The Risk (Briar U)
: Chapter 28

“Where have you been?”

I jump like a spooked horse when Dad suddenly appears behind me. I was at the kitchen counter waiting for my coffee to brew, and I hadn’t even heard him come in.

I turn to replace him frowning at me. I frown back. “I texted you last night that I was staying with a friend in Boston.”

“And when I asked what friend, you didn’t text back.”

“Because you didn’t need to know more. You knew I was safe.”

“Is that a joke? Just because you stayed with a friend doesn’t mean you were safe. Who was this friend? Was it the boy who was here last week?”

I sigh. “You promised you weren’t going to do this anymore.”

“And you promised you weren’t going to be reckless.”

“How am I being reckless? Yes, sometimes I drink with my friends or go dancing. Sometimes I party—with your players, by the way.”

“As if that makes it better?” Anger flashes in his eyes. “The last time you went out with a hockey player, you almost destroyed your life.”

I experience a jolt of guilt. Dad would go apocalyptic if he knew I was helping Eric last night. Turning my back to him, I open the cupboard and grab a mug. “That was a long time ago, Dad. Five years, to be exact.”

“And yet you’re still sneaking around and staying out all night.”

“Dad.” I spin around. “Look at me.” I wave my hands up and down my body. “I’m in one piece. I’m alive. I’m not even hungover, because I didn’t drink last night. I stayed in Boston because of the storm and the power outages. I didn’t feel comfortable being out on the roads.” I slam the mug down in the middle of the counter. “I did the responsible thing and I’m getting shit for it. Do you to realize how ridiculous that is?”

“Really? So you were acting responsibly when you drove to Westlynn in the aforementioned storm and power outages to rescue Eric Royce from a crackhouse?”

I freeze. How the hell does he know about that?

As guilt climbs up my throat, I inhale slowly and remind myself that I have nothing to feel guilty about. I’m not obligated to tell my father every detail of my life.

He waits for me to say something. When I don’t, he spits out an expletive. “Louisa Royce called me last night. She didn’t have your cell phone number, and she wanted to thank you again for getting her son home safe. And here you are telling me you’re not doing anything reckless. Why are you seeing him again, Brenna? He’s trouble.”

“I’m not seeing him. He was in trouble and I went to help him.”

“Why? He doesn’t deserve your help. He doesn’t deserve shit.” The raw hatred in his voice is terrifying. Dad isn’t a Care Bear. He’s never going to shower you with kisses and compassion. But he’s also not coldhearted.

“Dad. Come on. Eric’s not an evil person. He’s just in a bad place.”

“And it’s not your duty to rescue him from that place.” He drags both hands over his scalp. His gaze is a little wild. “Do you know how worried I was after I got off the phone with his mother? Not knowing if you were all right?”

“You knew I was all right. I told you I was staying with a friend.”

“What friend?” he demands again.

“It doesn’t matter. But you know it wasn’t Eric, because Louisa wouldn’t have called to speak to me if I’d spent the night there. So please, just relax.”

“You want me to relax,” he mutters. “We have a crucial matchup this weekend, and instead of preparing for it, I’m worrying about whether or not my daughter is placing herself in danger.”

“I’m not placing myself in danger.” My throat tightens in frustration. I want to stomp my foot like a little kid, because I don’t understand him. Dad has two modes: he’s either ignoring me and completely disinterested in my life, or he’s screaming at me for shit that didn’t even happen.

I’m trembling as I pour my coffee. “I’m only going to tell you this once,” I say, and my voice is as shaky as my hands. “I am not involved with Eric again, and I never will be. He still calls me sometimes, usually to hit me up for money.”

I turn to face my father. His expression is harder than stone.

“I gave him money, one time,” I admit. “And then I realized it would become a habit, so I never did it again. He doesn’t phone that much anymore, maybe a couple times a year. Last night when he called me up, crying and scared because he didn’t know where he was…forgive me if it makes me a reckless fool that I didn’t want somebody I used to love to die in the fucking street.”

“Brenna,” Dad starts gruffly.

“What?”

“Just…” He blows out a ragged breath. “Tell me who you’re staying with next time you’re out all night. Don’t make me worry like that again.”

Then he leaves the kitchen.

JAKE: You ok?

ME: Yes and no. Dad’s gone back to ignoring me, so I assume he’s gotten over it. Heading to Summer’s now for girls night.

JAKE: Fuck ya. Film it for me.

ME: What do you think happens at girls night?

