Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(99)
“If you say you’re wearing couple costumes, I will not be held accountable for making fun of you all night,” Colt says, entering the living room.
“Magic eight-ball?” Mia chuckles, looking at his t-shirt. He’s all in black, an eight-ball print on his chest. “Let’s see...” she taps her lips. “Oh, I know! Will you fall in love this year?”
Colt huffs an amused puff of air down his nose, turning around to show us a blue triangle on his back with Google it written inside.
“This is no fun. You were supposed to take this seriously!”
“Other than you, and maybe Theo, no one will dress up properly,” Cody says, propping his hip against the back of the couch. “Girls will come as Harley Quinn, sexy cops, sexy nurses, or sexy... something, and guys will either low-effort this like us or go full Joker or Rooster.”
“Rooster?” Mia chuckles.
“Yeah, from the new Top Gun. I bet we’ll see at least a few guys in pilot uniforms and fake mustaches.”
“And those will be the guys getting laid tonight,” Colt adds.
“Missed opportunity,” Nico muses, taking Mia with him as he gets up. “We should get ready.”
They disappear upstairs, and Colt grabs us all a beer while we get out to the back garden, checking everything’s ready. Six arrives ten minutes later to set up his console, dressed in a glow-in-the-dark skeleton costume. Pretty cool for a DJ.
Bang on seven o’clock, the doorbell rings so I head back inside to let in whichever one of my brothers arrived on time, not expecting Nico and Mia to be ready yet. Whenever they go upstairs together, they’re gone for at least an hour and a half.
It’s a miracle neither I nor Cody nor Colt walked in on them yet. Mia’s been living here since June, so I expected to have a memory bank of unwanted visuals by now, but nope. Nico’s uncharacteristically careful about where and when they fuck.
Since we moved here, we’ve caught him with countless random women. He never took them upstairs into his bedroom though, always got his dick wet in the living room, the kitchen, the garage, even the stairs.
Colt, Cody, and I made it a rule to be extra loud when we come home since he got together with Mia, and take our sweet time in case they need to get dressed, but so far, no life-changing, psyche-scarring encounters.
I saw all my brothers in action at some point in my life, but I never want to see Mia. She’s like my little sister, and it’s just fucking wrong to even think she’s having sex.
“Oh, hey,” the girl outside says when I fling the door open. “You must be one of the triplets. Conor, right?”
“Yeah, and you are...?” Too young to be here.
We didn’t invite the freshmen this time. They’re too wild, having just finished high school and getting their first taste of college parties. And this girl is a freshman, for sure.
If that. Maybe she’s still in high school. She’s dressed for a party, though, so someone invited her. What’s more, she’s dressed as Wednesday Addams, which is bold, considering it’s not a sexy version.
It suits her. Her hair’s jet-black, and her eyes almost match. She’s not as pale as Wednesday, but the dress, two braids, and a fringe complete the look.
“I’m Rose,” she says, rocking on the balls of her feet.
Okay, this doesn’t fucking help me whatsoever. I rake my hand through my hair, growing uncomfortable. “I’m not trying to be rude, but I have no idea who you are or what—”
“Mia invited me,” she explains quickly. “I guess you’d call me her student. She gives me piano lessons three times a week.”
Ah, right. She told us about this girl, but we’re never here when she comes over. I step from one foot to the other and open the door further, gesturing for her to come in.
She turns on her boot, waving at the driveway, and I follow her line of sight to find a death trap parked at the bottom of the concrete steps. A battered Mercury Cougar, a relic from another era with at least thirty years under its belt, if not more.
The car’s battered and beaten as if it’s been rallying through rough terrain, and no one’s even tried to fix the dents. The front bumper’s only just clinging on by untrimmed zip ties, the side mirror is taped with packing tape, and I have no clue what color is under all that rust. Plus, it’s belching out this huge black smoke cloud that could probably kill on the spot.
“I’ll pick you up after eleven,” a girl in a stripy black and yellow top shouts from the driver’s seat. “Don’t drink!” The bee antennae on her headband jiggle about.
Rose gives her a thumbs up, and before I have a chance to take a better look at the girl, she puts the car in motion, rolling down the driveway in a toxic cloud.
“Eleven? The party will only just start getting good then,” I say when Rose finally steps over the threshold.
“I bet, but I have little choice. She’ll pick me up on her way from work.”
“Hey, you’re here!” Mia cheers, click-clacking down the stairs with Nico trailing behind her.
“No. Fucking. Way,” I boom, looking them over.
She’s cute as always, wearing a sparkling crown and a black, red, and white tutu dress with a big Q and heart printed on her chest. The soft fabric swishes around her legs as she moves, but it’s not her who has my jaw hanging open.