Too Hard: Hayes Brothers Book 5
Too Hard: Chapter 7

THE NEIGHBORHOOD IS ONE OF THE FANCIER ONES, not far from Nico’s house. I’ve been here a few times, but it’s been a while. Brandon Price is only throwing the graduation party because, just before he took Mia to Europe, Nico categorically declined my, Conor, and Colt’s pleas to throw the party in his garden.

I drive past the line of cars adorning the curbs and enter the driveway of Brandon’s villa.

Well, his parents’ villa, Brandon’s not moving out until he returns from his around-the-world trip next year.

Large, modern villas, ostentatious cars, and immaculate lawns as far as the eye can see—feels familiar.

People crowd the place like they did Nico’s driveway whenever we threw a party. It looked different while we were hosting and purposely overlooking the mayhem. Now, seeing the thick crowd flocking toward the back garden, I’m surprised Nico ever let us throw any parties.

In our defense, at least we didn’t let people roam the house. There’s no such rule here.

I step onto the gravel, lifting my head when someone calls my name. Justin hangs out the top floor window with Finn, red cups in hand.

“Where are the other two?” Justin hollers.

“Colt’s on his way, and Conor’s getting here later,” I say, fetching a case of Corona from the trunk.

I’m not a fan of the beer Brandon imports for his bangers, so I came prepared.

“Cody!” Mikaela yells, waving me over from the front lawn where she’s loitering with her friends.

She took the cheerleading captain position last year after Blair got removed by a majority vote.

“You look like you’ve had one too many already,” I say, heading over. “You need coffee.”

“You’re such a buzzkill sometimes, babe. Loosen up. It’s your last college party ever!”

“Which is why I want to remember it, not spend the evening napping on the pool lounger.”

She sticks her tongue out because that’s precisely what happened to her at Halloween. She fell asleep before ten o’clock.

“Do me a favor tonight,” I say, tossing my arm over her shoulders to tug her closer. “Don’t take any pills, okay?”

She pouts, playfully pushing me away. “What did I say? Buzzkill! Seriously, Cody, why so tense? You should loosen up a bit, babe. Wanna hand?” She wags her eyebrows, a cheeky smile lighting up her face.

I smack her ass hard enough to sting. “Behave. Toby would have my balls if he heard that.”

“Why yours? I’m coming on to you here.”

“He’d replace a way to lay the blame on me, don’t you worry.”

Mikaela is Nico’s best friend’s little sister, and after Toby picked her unconscious ass up from one too many frat parties, he asked me, Conor, and Colt to watch her.

It’s not easy. She’s an unattainable wild cookie. Nothing like Mia. Looking after Mia was a breeze compared to this. Thankfully, our role ends tonight but Mikaela’s got another year before she graduates.

I bet Toby’s already scouting another babysitter. Ever since he became a father, he’s extended the role to Mikaela as well as his actual kid, even though she’s not one anymore.

“You know where to replace me if you change your mind,” she chirps, kissing my cheek.

I leave it without a comment. It’s all a harmless joke, anyway. Mikaela has her eyes on a different prize, but she enjoys the banter and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.

Leaving her there, surrounded by a veil of friends, I walk up to the wide-open front door, pretending I can’t see the freshman pushing his hand under a girl’s skirt a foot to my left. I wouldn’t ignore it if she showed any signs of distress, but she’s not opposing. Quite the opposite. Her fingers are tightly clasped around the bulge in his jeans.

Nothing new. Scenes like this are the bread and butter of college parties. At least all those I’ve ever been to.

More people fill the entryway, kitchen, and living room, the place bursting at the seams. Kelly-Ann dances on a table, a guy I don’t recognize grinding behind her, groping her boobs. She takes a swig straight from a bottle of vodka, a loud cheer ripping through the crowd when the guy spins her around and shoves his tongue down her throat.

That girl is all about the show. She may look hammered after a few sips but she’s got a real high alcohol tolerance.

I make my way further into the house, greeting the throng of familiar faces. Brandon’s sprawled on a large, snow-white sofa in the secondary living area that overlooks a massive pool in the garden.

