The backyard is covered in decorations, and I’m guessing the massive one and nine balloons that are tied to the mailbox were not Laiken’s idea. Usually, I come hang out with Cam while they’re setting up. And by they, I mean Mali. Last year, Laiken laid on a hammock they tied between two trees and drank wine straight out of the box.

I wish I was kidding.

Their attitudes may be the same, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. Laiken would rather have a few people over, light a fire, and spend the night cracking jokes at everyone else’s expense because “it’s my birthday and you can’t insult me on my birthday.”

Mali, however, loves to make a show of everything. So, all the decor, the three-tiered cake they have every year, and the tiaras sitting on both of their heads—yeah, all Mali. It’s like every year is as big as their Sweet Sixteen.

And every year, Laiken just wants to get drunk and have fun.

I hop out of my truck and head toward the back to get Cam. I may be strong, but not carry a whole keg across the yard strong. He’s over by the fire pit, arranging the wood for later tonight.

“Yo!” I call.

He looks back at me and nods, but his attention isn’t the only one I got. Laiken’s eyes meet mine, and she smiles. Mali smacks her arm to make her focus while glaring at me for the distraction.

Oops.

“The keg?” Cam asks as he approaches.

“Yeah,” I answer. “Brandon wasn’t there, and the other guy could tell my ID was fake. He almost didn’t give it to me.”

He shakes his head. “You would think he would know to make sure he’s on shift. We do this every year.”

“And every year you don’t invite him.”

Pausing for a second, he hums. “Okay, fair point. But I don’t control the guest list. That’s Drill Sergeant Hughes over there.”

I chuckle. “She already glared at me once. Maybe this will be the year she kills me.”

“If you stick your finger in the cake again, I can almost guarantee it.”

We grab the keg out of the back of my truck and carry it into the backyard. There’s a table set up with cups, and every year the keg goes right next to it, but Cam has to be a smartass about it.

“Where do you want this, boss?” he asks Mali.

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Really, Cameron? Really?”

His lips purse at the sound of his full name. “So, right here then? You’ve got it.”

He puts his side down in the middle of the yard, forcing me to do the same. Mali looks anything but impressed.

“Fine. I’ll just move it myself.” But as she tries to pick it up, it doesn’t even budge. “Laiken! Come help me.”

Looking over at her, Laiken scrunches her nose. “Yeah, no. I make it a rule not to do manual labor on my birthday.”

Cam grins smugly as Mali pouts. After a couple more useless attempts at lifting the thing, she rolls her eyes and sighs as she gives in.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she tells him. “You’re so helpful. My own personal hero with abs of steel. Can you please put it over by the tables?”

“Now was that so hard?” he teases as he nods at me, giving me the go ahead to move it.

Her eyes narrow as she glares at him. “It killed me inside, slowly and painfully.”

We carry the keg over to its proper place and set it down. Cam goes inside to grab the tap from his room, while I take the opportunity that’s given to me. I still need to be careful. There are other people around. But there’s no law about greeting my best friend’s sister on her birthday.

Still, I hug Mali first for extra measure.

“Happy Early Birthday,” I tell her.

“Thanks!” she says loudly then murmurs, “but let’s not pretend you’re here for me.”

I snicker and turn to Laiken. She looks gorgeous. She’s wearing a dress I know she had to be strong-armed into and a tiara she would like to use as a Frisbee, but as she smiles back at me, she’s glowing. Radiating happiness like the damn sun.

Nineteen looks so good on her.

Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her close and breathe in the smell of her perfume. My lips move to her ear, and I speak low enough for only her to hear.

“Happy Birthday, baby.”

She lets out a breathy giggle. “Thank you.”

The term of endearment may be one I save for bedroom talk to keep from blurring the lines, but seeing how happy it makes her, I don’t regret it.

Not even a little.

“All right!” Cam shouts as he comes out the back door, and I release Laiken as she steps back. “Let’s get this bitch ready to go.”

We stand around and watch Cam tap the keg. Once he’s done, he pours four glasses and hands us each one, taking the last for himself. It’s something we started doing two years ago, when the keg was flat and nasty and we didn’t know it until Owen accidentally spit it out all over Isaac.

