The other boys are waiting at the bottom of the staircase, fanned out in various states of dress: a blazer, t-shirt, and slacks for Tristan; tight shirt and jean shorts for Zack; what I swear to God is a polo uniform for Windsor; and a loose white button-up that’s most definitely not buttoned up for Creed.

“Boys,” I greet, and I get the laziest, sexiest little smile from Miranda’s twin.

“Your Majesty,” he says, and Windsor grins.

“Your Majesty, indeed. Marry me and make it official. No pre-nup. You can have half my fortune if we ever get divorced.”

“You’re seriously freaking weird, and I love you for it,” I say, and then my cheeks flame as Windsor’s brows go up. “I mean, like … not love-love, but … just …” I groan and put my hand up to cover my face. I’m not ready for I love you’s just yet.

Zayd just laughs at me and pulls me through the crowd, not caring either way if the others follow along behind us. The partygoers part for us, and I swear, I don’t get jostled by even one elbow. There are faces everywhere that I recognize, some in uniform, some not. There are Coventry Prep kids here, as well as Beverly Hills Prep students. There’s even a group wearing blue blazers that say Adamson Academy on the breast pocket.

“Alright, babe,” Zayd says, turning and throwing his arms wide to indicate the massive living room with the floor to ceiling windows, the huge taxidermic elk head over the stone fireplace, and the modern furniture with just a hint of cowboy to it. Yeah, Billy Kaiser’s style is definitely not my style, but I can appreciate it. Well, okay, I can appreciate everything but the decapitated animal head. Just not my thing. “We have our own canna-bar aka cannabis bar for those who just don’t do alcohol. If I may make a recommendation …” Zayd scans across the impressive array of marijuana products. There are edibles, joints, tinctures, vape pens, all sorts of stuff.

Legal age for both booze and marijuana is twenty-one in California. I’d be worried about the cops raiding this place if I didn’t think they’d probably already been paid off.

“A recommendation, huh?” I ask, because I’ve actually never tried pot before. Like, ever. Yes, I know, I’m the epitome of the quiet study hound, but that’s okay. I’ve always embraced that part of myself. Still, while alcohol is not something I’m ready to try yet, because of my dad’s past issues and all, maybe I’d try weed?

Zayd picks up a very small piece of chocolate between his fingers and turns to me, giving me that sexy, cocksure smirk of his. There are literally dozens of girls looking our way and checking him out, a few guys, too. My possessive nature rears its ugly head, and I glance back to find similar situations with the other boys.

Trust, Mayne, trust, I think as I meet Zack’s eyes and he smiles, lifting up a beer in solidarity. He’s got his letterman jacket on again which, of course, just does all the right things for me. He’s got a girl seated on either side of him, and a couple more gathered in front of him.

“Sativa?” Creed asks, snatching the chocolate from Zayd’s fingers and giving him a look. Zayd narrows his eyes slightly, and then shrugs.

“Hybrid, but sativa dominant. Reviews on Leafly say it’s got an energetic and creative edge.”

“Energetic, huh? I could use a boost right now.” Creed pops the chocolate in his mouth, and smirks at me as he swallows. “Have you ever seen Pineapple Express, Marnye?”

“Not exactly,” I say, but I smirk right back because I’m not as ignorant as these boys might think. “But I know Leafly is an app where people can rate how much they like certain strains of marijuana, that is certain breeds, like the difference between chardonnay and cabernet. I also know that there are two types of marijuana: indica and sativa. In general, indica makes you feel more sleepy and relaxed while sativa is more likely to offer an upbeat feeling.” I exhale as both Creed and Zayd raise their brows and exchange a look. “What? I had to research this stuff for Charlie.”

“It’s not that,” Creed says, picking up another piece of chocolate. “Just … you sound so clinical. Loosen up, Marnye-bear.” He puts the piece of candy between his lips and leans in, kissing me with it. His tongue pushes the chocolate into my mouth, and I have half a second to decide if I want to spit or swallow it.

Whoa.

That sounded much dirtier than I intended it to …

But also … good question. I’ve never actually, um, had to consider whether I’d spit or swallow.