JAKE: Naked stuff, obviously. Pillow fights. Kissing practice. Actually, wait, forget that. We’re in college. You’re teaching each other how to eat pussy.

ME: Yes that’s exactly what we do. You’re such a pervert.

JAKE: Yup. Anyway, I’ll call you later.

ME: You don’t have to do that.

JAKE: I know I don’t have to. I want to.

I bite my lip to stop from smiling at my phone. But I can’t stop the warm, fuzzy sensation in my belly. Last night started out so awful, and ended up so…not awful.

I still can’t believe I slept with Jake. Figuratively and literally. I had sex with him and then I fell asleep wrapped up in his strong arms. I’m in trouble. I think I really like this guy, and I don’t know who I can talk to about it. Summer would tell Fitz in a heartbeat, and Audrey and Elisa suck at keeping secrets.

As I’m approaching Summer’s house, my landlord Wendy sends an update about the basement.

WENDY: Basement’s still not ready. Maybe another week, possibly less. We found mold growth in the utility room, and we’re working to contain it. For now, I need you to send me a complete inventory of what you lost in the flood. We’re filing the insurance claim this week.

ME: I’ll send it later. And please tell the mold guys to hurry up! I can’t live with my dad anymore.

WENDY: LOL the idea of living with my parents again makes me want to die.

ME: Exactly. Hurry!

WENDY: We’ll do our best 🙂

I put my phone away and enter the house without knocking. The high-pitched giggles in the living room tell me that the girls are already here. I replace Summer on the couch with Audrey. Summer’s friend Daphne is curled up in the armchair, and rounding out the group is a face I haven’t seen since the morning at the diner. Rupi Miller. AKA, Hollis’s stalker-slash-girlfriend.

“Brenna!” Rupi says happily. She’s on the floor lounging on an oversized pillow and wearing a similar outfit to what she had on at the diner. A light-blue, A-line dress with a lacy collar, black tights, and two sparkly barrettes in her raven hair. She looks cute and prim, and the blue shade of her dress goes amazing with her skin tone.

“Come sit with me,” she urges. “Also, you look gorgeous! Guys, how gorgeous does she look? I can’t believe your skin—it’s so luminous. What do you use for it? On mine I use a homemade mask that my mom told me about. That’s how I get my pinkish hue. It’s—”

“I’m going to grab a drink,” I interrupt.

Rupi is still chattering as I leave the room. I don’t even know who she’s talking to anymore. Maybe herself?

Summer trails after me into the kitchen. “Holy moly, Bee, that girl can talk. And I thought I was a blabbermouth.”

“You are and so is she. Two blabbermouths can exist in the same realm, babes. It’s not like Highlander.”

“What’s Highlander? I haven’t seen it. Is that the one where the woman travels back in time?”

“No, that’s Outlander. Which, by the way, we absolutely need to watch because the leading man is smoking hot.”

“Oooh! All right. Let’s do it after the semester ends.”

“Done.”

As I pour myself a glass of water, Summer raises her eyebrows. “It’s girls’ night,” she reminds me. “We’re drinking margaritas.”

“I’m hydrating first. I’ve barely had anything to drink today. I was holed up in my room working on my final paper for Comm Theory.”

When we wander back into the living room, Rupi is still gushing about her homemade face mask. “It’s just chickpea flour and yogurt, and I swear it is the best exfoliant ever. You’ll be glowing after.”

Audrey and Daphne are hanging on her every word. “I’m officially intrigued,” Daphne says. “I’m always on the hunt for a good exfoliator. My skin is garbage lately.”

“We should do it now,” Audrey suggests. “Do you have chickpea flour and yogurt?”

Summer dons a blank look. “I have no idea.”

“Let’s go check.” Rupi races toward the kitchen with Audrey and Daphne hot on her heels.

I watch them go. “Did they just become best friends?”

“I think they did.”

“Are she and Hollis actually a thing?” I ask as I steal Daphne’s spot. I settle in the armchair and curl my legs under me.

“I have no idea. It’s the strangest relationship I’ve ever seen.” Summer lowers her voice. “She’s either screaming at him or he’s screaming at her. Otherwise, they’re making out.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “If you think about it, that’s exactly the kind of relationship I would expect Hollis to be in.”

“Me too. But it’s so weird.”

“Exactly, like him.”

Summer smirks. “Says the person who made out with him.”

“So? You’ve never made out with a weirdo before?”

“You made out with Mike?” Rupi appears in the doorway, jaw agape.

