I narrowed my eyes at her. Raegan was exotically beautiful, with long, chestnut-brown hair, bronze skin, and honey-brown eyes. Her nose was perfectly small, not too round or too pointy, and her skin made her look like she came fresh off of a Neutrogena commercial. We met in elementary school, and I was instantly drawn to her brutal honesty. Raegan could be incredibly intimidating, even for Kody, who, at six foot four, was over a foot taller than she was. Her personality was charming to those she loved, and repellent to those she didn’t.

I was the opposite of exotic. My tousled brown bob and heavy bangs were easy to maintain, but not a lot of men found it sexy. Not a lot of men found me sexy in general. I was the girl next door, your brother’s best friend. Growing up with three brothers and our cousin Colin, I could have been a tomboy if my subtle but still present curves hadn’t ousted me from the boys-only clubhouse at fourteen.

“Don’t be that girl,” I said. “If you want one, go buy your own.”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “That’s why I quit. They’re fucking expensive.”

I stared at the burning paper and tobacco nestled between my fingers. “That is a fact my broke ass continues to make note of.”

The song switched from something everyone wanted to dance to, to a song no one wanted to dance to, and dozens of people began making their way off the dance floor. Two girls walked up to our table and traded glances.

“That’s our table,” the blonde said.

Raegan barely acknowledged them.

“Excuse me, bitch, she’s talking to you,” the brunette said, setting her beer on the table.

“Raegan,” I warned.

Raegan looked at me with a blank face, and then up at the girl with the same expression. “It was your table. Now it’s ours.”

“We were here first,” the blonde hissed.

“And now you’re not,” Raegan said. She picked up the unwelcome beer bottle and tossed it across the floor. It spilled out onto the dark, tightly stitched carpet. “Fetch.”

The brunette watched her beer slide across the floor, and then took a step toward Raegan, but her friend grabbed both of her arms. Raegan offered an unimpressed laugh, and then turned her gaze toward the dance floor. The brunette finally followed her friend to the bar.

I took a drag from my cigarette. “I thought we were going to have a good time tonight.”

“That was fun, right?”

I shook my head, stifling a smile. Raegan was a great friend, but I wouldn’t cross her. Growing up with so many boys in the house, I’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime. They didn’t baby me. If I didn’t fight back, they’d just fight dirtier until I did. And I always did.

Raegan didn’t have an excuse. She was just a scrappy bitch. “Oh, look. Megan’s here,” she said, pointing to the blue-eyed, crow-headed beauty on the dance floor. I shook my head. She was out there with Travis Maddox, basically getting screwed in front of everyone on the dance floor.

“Oh, those Maddox boys,” Raegan said.

“Yeah,” I said, downing my whiskey. “This was a bad idea. I’m not feeling clubby tonight.”

“Oh, stop.” Raegan gulped her whiskey sour and then stood. “The whine bags are still eyeing this table. I’m going to get us another round. You know the beginning of the night starts off slow.”

She took my glass and hers and left me for the bar.

I turned, seeing the girls staring at me, clearly hoping I would step away from the table. I wasn’t about to stand up. Raegan would get the table back if they tried to take it, and that would only cause trouble.

When I turned around, a boy was sitting in Raegan’s chair. At first I thought Travis had somehow made his way over, but when I realized my mistake, I smiled. Trenton Maddox was leaning toward me, his tattooed arms crossed, his elbows resting on the table across from me. He rubbed the five o’clock shadow that peppered his square jaw with his fingers, his shoulder muscles bulging through his T-shirt. He had as much stubble on his face as he did on the top of his head, except for the absence of hair from one small scar near his left temple.

“You look familiar.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? You walk all the way over here and sit down, and that’s the best you’ve got?”

He made a show of running his eyes over every part of me. “You don’t have any tattoos, that I can see. I’m guessing we haven’t met at the shop.”

“The shop?”

“The ink shop I work at.”

“You’re tattooing now?”

He smiled, a deep dimple appearing in the center of his left cheek. “I knew we’ve met before.”

“We haven’t.” I turned to watch the women on the dance floor, laughing and smiling and watching Travis and Megan vertically dry fucking. But the second the song was over, he left and walked straight over to the blonde who claimed ownership over my table. Even though she’d seen Travis running his hands all over Megan’s sweaty skin two seconds earlier, she was grinning like an idiot, hoping she was next.