Personally, I liked that better, but I won’t turn down a beer.

“So, where’d you send your parents this time?” I question.

Cam and Laiken both start to laugh, so Mali answers for them. “Amish Country. Lancaster, Pennsylvania.”

“Oh God,” I cringe. “Your dad is going to hate both of you.”

It was Laiken’s idea, sending them away for the weekend the party is planned for, and after it worked the first year, they’ve repeated it every year since. Cam and Laiken put away some money all year, and then they book a trip that’s non-refundable. They even get in touch with their jobs to make sure they have the Friday before and the Monday after, off work—eliminating all their potential excuses before they’re even used.

“No,” Cam corrects me. “He’s going to hate her.”

Laiken shrugs. “I was all for sending them on that weekend fishing trip he’s been wanting to go on, but then he grounded me. Churning butter will give him plenty of time to consider the error of his ways.”

I chuckle as I look over at her. “Is there any part of you that’s not evil?”

“No,” she answers promptly.

Yeah, I already knew that.

PEOPLE BEGIN TO ARRIVE just as darkness starts to fill the night sky. Mali plugs in the lights she spent the last two days stringing throughout the yard. The whole backyard becomes illuminated just enough—but not too much. She and Laiken look around, taking everything in, and fist bump when they see the outcome.

It’s perfect.

I grab a beer and go sit by the fire, only for everyone else to join me. It’s no surprise the guys are here before everyone else. In another hour or so, this yard will be filled, but no one shows up to a party before ten p.m. anymore.

It’s a concept Cam and Laiken’s parents never really understood when they tried putting a midnight end time on the party—hence the weekend trips. They solve the problem and make it so we can have a keg.

“God, I missed this,” Owen says. “The rain last Friday threw off my whole damn weekend.”

“It almost stormed this weekend, too,” Mali informs him. “Thank God it didn’t.”

Cam snorts. “He probably didn’t want the hellfire you’d bring if it had.”

She cocks a brow at him. “Watch it, Blanchard. You’re already on my shit list tonight.”

Laiken, not paying attention, picks her head up. “What did I do?”

“Not you, princess,” she assures her, tapping her leg. “The other Blanchard.”

“Technically, Laiken is the other Blanchard,” Cam argues. “I was born first.”

“So, what I’m hearing is you want to be on both our shit lists,” Laiken shoots back. “It’s my birthday. You can’t insult me on my birthday.”

I chuckle as I look down at my beer. She may like to think she’s a wildcard, but I predicted that word for word. Either she’s easy to read, or I’ve been spending a little too much time around her.

I’d go with the latter, but there’s no such thing as too much time when it comes to Laiken.

“Aid,” Cam says, getting Aiden’s attention. “Stop checking out Hayes. It’s creepy.”

I lift my head in time to see Aiden flip Cam off before he turns back to me.

“I’m just trying to figure out what’s up with him lately,” he says, squinting like it’ll help him see into my soul.

Shit. Leave it to the team moron to notice a shift in my attitude. Can’t shoot the puck into an empty net but can spot the second I’m in a slightly better mood than normal.

“Fuck off,” I tell him. “There’s nothing up with me.”

“No, no,” Owen agrees. “He’s right. You’re different.”

I roll my eyes, trying to play it off. “All of you fuckers are delusional.”

After a moment of feeling like I’m in a damn fishbowl surrounded by people staring at me, Aiden snaps.

“I know what it is,” he says confidently. “He got laid.”

Jesus Christ.

Cam scoffs. “When doesn’t he?”

“Thank you,” I reply, putting out my fist to bump his.

That should be the end of it, but while Aiden figured out the start of it, Owen fills in the rest. He smirks as he tips his cup at me.

“But this one he actually likes.”

Motherfucker.

My heart starts to race, even as I will it to slow the fuck down. I spare a quick glance over at Laiken. She’s looking down at her phone, trying to make it seem like she’s not paying attention, but the small smile playing on her face tells me she’s listening to every word.

