Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(62)

I need more booze if I’m going to survive tonight.

“I’m going to get another drink,” I tell Cooper. He’d been chatting with a tattooed guy named Wyatt, who’s complaining about how his girlfriend won’t take him back. Nearby, a small crowd is watching a game of bikini-and-briefs Twister in the backyard.

“I’ll get it for you,” he offers. “What do you want?”

“No, it’s okay. Stay and chat. I’ll be right back.”

With that, I slip away before he can argue with me. I wind my way through the house and end up in the kitchen, where I find a lone, unopened bottle of red wine and decide it’s the least likely to give me a raging hangover in the morning.

“You’re Mackenzie, right?” asks a gorgeous girl with long hair and a dark complexion. She’s in a bikini halter top and high-waisted shorts, mixing a drink at the counter. “Cooper’s Mackenzie.”

“Yep, that’s me. Cooper’s Mackenzie.” It sounds like a ’70s cop drama or something.

“Sorry,” she says with a friendly smile. She puts a lid on the cocktail shaker and vigorously shakes it over her shoulder. “I just meant I’ve heard a lot about you from Coop. I’m Steph.”

“Oh! The goat girl?”

Her lips twitch. “I’m sorry—what?”

I laugh awkwardly. “Sorry, that was random. Cooper and Evan told me this story about rescuing a goat when they were preteens at the behest of their friend Steph. That was you?”

She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. Yes. The Great Goat Robbery. Totally my idea.” She suddenly shakes her head. “Except did they tell you the part about abandoning the goat in the woods? Like, what the hell!”

“Right?” I exclaim. “That’s what I said! That poor thing totally got eaten by mountain lions or something.”

She snickers. “Well, we live in a seaside town, so maybe not mountain lions. Definitely got mauled by some predator, though.”

I set the wine bottle on the counter and open a drawer in search of a corkscrew.

Steph pours her concoction into two red cups then offers me one. “Leave the wine. That stuff’s terrible. Try this.” She pushes the drink at me. “Trust me. It’s good. Not too strong.”

No sense in offending the only person to speak to me all night. I take a sip and am pleasantly surprised by the slightly sweet taste of orange and botanicals.

“This is good. Really good. Thanks.”

“No problem. Don’t tell anyone where you got it,” she says, tapping the side of her nose. As if to say, if the cops raid the party and catch you underage drinking, don’t snitch on me. “I was hoping Cooper would decide to share you soon. We’ve all been anxious to meet you.”

“We?”

“Just, you know, the gang.”

“Right.”

Evan had also used that phrase. I wonder who else comprises this “gang.” Cooper and I haven’t done much in the getting-to-know-you realm this week. I mean, beyond anatomy.

Speaking of anatomy, an insanely attractive, anatomically perfect guy strides into the kitchen. Tall, fair, and armed with a pair of dimples, he flashes a smile at Steph. “Who’s your friend?” he asks, curious blue eyes landing on me.

“Mackenzie,” I say, holding out my hand.

“Tate.” He shakes my outstretched hand, his fingers lingering.

Steph snorts. “Keep it in your pants, babe. She’s with Coop.”

“Yeah?” Tate sounds impressed. His gaze rakes over me in slow, deliberate perusal. “Lucky Coop.” He grabs a few longnecks from the fridge. “You girls coming outside to the fire?”

“In a bit,” Steph answers.

“Cool.” He nods and leaves the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, Steph is quick to give me the skinny on Tate. Apparently he sleeps around, but his dimples and easygoing charm make it hard to view him as a douchebag. “He’s just so darn likeable, you know?” She sighs. “I hate people like that.”

“Those likeable pricks,” I agree, solemn.

We continue chatting as we drink our cocktails. The more we talk, the more I like her. Turns out we both have a thing for amusement parks and the one-hit wonders of early 2000s pop music.

“I saw them last year in Myrtle Beach. They were opening for …” Steph thinks about it then laughs to herself. “Yeah, I can’t remember. They’re in their fifties now.”

“Oh God, I can’t believe they’re still together.”

“It was weird,” she says, pouring us another couple of mixed cocktails.

“What was weird?” A girl with platinum hair and dressed in a black cropped T-shirt with the sleeves cut off slides in next to Steph.

“Nothing,” Steph says. She’s smiling until she clocks the hard glare on the blonde’s face. Then all the humor falls. “Heidi, this is Mackenzie.”

There’s too much emphasis on my name. I can’t help wondering what Cooper’s told them. It leaves me at a significant disadvantage.

“Nice to meet you,” I offer to cut the tension. I’m assuming Heidi is yet another member of this “gang.”

“Great,” she says, bored the minute she looked at me. “Can we talk, Steph?”