She nodded and caught the keys. Without breaking stride, she ran right past us and around to the front of the house.

One of the guys frowned at her. “Wasn’t that the drummer from inside?”

A girl jogged around the side of the house, stopped, and pointed at us. She yelled to the crowd, “They’re over here!”

He added, “You guys are too big to be here.”

His buddy agreed. “No, shit. Let’s go.”

They led the way into a wooded area behind the house. As we got farther away from the house, we could see more and more headlights heading toward it. One of our guides commented, “Word’s out. I just got eight tweets that you’re at Fuller’s party.”

The first one cursed again, “The cops are going to get called. You better text the other guys so they scram. We can’t get in trouble with Coach.”

Braden’s phone buzzed, and he asked at the same time he glanced at his screen, “Coach? You guys on a team or something?”

Their leader nodded, grabbing a branch and moving it up so we could pass by. “Yeah, we’re on the football team for the university here.”

“Really?” Braden was impressed. His phone buzzed again, and he looked at me. “Bri said she’s on a road up ahead.”

The fourth member, who hadn’t said a word yet, asked now, “How do you guys know the drummer?”

Braden was texting her back as he muttered, “Uh, she’s my sister, why?”

“She single?”

The first two guys laughed at their buddy. The third was watching me, but I kept my mouth shut. I had no claim.

Braden glanced at me, but answered with caution, “Uh…I don’t know. She doesn’t talk to me about that stuff.”

“She’s hot.”

“Good rack,” the first one added, winking at his friend.

Gunn stepped onto a heavy stick and broke it in one snap. The power of his leg caught their attention, and they quieted for a moment. He said in that silence, “You’re not her type.”

“Are you her type?”

The fourth football player wasn’t as tall as Gunn or as solidly built, but he flexed his hands as if ready for battle. An amused glint appeared in Gunn’s gaze. He replied, “Like I said, you’re not her type.”

The third player spoke up now, “Carson didn’t mean anything by it. He’s a man-whore. We keep hoping he’ll get help, but nothing seems to fix stupid.”

“Hey.”

He threw back, “Chill out, man. These guys are Sustain. They can send one tweet out, and someone would vandalize your parents’ house. People are nuts.”

Braden laughed. “Not that we condone that behavior.”

I’d been tense from watching Bri on stage, and it hadn’t lessened as we ran through the woods. If there was another remark about her, I was ready to swing. I didn’t care how big they were.

Gunn had been watching me. He moved close and said under his breath, “If it happens, I’ll do it.”

“Why?”

“Because we need your pretty face for the fans.”

I looked up to see if he was serious. He was, but he relinquished, “Kidding. If you have a busted face, I think Priss would piss her pants from excitement.”

Braden had overheard him and laughed. “No, shit. That’d be leaked to the gossip shows in two seconds flat. I swear, she has all the numbers for the gossip channels on speed dial.”

The football players had gone ahead, but stopped and waited for us. The third one asked, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” I shoved past him. I spotted the road through the trees and saw the headlights for Braden’s car at the same time. When we cleared the trees and headed up the ditch, all of us spread out and walked in one line for the car.

When we got there, Bri opened her door and leaned against the car. Her hair was whipping behind her face and one hand was resting on her hip. She tugged her shirt and then adjusted it back, but it didn’t stick. It fell down, showing her black bra. Bri was clueless, scowling at us. She was the picture of fierce and alluring at the same time.

We were greeted with, “What were you guys doing there?”

She took in the whole line of guys before letting her eyes find mine, making me feel seared from the inside out. My insides felt yanked out, but I still wanted to touch her.

I looked away instead.

“We came to see you.” Braden motioned to the guys.

“Are you insane? How was tonight supposed to go down any other way? You guys are celebrities. You can’t be coming to house parties anymore.” There was a clipped bark to her voice, but it faded on the last word, and I glanced over at her. She sneaked a look at me.

“Yeah, we didn’t think ahead.” Braden threw a hand to the football guys. “Got some extra room?”

She shook her head. “There is no way this little car can fit all of you hulks.”

The guys laughed and one mentioned, “We can wait here. A bunch of our buddies are coming. They can pick us up.”

I should’ve thanked them for saving us from the chaos, and I heard Gunn and Braden doing exactly that, but I looked back at her. Her hand was still on her hip, but her shoulders were slumped forward. She was kicking at some gravel on the road.

The football guys headed farther down the road as Gunn and Braden got into the car. We were alone now, but we still had an audience.

She wouldn’t look at me anymore. I wanted to turn those dark eyes to me. I wanted to say something, but I had no idea what. I ended up with, “You’re still really good.”

Her head lifted, and I saw it. There was so much there. Fear, caution, excitement, warmth, and another expression I couldn’t place. No, I did. She was still haunted.

“Thanks.”

She was mine.

No. She wasn’t.

She had gone to him that night.

Ah, fucking hell.

“We should probably talk.”

Her eyes opened at my tone, which was rough, and panic flared across her face for a moment. “Oh. Okay.”

‘The Talk’ never happened.

Over the last week, my new place had become the hangout for everyone. Bri came a few times, but neither of us made the first move. Tonight was The Feast, and I figured it was time. There’d be a party afterward. Lots of booze. Lots of music. Lots of loose tongues going around. I had a feeling this conversation with Brielle was going to be like taking a shot of acid while doing acid.