Page 189 of Phobia

“I’ll be there when hell freezes over, buddy.”

I rocked back and forth on my heels and waggled my eyebrows. “Well, lucky for you, the theme this year is ‘Hell on Earth,’ and I’d be happy to toss a few ice cubes down the front of your costume. Problem solved. You’re invited too, Nate.”

“Invited where?” Nate asked.

“To the house of the great overlord on All Hallows’ Eve,” Gage deadpanned with a straight face.

Nate’s nose scrunched up and his mouth pressed together into a thin line. “Yeahhhhh no. It’s a hard pass for me. Besides, nobody wants to party with this old guy.”

“Hey, we like your old-man ass.” Nate flipped Gage off in response, but I was distracted thinking about what they’d both said.

I didn’t really understand why people had such a problem with Blaine. Was he stuck-up and oftentimes emotionally bland? Yes. But he’d always been nice to me. Maybe they were jealous of his family’s status in the community—they pretty much owned this town. Somewhere way back in his mom’s family tree was Marshall Asheburke, the town’s original founder, first mayor, and an entrepreneur who’d also started several businesses here that were still thriving to this day. His dad’s side consisted of a long line of successful lawyers and doctors. Grandma’s wealth, though substantial, was like mere pocket change to the Asheburke-Colfields. Their pockets randeep.

I frowned and jutted my bottom lip out. “You two suck. I’m not gonna have anyone to talk to there.”

Nate scratched at the scruff on his chin. “Isn’t Blaine your best friend? Why would you have nobody to talk to at his party?”

I scuffed my foot along the hallway carpet, cheeks coloring for an entirely different reason this time. “He stays busy doing the whole host thing. I usually just dance, or whatever, if there’s nobody around I really know.” They gave me identical “Are you shitting me?” stares—the whole one eyebrow raised, one eye squinting at me, head cocked look.

Gage shifted and propped against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Ihavebeen to his parties before, Graysin. You’re foolin’ nobody by making up excuses for his shitty behavior. He spends his time doing two things. One,” he counted on his fingers, “trying to buy favors by batting his pretty eyes and passing around his illegal three-hundred-dollars-apiece Cuban cigars. And two, sitting around on his throne drinking glass after glass of Johnnie Walker, while lording over the two hundred people partying in his mommy and daddy’s mansion. Okay, three things if you count the lines of coke and the pills he takes throughout. There’s no ‘hosting’ involved, only stupidity and flaunting of wealth, and he damn sure ain’t too busy to talk to you. That’s fucked up.”

Despite Gage’s negative opinion, most people tended to overlook Blaine’s supposed shortcomings at least long enough to spend an evening in the Colfield mansion. Their parties were something of a legend around here. No expense was too much or too over the top, with top-shelf liquor, live entertainment, and delicious food that usually consisted of a menu that had been created by a friend of the family—a chef who’d earned Michelin stars for several of his restaurants. Last Halloween, Blaine even had Disenchanted Jerks, one of the hottest rock bands right now, play at the party.

Nate tugged his ball cap lower and reshaped the curved bill. “I will never understand rich people.”

Irritation exploded in my core and clawed its way to the surface. “You guys just don’t know Blaine the way that I do. He’s a good guy. Don’t talk shit about him.”

“Hey, hey.” Gage held his palms up like he was holding me back. “I’m not trying to get you all riled up about this, nor do I really want to stand around debating the merits of Blaine Colfield. I just think you need to pull the rose-colored glasses off once in a while.” He poked me gently in the chest with one finger. “Consider that a free tip, my dude.”

I sent my best squinty-eyed glare his way, and the smirk I got in return was infuriating. “Turn around and I’ll show you where you can shove your free tip.”

Nate snorted and left us to it, heading toward the attic stairs that led to his room. Gage grinned and threw one arm around my shoulders and followed it with an overly loud and overly wet kiss to my cheek. “With that attitude, you’ll surely be fine on your own at the party.”

I pushed him away and wiped at my face. “Go shave your asshole, asshole. It’ll make it easier to stick all this unsolicited advice up it.”

He turned around in the doorway and tugged at his low-hanging basketball shorts, exposing the round tops of his firm cheeks. “Already did. Wanna inspect it for me?”

“You missed a spot.” I lifted one foot and shoved him gently in the ass.

Gage winked at me over his shoulder. “Thanks for the assist.” Hiking his shorts up as he turned around, he began to slowly walk backward into his room. “Ask Kellen to go to Hell with you. You won’t know until you try.” The genuine smile he gave me dissolved what was left of my annoyance, and his words, though I didn’t know if they were snarky or if he was just being funny, gave me the boost of confidence I needed. I’d ask Kellen tomorrow night.

Chapter 2

The front door creaked open and closed a few seconds later. Kellen was right on time, just back from Pumped, the gym a few blocks away where he worked part-time. I caught him before he ran upstairs to shower.

“Kellen?” I called out from the kitchen. He backtracked and popped his head around the wall. The blindingly bright smile he gave once he saw me had my pulse racing. Even the sight of him in his uniform of black sweatpants and a gray staff/trainer T-shirt did it for me. His eyes, an even darker shade of brown than the mop of hair on his head, meshed perfectly with his flawless olive skin. The only blemish, if you will, was a small half-inch scar near his hairline, but it added character.

He wasn’t as tall as Gage or Nate, but he was a good two inches taller than me. His build was perfection—strong, sleek, sexy. I often wondered what it would be like to slip in beside him on the couch some evening, to feel the strength of his arms as they wrapped around me, and the press of his cheek against my hair while we watched a movie. I also fantasized about how amazing it would feel if he held me by the throat and squeezed, stealing my air while he fucked my brains out.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He stepped into the kitchen, where I stood next to the center island beside a take-out bag. “What’s up?”

And there went my heart, thumping away in my chest. Okay, so maybe there was some truth to what Gage suspected. After all, Kellen didn’t call Nate or Gage gorgeous, though they certainly were.

I held up the bag of Chinese food—his favorite. “I ordered Chinese. They sent extra for some reason.” True, but the extra was just an egg roll. I’d ordered plenty of food. “More than I can eat. Want some?”

“You’re a doll. Thank you.” He grabbed at his T-shirt, pulling it away from his body and exposing his tight abs. I bit my bottom lip and tried not to stare, clearly failing because his wide smile slipped into a knowing smirk when my eyes met his. He tugged on the shirt again and then let it snap back into place. “I just need to shower first.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting. I mean, the food will be waiting.”