I swallow the chocolate, and exhale. Based on Dad’s experiences with Mrs. Fleming’s edibles, I know it can take up to two hours for the effects to set in. Please don’t let me regret this.

“Whoa there,” Zayd says, lifting up his palms as Creed leans back, smirking and sliding the fingers of one hand into the pockets of his tight black jeans. “I thought we were dating the good girl, Creed. Guess our new Idol Queen is a little naughty, huh?”

“Oh so naughty,” Creed drawls, making a show of licking the chocolate from his fingertips, swirling his tongue enticingly around each one. “Now, do you want to know why I brought up Pineapple Express?”

“Because … you like the movie?” I ask as Creed gives Zayd another look.

“Maybe not so naughty after all? She’s so damn sweet. Let’s poison her, Zayd.” Creed steps forward as Zayd grins and grabs me around the waist. Creed leans in so close that I can smell his cologne, even amongst all the other sweating students, and the acrid burn of alcohol that seems to permeate the air. He’s got that clean linen and sunshine smell, like sheets left to dry in the summer heat. “I mentioned it because at one point, Seth Rogen launches into a rant about how weed makes food taste better, music sound better, crappy TV shows seem better … It makes sex exquisite.”

“Seth Rogen uses the word exquisite?” I whisper, and Creed gives me this naughty kitty smile, like a very bad housecat. A very, very bad housecat with claws. Is it wrong that I want to get scratched? That maybe I even want to get bitten? “Because I have a hard time believing that.” Creed chuckles softly, just enough that his shoulders quiver, and then he shakes his head like he can’t wait to see how this affects me.

“Just wait until that edible hits you then come find me.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” Zayd whispers, nibbling on my ear and making me shiver. “Fuck off, Cabot. I’m taking Charity here swimming.” He grabs me by the arm and pulls me toward the pool. Miranda’s already out there, dancing on a table with a bottle of champagne in one hand. Creed follows along and then pauses with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he stops to guard his twin from unruly guys. Jesus, it’s like a rap video in here or something. Or should I say rock video?

Tristan’s already in the hot tub, his head thrown back on the pavement behind him, his arms stretched out on either side of his body. He must’ve wandered off during the edible conversation because I swear, he was right behind us.

Windsor and Zack are still close by which is a good thing, too, because I almost lose my shit when I see Lizzie climbing into the hot tub in a tiny bikini and scooting up close to Tristan.

“What is she doing?” I whisper as Windsor comes up to stand on my right side.

“She’s fighting, love,” he tells me, giving me a look. “She wants him—almost desperately so.”

I purse my lips and reach down to tear my dress over my head. Zayd and Zack both make shocked noises under their breath, but Windsor doesn’t seem surprised. This is ridiculous; I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not even wearing a bathing suit under my dress, just sexy black panties and a push-up bra that I don’t even really need. Miranda insisted I wear it though.

“Come on,” I tell the other boys, moving around to climb into the hot tub on Tristan’s other side. He cracks a single gray eye to look at me and then lifts his head up.

“Is that a bathing suit?” The sharp tone of his voice says he doesn’t think it is one.

“No.” That’s all I say, sitting there in the hot, hot water as my body starts to tingle and I realize that this particular edible does not have a two hour activation time. Oh no, it’s much, much faster. Uh-oh. “Also, I just ate my first edible.”

One of Tristan’s perfectly curved dark brows lifts up in surprise. Zayd tosses his shirt aside, peels off his jeans, and … I glance over and see his dick, right there in my face. Like, literally, he’s just gotten naked and is climbing in the hot tub. I see parts of him I’ve only dreamed of.

I mean … did I say dreamed of? Haha, no. Err, well, in the interest of being truthful, I might have.

Fine, okay, I definitely have dreamed about a naked Zayd Kaiser.

He’s got a really nice dick, my mind supplies as I catch sight of a small piercing on the tip. My cheeks flame as he slides in beside me. This is really looking like déjà vu here, I think as I remember sitting naked on Creed’s lap in a hot tub very similar to this one.