“Is that true?” Cam questions.

I chuckle, lifting my beer to my lips. “I have no idea what you dipshits are talking about.”

“Good for you, man,” Cam tells me, seeing right through my act. “Good pussy is hard to find these days.”

I’m mid-sip as the words leave his mouth, and the sharp breath I suck in has more beer than air. I cough violently as I try to expel the beer I just sucked into my lungs. Everyone’s eyes are on me, which is good. That way they’re not paying attention to Miss Fit-of-Giggles Mali over there.

And Laiken? Well, she looks like a cross between smug and grossed out. But if Devin unknowingly referred to me as good dick, I’d feel the same way.

THERE’S NO REASON FOR me to feel the way I do right now. Absolutely none. And yet, every single time I see a guy pull Laiken into his arms to wish her a happy birthday, I want to bounce their head off a curb.

It makes no sense.

I’ve had plenty of female friends, a decent amount of them that I’ve hooked up with, and never once did I feel the least bit possessive. Then again, I never craved their touch when I couldn’t have it, either. I was around for a good time, not a long time.

And that’s the same way I should be with Laiken, but things with her never seem to go the way I planned.

She stands beside me as we play a game of cornhole—her and Mali on one team, Cam and me on the other. Thankfully, she’s not nearly as good at this as she is at beer pong. But it’s still cute how she gets mad every time she misses.

She’s so close that all it would take to touch her is putting my arm out. And yet, she might as well be across town.

I start to wonder what the likelihood of me being able to sneak into her room later is. After Cam passes out from drinking too much, there’s no chance of him waking up. But like she is with everything else, Laiken is loud in bed. If anything was going to manage to do the impossible, the sound of his sister screaming in straight pleasure would do it.

“Hey,” Laiken says, pulling me from my thoughts. “It’s your turn.”

Whoops. I focus on the hole and aim as I toss the bag, watching it go right in. Cam grins triumphantly while Laiken groans.

We’re now up by seven.

“What were you thinking about?” she asks quietly, waiting for Cam and Mali to gather the bags for their turn.

“Nothing,” I lie.

She snorts. “Bullshit. You were doing that thing where you chew on the inside of your cheek.”

My brows raise as I smirk. “Paying close attention to me, Rochester?”

Her gaze turns to Mali and Cam, but her words are meant for me as she drops her voice a little lower. “Better than picturing you above me in bed while we’re in the middle of a party.”

I let my jaw fall open just slightly as I chuckle in disbelief.

“You do it when you’re turned on,” she explains.

The fact she knows that does not bode well for me. Devin may be able to tell when I’m full of shit, but Laiken’s ability to read me goes so much further than that. If she sees that I’m more invested in this than I should be, I’m fucked.

Then again…I’m fucked anyway.

“Oh!” Mali squeals, dropping the bags in her hands. “Laiken, come with me. Monty is here.”

Without so much as a glance in my direction, Laiken walks away and the two of them excitedly head toward the front of the house. I take a sip of my beer, using it to disguise the rage that’s building inside of me, as Cam and I meet in the middle.

“Who the fuck is Monty?” I growl, a little too obviously.

“Montgomery Rollins,” he says.

Rollins. The name rings a bell, but I can’t put my finger on it. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“Because his dad is Jeremiah Rollins.”

“The senator?” Son of a bitch.

He nods. “That’s the one. Apparently, they met him at a club one night a few weeks ago and hit it off. You would’ve heard all about it if you didn’t skip the bonfire.”

Ugh, great. So the fact that Laiken is now besties with who the media calls one of North Carolina’s Most Eligible Bachelors is my fault. Jeremiah Rollins is on track to be the next president, and if his son is anything like him, he’s exactly the kind of guy I picture Laiken ending up with.

“I met him when he picked them up for lunch one day,” Cam continues. “They think he’s great, but if you ask me, he’s a fucking douche.”

His words resonate as Laiken comes back into view with Monty’s arm draped over her shoulders. It doesn’t matter that he’s just as physical with Mali—that’s Cam’s problem to deal with.

He needs to get his fucking hands off my girl.

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