Trenton laughed once. “That’s my baby brother.”

“I wouldn’t admit it,” I said, shaking my head.

“Did we go to school together?” he asked.

“I don’t remember.”

“Do you remember if you went to Eakins at any time between kindergarten through twelfth grade?”

“I did.”

Trenton’s left dimple sunk in when he grinned. “Then we know each other.”

“Not necessarily.”

Trenton laughed again. “You want a drink?”

“I have one coming.”

“You wanna dance?”

“Nope.”

A group of girls passed by, and Trenton’s eyes focused on one. “Is that Shannon from home ec? Damn,” he said, turning a one-eighty in his seat.

“Indeed it is. You should go reminisce.”

Trenton shook his head. “We reminisced in high school.”

“I remember. Pretty sure she still hates you.”

Trenton shook his head, smiled, and then, before taking another swig, said, “They always do.”

“It’s a small town. You shouldn’t have burned all of your bridges.”

He lowered his chin, his famous charm turning up a notch. “There’s a few I haven’t lit a fire under. Yet.”

I rolled my eyes, and he chuckled.

Raegan returned, curving her long fingers around four standard rocks glasses and two shot glasses. “My whiskey sours, your whiskey straights, and a buttery nipple each.”

“What is with all the sweet stuff tonight, Ray?” I said, wrinkling my nose.

Trenton picked up one of the shot glasses and touched it to his lips, tilting his head back. He slammed it on the table and winked. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll take care of it.” He stood up and walked away.

I didn’t realize my mouth was hanging open until my eyes met Raegan’s and it snapped shut.

“Did he just drink your shot? Did that really just happen?”

“Who does that?” I said, turning to see where he went. He’d already disappeared into the crowd.

“A Maddox boy.”

I shot the double whiskey and took another drag of my cigarette. Everyone knew Trenton Maddox was bad news, but that never seemed to stop women from trying to tame him. Watching him since grade school, I promised myself that I would never be a notch on his headboard—if the rumors were true and he had notches, but I didn’t plan to find out.

“You’re going to let him get away with that?” Raegan asked.

I blew out the smoke from the side of my mouth, annoyed. I wasn’t in the frame of mind to have fun, or deal with obnoxious flirting, or complain that Trenton Maddox had just drunk the shot glass of sugar that I didn’t want. But before I could answer my friend, I had to choke back the whiskey I’d just drunk.

“Oh, no.”

“What?” Raegan said, flipping around in her chair. She immediately righted herself in the chair, cringing.

All three of my brothers and our cousin Colin were walking toward our table.

Colin, the oldest and the only one with a legit ID, spoke first. “What the hell, Camille? I thought you were out of town tonight.”

“My plans changed,” I snapped.

Chase spoke second, as I expected he would. He was the oldest of my brothers, and liked to pretend he was older than me, too. “Dad’s not going to be happy that you missed family lunch if you were in town.”

“He can’t be unhappy if he doesn’t know,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

He recoiled. “Why are you being so pissy? Are you on the rag or something?”

“Really?” Raegan said, lowering her chin and raising her eyebrows. “We’re in public. Grow up.”

“So he canceled on you?” Clark asked. Unlike the others, Clark looked genuinely concerned.

Before I could answer, the youngest of the three spoke up. “Wait, that worthless piece of shit canceled on you?” Coby said. The boys were all only eleven months apart, making Coby just eighteen. My coworkers knew my brothers had all scored fake IDs and thought they were doing me a favor by looking the other way, but most of the time I wished they wouldn’t. Coby in particular still acted like a twelve-year-old boy not quite sure what to do with his testosterone. He was bowing up behind the others, letting them hold him back from a fight that didn’t exist.

“What are you doing, Coby?” I asked. “He’s not even here!”

“You’re damn right he’s not,” Coby said. He relaxed, cracking his neck. “Canceling on my big sister. I’ll bust his fuckin’ face.” I thought about Coby and T.J. getting into a brawl, and it made my heart race. T.J. was intimidating when he was younger, and lethal as an adult. No one fucked with him, and Coby knew it.

A disgusted noise came from my throat, and I rolled my eyes. “Just . . . find another table.”