Uh-oh.

For a second, I debate lying to the girl, until I realize how ridiculous that is. Who cares if I kissed Hollis? Besides, it’s not like he cheated on her with me. “I did,” I confirm. “But you don’t need to—”

“Ha!” she interrupts, her brown eyes twinkling. “I totally knew! Mike tells me everything.”

He does?

“And don’t worry, I’m not mad at you,” Rupi assures me.

“I wouldn’t have cared if you were.”

“Ha, you’re so funny.” She giggles, then asks Summer a yogurt-related question before darting into the kitchen.

“I wasn’t joking,” I tell Summer. “I wouldn’t have given a shit if she was mad.”

She snorts. “I know.”

My phone vibrates, and I commit a girls’ night faux pas by checking it.

JAKE: How’s it goin’ over there? Have you had a girl-on-girl orgasm yet?

ME: Not yet. So bummed.

JAKE: Not as bummed as I am.

Detective Di Laurentis is instantly on the case. “Who are you texting with?”

“Nobody.”

“Don’t say nobody. You literally just texted somebody.” Her green eyes light up. “Are you still secretly dating that Harvard guy?”

I almost blurt out how did you know before I realize she’s referring to McCarthy, not Jake.

“We were never dating,” I answer with a shrug. “We just hooked up a few times.” I hurry on when I see her opening her mouth. “That was Nate, okay? Relax.”

“Ugh. Say hi to him.” She looks disappointed that she hadn’t stumbled upon a major scoop.

If she only knew.

The other girls come back. Rupi is holding a plastic bowl full of a beige-colored mixture. She quickly teaches everyone how to put it on. “Are you wearing any makeup?” she asks me.

“No.”

Daphne glares at me. “Are you messing with us? You’re really not wearing makeup? Not even concealer?”

“Nope.”

“How does your skin look so good?”

“Genetics?” I offer.

“I hate you,” Daphne says frankly.

Under Rupi’s sharp eye, we all start slathering the weird yogurt concoction on our faces. “How long do we leave it on for?” Summer asks.

“Until it dries. No longer than ten minutes, though.” Rupi flops down on her pillow throne near my feet.

From the armchair, I grin down at her. “So what’s the deal with you and Hollis? Are you together now?”

“Of course we are.” She stares at me like I’m from a different planet. “We were together after our first date.”

“Does he know that?” Summer asks in amusement.

“Of course he does.”

I truly can’t figure out if this girl is delusional or—

Actually, there’s no “or.” I think she might be delusional, period.

“It’s been ages. We’re pretty much an old married couple now.” The freshman beams at me. “That’s why I don’t care about you guys hooking up. You weren’t serious about him, anyway.”

I needle her just because. “Maybe I was…”

“No.” Her confidence is astounding. “He’s not your type.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he’s a puppy dog.”

“Who’s a puppy dog?” asks a male voice, and then the puppy dog himself bounds into the room. He yelps when he notices our faces. “Why the fuck are your faces covered with glue?”

“Of all the things you could’ve picked, why glue?” Summer asks in exasperation. “Why the hell would it be glue?”

“I don’t know.” He scans the seating situation, as if he actually has a choice about where to sit.

Rupi pats the pillow next to her.

I swallow my laughter.

Hollis lowers his big body onto the floor. Puppy dog, indeed. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a blue T-shirt that brings out the blue of his eyes. The shirt also hugs his impressive muscles, a sight that’s always a bit jarring for me. Mike Hollis is like an obnoxious kid in a hot guy’s body.

He slings an arm around Rupi’s tiny shoulders. “Yo,” he says.

I hide a smile. I swear, he’s so into her.

“See, you’re a puppy dog,” she informs him. “So silly and lovable.”

“I’m not silly and lovable,” he argues.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not. You can’t compare me to a puppy. You gotta pick something good. Like a stallion.”

“You can’t be a stallion unless you’re super hung,” I crack.

Audrey snorts.

Rupi glances at me in horror. “Brenna! You can’t make disparaging comments about a boy’s penis. It’s damaging to the ego. Just because Mike doesn’t have a stallion penis doesn’t mean—”

“Why are you talking about my dong?” Hollis interrupts. “Which you haven’t even seen, by the way.”

“I’ve touched it,” she says smugly, before patting his knee. “I was just telling everyone that our anniversary is coming up.”

Confusion washes over his face. “We have an anniversary?”

“Yes. Our one-month anniversary.”