Two babes hang on his arms, one grinding against his side. I don’t know either, but they look young enough to have freshly graduated high school.

I cast a quick glance around, searching for Blair, still unsure whether I want her here or not. I’ve not heard her leave her condo today, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t. It’s not like I press my ear to the door all day, tracking her every move.

“Cody!” Brandon booms, grinning as he pushes the chicks aside. “Shit, man. I half thought you weren’t going to show.” He glances at the case of beer I’m holding, two wrinkles denting his big forehead. “You brought beer? There’s plenty of that here, man. Corona included. I know you don’t drink the imported stuff I like.” He summons his minions with a flick of his wrists before grabbing the case.

A second later, I’ve got an ice-cold bottle in hand, and Brandon’s pulling me into an armchair, his face twisted into an uncertain look.

“Listen, we gotta talk about Blair. I know she lives across the hall from you.” He falls silent as if waiting for permission to continue his monologue.

I expected this conversation, so I urge him on.

“I know I’ve got no right to ask a favor, but…” He rakes his fingers through his gelled-up hair, “…can you leave her be? She’s dealing with enough shit. She doesn’t need you or your brothers making things worse.”

I watch him, my teeth clashing behind my lips. Blair and Brandon grew thick as thieves this past year. I always thought they were just fuck buddies. Rumors have been flying around since she was a freshman that Blair was in love with him, dreaming of a relationship, and he’s kept her close, enjoying easy pussy.

Convenient—that’s what everyone called their weird relationship. It made sense, but since last year, or rather—since Brandon started earning his place back in our circle—I saw their relationship in a brighter light. The way he defends her paints a different picture than casual sex.

At some point, I noticed the protectiveness, the worry in his eyes whenever I caught him looking at her. It reminded me a lot of what my brothers look like whenever they watch Mia.

It’s safe to assume I sport the same look.

While I don’t rule out the sex-only relationship between Blair and Brandon, since neither dismissed the rumors, I think there’s more there. They’re friends. Very close friends. Whether sex is on the table, I don’t know, but there’s definitely mutual respect.

The fact he’s talking to me about her now proves the point. He’ll be traveling the world in less than a month, but he’s making sure Blair’s covered.

He knows that of all the Hayes, I hate her most. He also knows I’ve not fully forgiven him for what happened to Mia, yet he boldly risks pissing me off to make sure I keep my hostility toward Blair on a leash.

I did a pretty damn good job of that while she played with my nephew last weekend. I even said hey when we were both leaving the building on Wednesday. I don’t see how tonight or any other day should be different.

I’m the bigger person, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make people aware of that.

Squeezing his neck, Brandon continues, sensing he won’t be getting any words from me on the subject of Blair Fitzpatrick. “You must’ve said something if she decided not to show up today. She promised she’d be here.” He stares in contemplation at the floor before peering up at me. “I want her here.”

“It’s your party. I don’t decide who you invite.”

“Promise you won’t storm out if she comes.”

A scoff leaves my lips. “Stop acting stupid, Brandon. I’m not a fucking drama queen.”

He pushes all air from his lungs, his shoulders slumping in relief. “Alright, good. You think you could keep an eye on this place while I get her?”

I scan the thickening, drunken crowd. “Can I kick out anyone who gets on my nerves?”

“Anyone but Blair,” he confirms, rising to his feet. “I shouldn’t be long.”

He pats my shoulder and walks away, leaving me in charge of babysitting his guests. Thankfully Colt arrives ten minutes later with our little sister, her excitement palpable as she stamps a kiss on my cheek before beelining for the garden.

“Alright, alright!” Justin booms, entering the living room. “We’ll play a game. Remember our very first college party?” he asks Colt and me as he plops down on the couch. “That game was fun.”

“You mean the R-rated seven minutes in heaven?” Colt scoffs. “I think we’re a bit too old to play that now, man.”

Justin’s smile fades, then returns brighter when Finn slams a glass salad bowl on the table.

“We’re playing. With or without you.” He takes his watch off, settling it in the bowl.

