The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football, #1)(32)

I shove them away, burying them deep down.

Then I think about Donovan, wondering where he is right now…

“Not here!” I say aloud to no one in particular.

River watches me, that eyebrow raised.

“Dance with me! It’s my birthday!” I tell him over the music.

He blows out a breath, makes a move toward me, then stops and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You can’t dance? I’ve seen you!”

“Rainbow, I can fucking dance, just not with you.”

I sway my hips toward him and shove him down on the couch. “Then sit and stop hovering.”

I’ll recall ‘Rainbow’ much later.

The music booms, and I let it out: the hurt of today, the worry about law school, my parents, June. I dance like a madwoman, smiling as I bend and go low, low, low with the lyrics. River sits back and laughs, wiping his eyes as I give my ‘big booty a smack’— “What the hell is going on?” comes a man’s voice.

I stop and flip around.

Oh shit.





9





Lila turns the music down as Donovan marches into the den. His hair is disheveled, and he rakes a hand through it, his brow furrowing as he lands on River. “River? What are you doing here?”

River stands, his face blank. “I dropped off her book and pan.”

“You’ve been here before?” Donovan’s eyes narrow.

“No.”

The five of us stare at each other, only I can’t look at River. I feel guilty for shaking my ass in front of him, and we can’t forget me running my hands over him in the kitchen. My stomach drops.

I blame it on the pot. Never again!

My body tenses as Donovan’s eyes flit to Lila holding her joint. He opens his mouth, then shuts it, an incredulous look on his face as he shifts his focus from River to me. “You’re high?” Disappointment settles on his face. “You aren’t a stoner, Ana.”

Right now, my high has plummeted.

His lips compress. “Pot impairs your judgment and kills brain cells.”

Actually, it doesn’t kill brain cells. Those studies have been debunked.

“Don’t patronize me,” I mutter. “This makes twice in my life.”

“You’re killing my buzz, Donny,” Lila grouses as she splays out on the floor.

My jaw tightens. “It’s a birthday party. You’d think my boyfriend would have taken me to dinner. Or somewhere. Oh, wait—you forgot I turned twenty-one today! All I got were texts about Harvard and apartments and how happy you are!”

Panic flashes on his face. “Ana! Calm down! That’s why I’m here! I just remembered at the library! And you’re getting high to get back at me.” His face scrunches.

“Wanna play Fortnite, Donny?” Lila asks. “Oh, and you don’t really know her. Girl is lit. She is fire.”

“Lila, don’t…” I say. We’ve had plenty of conversations about how different Donovan and I are, but it works.

Or it did.

Donovan stiffens. “This is…” He looks at Lila, then me. “…not what I want for you.”

“This isn’t about you, Donovan,” I say, my eyes narrowing, anger rising higher at his holier-than-thou attitude. “My friends remembered.”

“Burn,” Lilah says smugly.

Several moments tick by, maybe not that many, but time feels stretched.

“You forgot,” I say softly. At least my parents called me earlier. They didn’t forget.

Donovan shuts his eyes, his face sliding into remorse. “Jesus. I’m sorry. You’re right. Totally. I should have said something this weekend or today…” He lets out a long sigh. “Life is crazy right now. That isn’t an excuse, okay, it’s just the truth. Things are happening with my parents…” He stops and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Nervous and antsy, my hands twist my long hair up in a messy topknot. I go through the checklist in my head. He’s distant, walls up, is always busy or on edge, and he hasn’t even confirmed our holiday plans. My parents won’t be around, and I need to know what I’m doing, only every time I bring it up, he changes the topic. I don’t want to spend the holidays alone.

Lila and Colette are doing the ski trip, and while the deadline has passed for me to sign up, they assured me I can still tag along, just not on Braxton’s reservation.

My resolve builds. “Lila and Colette, give us a moment, please. River, thank you for dropping off my book.”

“You sure?” Lila pinches off the joint she has in her hands and tucks it inside her little box. “This party was just getting good. I hadn’t even brought out Jenga yet. That’s always fun when I’m high.”

“Yes,” I say.

Colette takes her arm. “Come on. Let’s go drink some of the coffee Fake River made.”

“Is it real coffee?” Lila asks seriously.

“I don’t know,” is her reply. “I bought some shrimp cocktail today. Want some?”

“Question: is that black stuff on the shrimp poop?” Lila asks.

Colette frowns. “Let’s say no.”

“Hell yeah, then. Let’s eat ’em,” Lila shouts as they disappear into the kitchen.