The sun had set, casting a perfect glow in my bedroom. It was like a fire in the sky, warm but soothing. I often looked out the window, watching the sun disappear and change. Something about it calmed me, like a song that, no matter how many times I listened to it, would put me at ease.
While everyone napped, I unpacked and added my touch to the room. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make me feel comfortable. I put my mom's picture on the nightstand and spun around before falling on the bed. I sunk into the mattress, kicking my feet into the air as I squealed.
The room alone was bigger than the top floor of my house back in Ohio. Times were rough because it had always been my mom and me, and she worked so hard to help put me through college. I owed her my life.
The soft knock on the door stopped me from kicking as I sat up. I hurried to the end of the bed, seeing my best friend popped her head through the door as she opened it.
"I'm happy to see you've settled in," she gushed, taking a complete look around before crawling on the bed beside me. I laid back, the top of our heads touching as we looked at the white ceiling. "I hope my brothers don't annoy you to death, and you end up leaving me here. I've been the only girl since I was little." Sure, that's the case.
Still breathing heavily, I said, "Are you kidding? You invited me to keep my mind off Kevin, and I'm so grateful for that and you. I wouldn't leave if you forced me to. Besides, I've dealt with you for how long?" I joked as she kicked me and laughed afterward.
"I guess you have a point there," she muttered. "How are you holding up?"
"Part of me goes through random spurts of sadness, and then the other half doesn't want to give him the time of day. He obviously didn't love me like he said he did. I'm just tired of people running from me. Do I stink?" I laughed, easing the mood. Besides my family, Sam was the only person who stayed by my side. We weren't perfect and had our fights, but she never left.
Sam sat up and looked down at me. Her hair was all over her head. "Those are the people who shouldn't be in your life. It's a sign, and although it sucks ass, they're not here for a reason. You should thank the guy upstairs," Sam expressed, sending me a friendly wink.
"You're right," I agreed. "Thanks, Sammy."
She gave me a devilishly blank look and clenched her jaw. "Call me that again, and I'll break your fingers."
"So, Coleman gets special privileges? I think it's cute," I pleaded.
"Because I'd feel wrong telling him I'd break his fingers. He's old and has worked for my family since I was born."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, Sam?"
"Yeah," she answered. "That's better. I love improvement. It's good for your skin and other things." What the hell is she talking about?
"I've been due for a drink since yesterday. Don't make me beg," I said, pouting my plump lips. What was a vacation without drinking on the first night?
My best friend pushed herself off the bed and did a little dance. "You don't have to tell me twice. Come on," she shouted, waving her hand for me to hurry.
It was like a damn maze following a running Sam to a creepy ass above-ground wine cellar. Wooden racks held well over two hundred wines. To the left was a shelf designed for alcohol and lots of it. And expensive brands that I've never seen before. They never had to make a liquor store run. Jealous.
"So, either your parents are alcoholics or really love to prepare for a shortage of alcohol," I blurted, not thinking before I spoke. I knew she wouldn't take offense to me calling her parents alcoholics because they aren't on the best terms.
She roamed her eyes around potential drink choices. "Probably both, if I'm being honest. But they collect wine, old wine, it's like a hobby for old, rich people. I think there's a few down here over one-hundred years old," she informed but didn't seem impressed. I sure was. I was adding that to my bucket list.
"That sounds cool, though. Some people like me collect stupid things. Like me and old concert tickets," I confessed with a shrug.
"They love this stupid wine more than me. And it probably tastes like ass," Sam tutted, passing me two bottles while she carried another two. We decided on rum and tequila, two of my personal favorites.
When we made it to the game room, I set the bottles on the glass table as Sam pulled out a stack of disposable shot glasses. She told me she sent a group text to the boys to come downstairs and join us. I was a little too excited and wanted to get drunk, even though I hate feeling hungover.
"We should have a girls' night soon. And I'm going to need a tour," I said, trying to help as she set up.
"Let me worry about that. I have so much to show you."
Within minutes, the boys had come downstairs, bringing life to the game room. They were loud, roused up from working out, and laughing. Dylan wasted no time turning music on in the background, hyping everyone up.
"It's about time. It's not an actual party until you party with the Collins," Dylan sang, reviewing the alcohol choices of the night. They had all changed and possibly showered, and I was still in the clothes I had on from the airport. My hair was frizzy, and I didn't have any makeup on. It looked like I had on my best pair of Daisy Dukes, but I was just tall, and it just appeared that way.
"You're not wrong," Cameron replied. "Samantha is always the life of the party. The party didn't start until she was there, and if It did, she would get it shut down." And she got plenty of them shut down, alright.