Justin does the same, and within minutes, at least thirty watches are added. We were fresh out of high school last time we played this. While a quick fuck with a random girl in the closet sounded fun back then, it doesn’t now.

I know most girls from college now. There’s a lot I wouldn’t mind getting hot and bothered with, but just as many I’d never touch.

“I’m out,” I say, closing my palm over my watch so Justin can’t snatch it off. “You have fun, though.”

When I’m in the mood for sex, I choose the girl instead of leaving it to fate. Besides, I’m definitely not in the mood after my earlier encounter with Ana. One stalker is quite enough.

She stopped by again like she has done every day since she found out where I live. I stopped answering her calls and texts, leaving her standing outside all week. But today was different… she got inside the building and knocked on my door.

Massaging my temples, I push the memory of our conversation aside. I yelled…

I fucking hate yelling at women, but Ana left me no choice.

Needing a distraction, I head to the kitchen for two more Coronas. By the time I’m back, Conor’s there with his girl, and Colt’s missing his watch.

“Come on, Cody.” He points at the bowl. “This is our last night of stupidity. Come Monday, we’re no longer students. Life starts. What have you got to lose?”

My lips part, but words don’t come because he’s right. I have nothing to lose, and it’s not like I never fucked a girl I barely know. Maybe a quick deed will help me work out the frustration seizing my muscles.

With a deep, defeated sigh, I pass him one beer, then flick my watch off, adding it to the pile.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Finn yells, handing Vivienne the bowl. “Mix it up a bit, will you?”

She grins, elbowing Conor. “Give me your watch.”

He cocks an eyebrow, but like a good boy, he obeys, only placing his on top after she’s mixed the others.

“I pick first,” she announces, snatching Conor’s TAG Hauer off the pile with a cheeky smile. “Now what?”

Finn cackles beside us. “Now you have seven minutes to fuck in Brandon’s coat closet.”

At this point, I think she’ll back out, but to my surprise, she grabs Conor’s hand and follows Justin to the closet by the main entrance.

“Someone time them!” Colt shouts.

“Okay!” Finn calls over the music pumping in the garden and the excited chatter around us. “Girls, if you wanna play, step out of the crowd.”

At least twenty rush forward. Some sober, some tipsy, some barely holding their weight—those won’t be allowed to play. No way anyone’s touching a girl too drunk to know what she’s consenting to.

Not after what happened to Mia last year.

The whole campus saw the video, and not a single girl has been inappropriately touched since. Too bad it took Mia getting hurt for some of those fuckers to stop thinking with their dicks.

“What’s going on?” Brandon asks, arriving with Blair.

My whole body immediately stiffens.

Now this girl… this girl I’ve known my whole life. I have no idea who the girl playing peek-a-boo with my nephew was, but it wasn’t the Blair I know. It was an act, a façade now entirely ripped away. She’s back to her usual slutty, bitchy self.

It’s a relief if I’m honest. The uncertain, cute-tee-and-jeans-wearing Blair has been horning into my thoughts way too often this past week.

Technically, she’s showing less than she usually does at these kind of parties. Her boobs normally spill from the flimsy confinement of a deep cleavage dress, but tonight, there’s none of that. Her dress is a long-sleeved turtleneck, so her boobs aren’t on display. Technically.

In practice, the gold, shimmering scrap is so damn short her sky-high legs are bare, the hem an inch over her butt. It’s so damn tight I can count her fucking ribs.

How a girl so thin—even though she gained weight lately—can sport that chest is a mystery. Her boobs aren’t big. Quite small, actually, but so perky and perfectly round I could spend hours lost between them, I swear.

She sits opposite me, beside Brandon, and once our eyes lock, I’m fucking glowing.

My skin’s itching.

My mind’s reeling.

God, I fucking hate this girl.

But my dick doesn’t. It never did.

A twinge of self-consciousness passes through her, evident by the little shudder in her shoulders. Something like hurt clouds her face before she marshals it, nonchalantly turning her head the other way.

Good job riling me up at the start.

I wish this was my party so I could show her the door like I did on Halloween.

Brandon’s burning gaze idles between us as he swallows hard, torn between loyalty and ass-kissing.

