Page 12

He strides in and stands next to me, wearing the same white outfit, and I part my dark hair the same as his and sweep it to the side. He looks good in white—we both do.

“You ready to fuck with people tonight, bro?” he asks, giving my ribs a jab. “Some of the younger girls in this town are looking damn good to me. I might need you to be my wingman, since you don’t seem like you are interested in any of them.”

I roll my eyes and he adjusts my hair so we match perfectly. I slap his hand away, and we stare at ourselves in the mirror for a few seconds before he says, “Fuck, you are one good-looking dude.”

I shake my head, and we both crack up. I swear Maison is the only person in the world who can get me to lighten up. It’s me and him against the world as it should be. I’d literally kill anyone who messes with him. I’m the worst person for not telling him what happened with Olivia the night they broke up. And worse, I don’t ever plan to.

Olivia hasn’t come around for a few days, and I haven’t seen her since the incident. Apparently, they really broke up, and Maison assured me he was never committed to her to begin with. He’s too immature to admit his mistake with Serena, so breaking up is easier for him. I swear Maison’s emotions, while at least he has them, are nothing more than a moth to a flame.

He said he needed to focus more on the upcoming season, which I’m not upset about. He’s getting sloppy and slow at training. All of them are—Ezra and the younger kids don’t know what’s at stake yet and have no idea what losing is like because of me. I doubt they will go to any state championships when I’m not around. The team would be utter shit.

I’m not upset Olivia is not coming around anymore and am relieved I don’t have to see her. This is the exact reason I don’t get emotionally attached. Girls are way too distracting. At least now she can go back to her ex-boyfriend Fitzgerald and ruin his life instead of fucking with ours.

I match his silly grin and head to the door. “Let’s do this, fucker.”

By the time we reach the backyard, half the town is already here. All eyes are on us as we enter through the patio doors. My mom has the backyard set up as she always does with her extravagant parties. Our perfectly manicured lawn sits on a high cliff above the ocean, our patio extends all the way to the pool, and my mom has seating areas all throughout, with little tealights that will pop on at dusk. We usually expect around three hundred people, and this year is no exception. It’s an event for displaying our wealth with style. This year our food theme is sushi—all white rolls and fresh fish, and the feature cocktails are white bellinis with little umbrellas sticking out of them. She only rambled on about it at every dinner for the past month.

I step on a white balloon, purposely popping it as floats through my feet. The loud bang causes my mom to sharpen her gaze toward me as she’s in deep conversation with the mayor’s wife.

She gave me a stern warning earlier about my behavior, especially about not fighting or getting into it with Ezra. She knows how much I hate him and how pissed off I was for him stealing my glory goal. She also had to field calls from his mom when I used to beat him up when we were kids. Everyone is still so fucking touchy about me pushing him around when we were younger, and how unhinged I am. The kid is all grown up now. He can take care of himself. Give him a year, he might even be as big as Maison and me.

Ezra and Thomas are talking to a few others on our hockey team, including Naomi and Serena, so Maison nudges me to come with him. I follow him over to the group and try to avoid Naomi’s leering stares. When Maison’s not with me, he mostly hangs out with Ezra. The two of them have always been close. Ezra keeps his arms locked around Naomi and barely spares me a glance. Naomi gives me a pleading look not to say anything about our make-out session the other night. Guess they are back together, after I never called her like she begged me to.

We are only chatting for a few minutes when I glance up as a tall blonde comes into my view. I flick my gaze toward her and there she is. All five-ten of pure fucking poison. The devil herself dressed like a fucking angel with a short skirt and white tank top that fills out her curves. Her hair waved to perfection.

Damn, she looks good.

I don’t recognize anyone she’s with—a nerd in a fucking bowtie whose family moved to New Ocean a couple years ago. But why the fuck is Olivia here and speaking to them? Something’s not adding up.

Maison pauses mid-sentence when he finally notices her. His body stiffens as she makes eye contact, and she struts over to us without a care in the world, her long legs on full display. He’s just as surprised to see her as I am, if his arched eyebrows are any indication. She darts her sexy eyes between the two of us, and it takes every ounce of me not to smirk at her.

Guess it’s not so obvious now, is it, sweetheart?

She looks directly at my twin, her eyes soften. “I have family in the area, Maison. Don’t be surprised to see me. I was invited.”

Shit. Apparently, this girl can see right through us.

“What family?” I chime in and she finally casts her gaze to me after an intense moment passes between the two of them. She’s never mentioned family to me, not that we’ve done much talking.

She blinks at me with zero fucking emotion, unlike whatever just went on between her and my brother. “You wouldn’t know him. He’s not an athlete, so you wouldn’t give him the time of day,” she says.

I don’t falter my hard exterior even though her iciness cuts deep.

Maison is tense and quiet beside me, and the group quits the conversation and stares at them. Maison finally grabs her hand. “Can we go somewhere and talk, baby?” he asks her.

Baby?

I thought they broke up. What happened to Mr. All The Chicks At This Party Are Looking Damn Hot? A flame ignites in her eyes, and she nods. “Yeah, is there somewhere quiet?”

The two of them wander off, leaving me alone with Ezra and Naomi and the others. I curse under my breath as I pretend not to watch them circle the lawn and disappear behind the house where my parents have a gazebo. Right before they disappear from view, his hand slides to the small of her back, finding the bit of skin above her skirt.

I silence my inner thoughts, and any emotion that seeps its way out of my heart and into my head, reminding myself I have no right to be jealous—

None.

Maison’s about to lay it on thick, and with his puppy dog eyes, she doesn’t stand a chance when he turns the charm on. I move toward the bar and grab one of my mom’s signature white drinks and crush the little umbrella in my fist while slurping it in one gulp. It doesn’t take long for my mom’s friends to zone in on me, and a tightness forms in my chest.

Fuck.