“It hasn’t been a month.”

“Well, it’s been almost a month—”

“Two weeks!”

“Twenty days! That’s almost three weeks.” Rupi studies his face. “When is our anniversary, Mike?”

“What?”

I lean back in my chair and enjoy the show.

“When was our first date?” she pushes.

“Why would I know that?”

“Because you were there!” Rupi flies up to her feet and plants both hands on her hips. “You didn’t write down the date? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Who writes down the date of a date?”

“It was our first date. Are you telling me it wasn’t worth remembering?”

Hollis stands too. At six-one, he towers over five-foot Rupi. And yet any bystander can see who really wields the power.

“You showed up here and dragged me to dinner,” he reminds her. “I didn’t even know who the fuck you were.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t curse at me.”

“Well, if wishes were horses we’d all be equestrians.”

“Ha!” Summer lets out a high-pitched laugh.

Daphne looks utterly fascinated. “What on earth does that mean?”

“That’s not a real saying,” I inform him.

“It’s a real saying,” Hollis growls. “My father uses it all the time.”

Summer grins broadly. “Oh my gosh, Mike, your father is as incomprehensible as you are.”

I glance over at her. “Where do you think he learned it from?”

Rupi doesn’t appreciate the digression. She takes an angry step toward him, and now the two of them are in each other’s faces. Hers is covered with that gunk, and his is bright red from frustration.

“I can’t believe you don’t care about our anniversary.” Rupi spins on her heel. “I need to reflect on this,” she declares over her shoulder. A moment later, we hear her stomping up the stairs.

Hollis turns to me and Summer. “Why did you do this to me?” he asks miserably.

“We like her,” Summer announces.

“Of course you do. Of course you fucking do.” He stalks out, too.

There’s a beat of silence.

“Do you think we can wash our faces now?” Daphne asks, grinning.

“Probably?” Audrey answers.

We pile into the hall bathroom where we take turns ridding ourselves of the mask. After I pat my face dry, I can’t deny that my skin feels insanely smooth.

“Rupi said you have to apply moisturizer immediately,” Daphne instructs.

“Lemme grab something.” As Summer disappears, the rest of us admire ourselves in the mirror.

“Oh my gosh, I really do have a pinkish hue,” Daphne raves.

“My skin feels amazing,” Audrey gushes. “We should package and sell this stuff.”

“We can call it Face Glue,” I suggest.

Daphne snickers.

Summer returns with moisturizer, and our skin routine is back in business. Even though they’re all the way upstairs, we can hear Rupi and Hollis yelling at each other. I really wish they’d come downstairs and do it in front of us. It’s such good entertainment.

Instead, we’re provided with entertainment in the form of Hunter arriving home. He looks sexier than usual. Maybe because his dark hair is rumpled and there’s a seductive gleam in his eyes.

He’s exuding so much swagger, I have to ask, “Got laid?”

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.” He winks before heading for the kitchen.

“Could you grab the yellow pitcher from the fridge, please and thank you?” Summer calls after him. “We need refills!”

“Sure thing, Blondie.”

“Huh.” I look at Summer. “You two seem better.”

“We are,” she confirms. “I think it’s all the sex he’s having. The endorphins are making him warm and fuzzy.”

Hunter reappears and sets the plastic margarita pitcher on the coffee table.

“So who was the lucky lady tonight?” I tease.

“No one you know. Some girl at a bar in Boston.”

“Classy,” Audrey says.

He rolls his eyes. “We didn’t fuck in the bar.”

“Does bar girl have a name?” Summer asks as she tops off everyone’s glasses.

“Violet.” He shrugs. “Not to be a dick, but don’t bother remembering her name. She kicked me out like two minutes after the sex.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Cruel woman.”

“Nah. Made my life easier,” he admits. “I didn’t want more than one night, anyway.”

“Classy,” Audrey repeats.

Now he chuckles. “Right. I’m a horrible person for wanting a one-night stand, but she’s not a horrible person for wanting the same thing. Makes perfect sense to me.”

I change the subject, reaching for my margarita. “You ready for the game this weekend?” I ask him.

“Ready as we’re ever going to be. They’ll be tough to beat, though.” The intensity in his voice is promising. At least his head is in the game, and not on all the girls he’s hooking up with. “If we can replace a way to contain Jake Connelly, stop him from wrecking us, then we’ve got a good shot.”

Ha. If they replace a way to not be wrecked by Jake, I’d love to know it. God knows I haven’t found the solution.