My fingers tighten around the neck of my beer. Like I said, I’m the bigger person, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make everyone aware, so instead of storming out like Brandon predicted, and like I’m dying to, I meet his unblinking gaze.

“You want in?” I motion toward the bowl.

Relief shines in his eyes before a smile widens his face. “Seven minutes? Fuck yes!”

“Couple number one is already getting lucky in the closet,” Colt says, draining half his beer. “About done now, too, so get this moving along, Finn.”

“Alright!” Finn jumps to his feet, studying the waiting girls. “Remember the rules! No whining, no quitting, no swaps. You get who you pick! If you’re not willing to take the risk, step back.” He stares down the guys next, with the same conviction in his eyes. “Same goes for all of you. Anyone who breaks the rules gets a bottle of Patrón and won’t leave until it’s empty.”

“Oh, shut up already,” Mikaela chuckles, stepping out of the line. “I’m drawing first.” She closes her eyes, tilts her head back, and rummages through the watches, pulling out a silver one on a blue suede strap.

A guy steps in—Mick Harris—his smile brighter than a camera flash as he takes Mikaela’s hand, leading her out of the room. Good job Toby can’t see this, or he’d fuck up every person in the vicinity.

I’m supposed to keep the girl safe, but who she lets between her legs is none of my goddamn business, so I stay put.

Conor returns with his Little Bee a moment later, a satisfied gleam in her eyes, his dick hard in his pants. I bet a hundred they’ll be out the door within thirty minutes since he obviously got her off and saved his load for later.

The bowl empties slowly. Finn approaches another girl once the last couple returns, and I’m hoping my watch is next so I can be done before the closet becomes a biohazard.

“You want another beer?” I ask Colt, setting my empty bottle aside. “I’ll go grab a smoke, too. You coming?”

“I don’t think so,” he says, motioning his chin at Anastasia, who holds his watch between two fingers.

They had a casual thing going until she fell in love with some doctor around Christmas time. The grin splitting her pretty face as she beckons Colt with her long, manicured finger says it didn’t last.

“At least you know what you’re getting yourself into,” I say, squeezing his shoulder.

“It’s been a while. Maybe she learned something new.”

“One can hope.”

I rise to my feet in sync with him, but we go our separate ways as I navigate outside, where most of the party is happening. Six stands behind his console on a makeshift stage by the pool playing an original song he recorded with Mia last month.

At least two hundred people dance, make out, and drink in smaller and larger groups. Some seniors lurk in the shadows, either getting high, ogling the topless girls playing volleyball in the pool, or both. Taking a moment to enjoy this last night of irresponsibility, I pull a cigarette packet from my back pocket, light one, and lean against the wall, watching the crowd.

Nothing will be the same come Monday. My best years are over and the real work begins.

The real life.

While part of me can’t believe I’m no longer a student, a bigger part is glad it’s over. Maybe I’d have a different outlook on life if I hadn’t watched my brothers starting families these last few years. The happiness and bliss they all share.

Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I’m missing out.

“Hey, hey,” Rose chirps, materializing out of nowhere to lean against the wall beside me. “Having fun?”

“Can’t complain. You? How many of those have you had?” I point at the red solo cup she’s clutching with both hands.

“Just three, Dad. Tastes like water.”

I mess up her hair. “You know I’m the last one to nag. Just checking if I should haul your ass back to my place later and leave a bucket by the bed.”

“Is that an invitation?” She elbows my ribs. “I wouldn’t mind crashing at your place tonight. I was staying with Conor and Vee, but they need more than seven minutes. I didn’t pack my earplugs, and I bet they’ll be at it as soon as we step through the door.”

“Yeah, better if you stay with me. I’ll tell Conor before his balls turn blue.”

She chuckles, tiptoeing to kiss my cheek. “Thank you. If I’m not too hungover, I’ll make you breakfast.”

“Deal. Go have fun. Let me know when you’re ready to head back.”

With a tight nod, she crosses the lawn, joining her friends, and I go back inside, grabbing three bottles of Corona while passing through the kitchen.