I remembered some of her best drunk moments. "Yeah, she gets wild," I agreed, shaking my head while pushing my hair to the right side.
"Me?" Sam gasped. "Please don't let me tell them what happened the last time you got hammered. That was wild."
"That's something I'd be interested in knowing," Joey said in passing behind me. Ignored.
I dropped my face into the palm of my head. "Let's not remind me or anyone of that awful story. Please?" I muttered under my breath, embarrassed by half of the things that happened to me while drunk.
"Oh, shit," Cameron emphasized, bringing his focus away from Sam. "When you went into the wrong dorm and threw up in someone's bed?" Fuck you, Cam.
Everyone laughed. My face flushed with slight embarrassment. All I could do at that moment was throw a balled-up napkin at Cameron's head.
"I hate you," I shouted. I wasn't a messy drunk, but sometimes shit happened. But I didn't want everyone knowing about that shit.
"Wait. What?" Dylan curiously asked.
"No, well," I prepared to correct him. "I was having a bad day, and Sam forced me to go to a frat party. So, I ended up getting drunk as hell and didn't want to go back to my dorm. I probably wouldn't have made it, and I couldn't find Sam. She lived closer to the frat house than I did. Well, anyway, I went into the room, changed into her clothes, and fell asleep. But I ended up throwing up, and when I went to clean myself off, I knew by the bathroom it wasn't Sam's dorm. So, yeah, I slept in a stranger's bed, threw up, and stole a stranger's clothes."
"That's something I would've done. Sam, I like this one," Dylan spoke, showing his incredible teeth. Joey agreed.
"Too bad she's off-limits," Sam announced, making sure we didn't forget that detail.
"I don't do good with following rules, beautiful," Joey mumbled loud enough for me to hear.
I was trying so hard to ignore his comments, but this was the third time he had called me beautiful. And it was a compliment I never got tired of hearing from anyone. And it was coming from a hot ass guy I knew I had to stay away from. Not just because of Sam, but he seemed like a guy you didn't want to get involved with, anyway. He probably never had a girl not feed into his shit.
With my eyes looking ahead, I muttered, "Too bad. I do."
"You sure, Riley?"
"Positive, Joey," I emphasized.
I never took my vision off Sam as she began pouring shots into each of the glasses. "Okay, we're playing—"
"Never have I ever," I answered, cutting her off.
My best friend looked at me with her mouth dropped wide open. "You just know me so well, Rys," she smirked. Well, we spent almost every second together in college.
When we sat around the table, my eyes landed right on the drink in front of me. I knew that was Sam's favorite game because it was her way of getting dirt on everyone. She found out things about me I said when I was drunk and would never tell anyone. But I hated this game when I wanted to get drunk because it was too slow.
"Okay! I'll start. Everyone ready?" Sam asked, taking a second to think. "Never have I ever . . . um, driven drunk?"
No one drank that round. Joey and Dylan admitted to driving buzzed but never drunk, to where they couldn't focus or think straight.
"Never have I ever had car sex," Dylan quickly asked, spicing the game up fast. Well, damn. Joey, Sam, and Cam answered that question, and I still didn't get to drink. What the hell was up with that?
"Sam, what the fuck? My little sister is here and admitted to . . . never mind," Joey gasped and made a surprised face at his sister. Yeah, it was a little weird that they were asking sexual questions and they're all related. But I picked up that they treated Sam like a baby. But I mean, she was the little sister.
I nervously looked down at the lonely liquid in my cup to avoid Mr. Sex on Legs while everyone laughed at his comment. I wasn't that vanilla. The only place I ever had sex was in the bedroom. I never felt the need to do it elsewhere, but I didn't mind the thought. I wished my sex life was better. Kevin was a minute man and expected so much sex, but it was never that enjoyable for me. It was at first, but it started feeling like a damn task with him. I ignored it—red flag.
"Babe, you go," Samantha said, leaning her head against her boyfriend's shoulder.
"Uh, never have I ever . . . sexted someone," Cam said. "I'm talking birthday suit." I should've known it was impossible to play a normal game with such hormonal men. It always turned dirty.
Everyone besides Cameron drank that round.
Joey dramatically rolled his neck back and laughed. "Nasty bastards."
"Take one to know one," I spat, shaking off the strong taste. It caught me off guard and burned my stomach as it went down. I probably should've eaten before I started drinking, but I had no appetite. That was why I always got so drunk.
