Stepbrother Billionaire(3)

Oh, goody.

“Just take the damn flask,” I mutter, turning on my heel to go, “I’m out of here anyway. Enjoy yourself, Sawyer.”

But as I attempt to make my grand exit, Emerson steps directly into my path, his staggeringly built body blocking my way. I collide with his muscular form, my hands landing flush against his abdomen. I have to swallow a moan as I feel his insanely cut six pack rippling beneath my fingers. I step quickly away, catching Riley’s amused gaze. She knows all about my feelings for Emerson, being my best friend and all. Hopefully, the other dozen people here in this room can’t see right through me, too. Especially Emerson himself.

“Don’t be such a downer,” he laughs, handing me the flask and extinguishing his smoke in someone’s discarded red cup. “Stay and have fun for once in your life.”

“I’m not a downer. You’re just a pain in the ass,” I reply, snatching the flask out of his strong hands.

“Hey. I had a very troubled childhood,” he says over-dramatically, laying a hand over his heart and arranging his features into an anguished pout. “I can’t help myself.”

“Who am I, Officer Krupke?” I ask, laughing despite myself. “Give me a break.”

It’s no wonder Emerson is so popular, with his wicked sense of humor, his bad boy good looks, and his devil-may-care attitude. He could have his pick of any girl in our school, of that much I am absolutely certain. I’ve been keeping careful tabs on his romantic life for years now, and he definitely doesn’t seem to be the “relationship type”. He’s hanging out with a new girl every weekend, just about. And it seems that this weekend is no exception.

“Hey Emerson,” a breathy voice says from over his shoulder. Two thin, manicured hands slide around his torso from behind, and a beautiful, green-eyed face peeks around his built form.

My heart clenches painfully as I recognize Courtney Haines, a gorgeous redheaded girl in our senior class. She’s our resident thespian, the beautiful star of every single school play, talent show, and choir concert. She’ll probably head to New York after graduation and become some Broadway sensation. But right now, she seems pretty happy in the role of Girl Who Gets to Make Out With Emerson Sawyer Tonight.

I have to admit, I would be too.

Stop that, I chide myself, shaking off my discomfort. You’re not allowed to like him like that anymore. Your parents are dating. Plus, he thinks of you as an annoying little gnat...when he thinks of you at all. Get a grip, Abby.

“Hey Riley. Hey Abby,” Courtney Haines says, draping Emerson’s arm over her shoulder. “Glad you guys could make it to my little shindig!”

“This is your house?” I exclaim, looking around in wonder. My dad’s place is pretty stately, but her home is truly a den of luxury. It’s more of an estate than anything else. Our area of Connecticut is chock full of gigantic homes, but her family’s puts them all to shame.

“Yep. And would be my room,” she smiles smugly, letting her hand travel down into Emerson’s back pocket. “My parents were nice enough to give me the master suite and everything, their dear hearts.”

“How nice,” Riley says flatly, stepping up beside me. Riley’s family is distinctly working-class, and the trappings of wealth have never interested her much. She’s never held my family’s financial situation against me, of course. But that’s only because I’m aware of the privilege that comes along with having a family that’s “old money”. She has no patience for the rich kids in our school who seem oblivious to how good they have it. And Courtney is most certainly one of that number.

“Come on babe,” the redheaded girl says to Emerson, “We’re just about to play a little game. You girls should play too!”

“What sort of game are we talking about?” Riley asks, stealing a nip of my booze. “Darts? Poker?”

“Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Courtney squeals, bouncing up and down excitedly on the balls of her feet.

“Are you serious?” I blurt out.

“Sure,” Courtney replies, miffed by my less-than-enthusiastic response. “What’s the problem? We’re doing it ironically. You’re some kind of hipster, aren’t you? You should appreciate that.”

“I’m not a hipster,” I reply, “I just like to read, occasionally.”

Emerson tries to cover up a hearty chuckle with a cough. I glance over at him, amazed. Did I actually just make my Detractor-in-Residence laugh?

“Whatever,” Courtney chirps, towing Emerson back toward the group, “Join in or don’t.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I mutter to Riley, as Emerson strides away.

“And miss your chance to wind up in the closet with your OTL?” she grins back.

“My what?” I ask blankly.

“Your One True Love, obviously,” she says, looping an arm around my waist and dragging me toward the group.

“Oh please,” I whisper, “It was just a crush! And besides, it’s over now.”

“Right,” she says, rolling her eyes, “Because I didn’t just see you fawn over his six pack for a long, steamy moment back there.”

“I didn’t fawn over anything,” I hiss, “I just—”

“OK!” Courtney chirps, rubbing her hands together and looking around at her assembled guests. “Let’s do this. Everyone know the rules of Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Her eyes land on me. “Abby?”