"Maybe," he replied, raking his hands through his facial hair. "Never have I ever had a foursome? And Sam don't fucking answer that." What the hell did he do? Skip three?
She eased his mind when she told him she had never had one, anyway.
Dylan punched his fist into his hand. "Now, if you said three, I'd be all over that one," he said, and Cameron agreed.
"Cameron? A threesome? No way," Sam shockingly said, looking up at him from her sitting position.
"It was before I started dating you, and we were all drunk as hell," Cam answered, and I honestly didn't think he had it in him. I knew Sam would get on him about it later, pushing him to see if she was the best he ever had. I knew her too well. It scared me sometimes.
Samantha rolled her eyes and then smiled. "It better have been," she said. Both of her brothers agreed.
"I'd never do anything to jeopardize anything with my beautiful girlfriend," Cameron sweet-talked to his girlfriend. I wanted to stab myself at how cute they were together. I somewhat had gotten used to it because I was always the third wheel when Kevin wasn't available.
Shit. It was my turn. "Um, never have I ever gone skinny-dipping?" I asked. Joey and Dylan drank.
By the time we finished the game, I had learned some interesting things about everyone. Joey and Dylan were not shy and highly experienced. I was the lame one of the bunch. And I didn't drink nearly as much as I planned to. But it wasn't the end of the night.
Outside of the freaky questionnaire, the night was all laughs and good vibes.
"Who the hell did you fuck twenty years older than you?" Joey shouted over the table to his brother. That seemed to surprise him, so I guessed he never slept with someone older than him.
He flashed a silly grin and shrugged his shoulders to his ears. "Remember Amanda? Blair Lane, Amanda."
"Blair lane? As in our old house?" Sam asked with angled eyebrows. "You fucked our old housekeeper?"
Dylan nodded. "How?" Joey asked like he wanted to take notes. Does it matter?
"It's the hair, bro. Ladies, love this shit," Dylan confessed, running his hands through his locks. I could tell he took good care of his hair. It was healthy, hanging past his neck.
Sam didn't like that. "That's gross," she retched, picking up her cup to take a drink. Her face curled, trying to get used to the taste of tequila, from switching to rum.
♡
It was a little after one in the morning when all the shots had crept up on me. The bass from the loud music thumped through the floor, rattling the pictures hanging on the wall. Sweat beads formed around my hairline, and my long hair dangling down my back warmed me up even more. I was hot, filled with energy and a rapid heartbeat.
Song after song, Sam and I danced in the middle of the room as if no one were watching. I spun around while maintaining the solo cup in my hands—a college technique I mastered. As I fell into Sam from behind, I caught Joey looking at me through his thick eyelashes that ignited a fire inside of my body. The alcohol and his selfishly good looks supported the insane thoughts running through my head. It had been an innocent stare, but I knew what that look meant to guys like him.
"I love you so much, Riley," my best friend said, spinning me around toward her. I had almost lost my balance and fell into her, but caught myself. I knew when we were drunk when we started expressing our love and complimenting each other.
I shook my head and shook my finger back and forth. "No. I love you more, and I'm so happy to have a friend like you. We got through college together and have so much more to accomplish," I whined, still trying to keep moving, or else the alcohol would rush straight to my head.
"This is literally the longest friendship I've ever had," she confessed, pulling me into a hug.
I shook her to the side and said, "And it will continue. Forever," I whispered to her while finishing the rest of my drink. That wasn't the best idea.
I pulled away to get myself together. "What the fuck is happening? Cam, you sure your girl isn't thinking about leaving you for her best friend?" Dylan asked, but I didn't pay him no mind. I needed water.
"They do this every time they drink. You get used to it," Cameron interjected, making the boys laugh.
Feeling the buzz stronger, I excused myself from our moment and found my way to the kitchen. I leaned against the island and laid my hand against my forehead to catch my breath. When I got a small second wind, I wobbled to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water. I drank the whole thing in seconds, feeling the icy breeze against my skin. I thought about how I could make my escape and if anyone would notice.
Once I closed the doors, Joey was on the other side, casually sipping the beer in his hands with a smirk on his face. I remained still, watching him roam his bright eyes over my body. He had on a white shirt with printed shorts, and his hair in a curly mess but looked perfect. I should've looked away, and I wanted to, but my eyes had a mind of their own. But I had to fight the urges. Damn you, rum.
I awkwardly cleared my throat and blinked away from our stare-down. The look he gave me was tempting and made me go over every consequence in my head.
Then he walked away with a smile. "Hopefully, tonight you'll mistake my room for your own. Minus the throwing up part," Joey said, looking over his shoulder.