Page 5 of Right Number, Wrong Man

COLT

Bass music deafens me. The stench of sweat, weed and beer streams from the mass of costumed teens writhing to the heavy beat.

I grimace. How the hell can anybody dance to this shit? That is, if you wanna call grinding on each other dancing at all.

I hate house parties. Especially on the last night home before bootcamp when I wanted to spend some quality time with my folks. Instead, I’m playing babysitter for my brother, who got grounded but snuck out anyway.

I’m nineteen, one year older than him, but Mike still acts like a kid. Irresponsible is his middle name.

I flip up the collar of my leather jacket. Without a costume and dressed in all black, I don’t fit the Halloween theme, but I don’t care. I’m gonna find Mike and drag his drunk ass home.

Dear Lord, please don’t let Hailey be here , I pray silently.

Four years of swallowing my feelings and watching her swoon over my brother should’ve numbed me. But my throat tightens when I think of her chestnut brown hair and her whiskey eyes. They’re light brown with an amber hue, but that ain’t why they remind me of bourbon.

It’s cause every time our gazes collide, my head spins like I drank too much.

I’m always the first to look away, though. The hatred in her eyes is too much to bear and she’s never tried to hide it.

I bump into a familiar face, recognizing the guy’s curly red hair. He graduated with Mike this year and occasionally comes over to our house, but I don’t remember his name.

“Have you seen my brother?” I shout over the music.

He points dumbly at a broad arch on the opposite side of the open-plan living room doubling as the dance floor. I plow through the sea of bodies until I find myself in the kitchen.

A crowd stands around the central island, watching with bated breath as Mike bounces a ping pong ball into a red solo cup.

The group hollers like he won a million dollars.

They’re so drunk, they barely register when I yank my brother by the collar and pull him to a quieter corner while another player takes over for him.

Mike laughs, slapping my chest with a Wraithface mask clutched in his hand. With black jeans and a black jacket, that’s his minimal effort costume.

“Are you here cause you finally stopped being allergic to fun?” Mike asks, smirking.

“I’m taking you home.”

Mike’s grin drops and he wrenches himself free, suspiciously rubbing his nose. Damn it, he’s snorting oxy again, but I’m not the least bit surprised.

I shake my head. “We had a deal.”

“The hell do you mean?” he slurs.

I lower my voice so only he can hear me. “When your prank got Hailey hospitalized and you begged me to take the fall, you swore you’d get clean. That was the deal.”

Mike puffs his chest. “I didn’t beg!”

“Yeah, you did. You begged like a little boy, scared shitless of the principal and Dad. I kept your secret, though you didn’t hold up your end.”

“I stayed clean until tonight!” he says, but I don’t believe it. “Don’t act the martyr, Colt! Taking the blame was no big deal for you with your spotless record. All you got was a week of detention. I was on strike three!”

A wry laugh wrenches from my throat. “Ungrateful bastard. I should’ve let you get expelled from school. I should’ve let Dad kick you out for good like he threatened if you started using again. Maybe seeing the actual consequences of your behavior would’ve made you come to your senses!”

“Yes, maybe you should’ve !” he sneers. “Maybe getting away from Dad’s expectations and your holier-than-thou attitude would’ve given me some room to breathe! Everybody treats me like a kid, but I’m a grown man and I can do what I want!”

Mike stumbles toward the patio door. He grabs a bottle of vodka from the kitchen counter and staggers out onto the terrace. I follow, closing the door behind us. He gives me the finger while he takes deep gulps from the bottle.

“If you wanna be treated like a man, you gotta act like one. But look at yourself!” I gesture at him. “Instead of figuring out what you wanna do with your life, you’re drinking yourself stupid and doing drugs!”

Mike waves the mask and the bottle around. “Excuse me, Mister future-special-forces!” He hurls the bottle over the lawn and it shatters in the distance. “This better? Guess I’m not allowed to have any fucking fun! ”

I run my gloved hand across my face. “You’re taking it too far.”

“Maybe you’re never taking it far enough.” He laughs, but there’s nothing happy in the sound. “You’re always so stiff. Always boring. Always doing the right thing .”

He snatches my Stetson and puts it on. “Look! I’m Colton, Dad’s favorite fucking son!” He forces the Wraithface mask over my head and the scent of mothballs and alcohol hits my nose. “Try to walk a mile in my shoes. Do you know what it’s like to be the black sheep?” he asks theatrically.

I glare at him, though he can’t see it through the mesh-covered eye holes.

“Do you want pity? Cause you ain’t getting none from me.

Nobody forced you to steal Momma’s painkillers after her knee surgery and pop them like candy with your friends.

Nobody forced you to get into fights in school.

Nobody forced you to play pranks. Those were your choices. ”

“Get off your high horse!” Mike reaches into the pocket of his jacket and takes out a baggie with white pills in it, dangling it in front of my face. “Are you a snitch now, too? Wanna take me to the cops?”

The silence thickens, the muffled, quick bass from inside pumping like my heart. He wants to provoke me and escalate this argument into a fight, but I have no interest in that. I beat him before—every time. Physically we’re evenly matched, but he lets his rage blind him.

“I ain’t no snitch,” I say.

Mike huffs, shoving the pills into his pocket. “Fuck you, Colt,” he grunts, trudging into the kitchen.

He grabs another random bottle from the counter and slumps onto a bar stool by the island, chugging the neon-blue alcohol. His eyes roll. He sways, almost tipping off the chair, but he falls forward and faceplants onto the island. The bottle drops from his limp hand, breaking with a crash.

I heave a sigh. Great. The asshole has passed out. Should’ve gone for beating him sober instead.

As I turn to leave, my eye catches on something white on the ground. My brow furrows. A note? It must have fallen out of Mike’s pocket when he taunted me with the oxy.

I pick up the paper, but when I unfold it, the world stops and the music fades away. There’s a cute cartoon cat in the bottom right corner and only one girl I know uses stationery like this.

My chest cracks as I read the message.

Mike, if you want to see where the night takes us, I’ll be waiting for you in the guesthouse from midnight until 1 a.m.

The day I fear the most has come: Hailey is making a move on Mike.

She’s had a crush on him since her family moved in next-door four years ago. The whole school knew that she liked him, but until graduation this year, Mike dated another girl. He’s single now. So is Hailey. Actually, she’s never had a boyfriend before.

I’d know if she did because I’m her stalker. Not in a creepy way.

I simply spend every free minute following her around town or looking into her bedroom with binoculars I stole from Dad.

Okay, maybe it’s a little creepy, but I just want to protect her.

My stomach cramps as I glance across the lawn, the outline of the guesthouse barely visible in the dark. Dull lights flicker in an upstairs window.

No, I can’t let her get stood up after she found the courage to confess to Mike. It would break her heart.

I’ll go and tell her that my brother is unwell, then I’m getting the fuck out of Dodge. I won’t say another word. I won’t look at her. I won’t even breathe in her direction.

My heart flips as I approach the guesthouse and step inside. The furniture is covered in dusty sheets and if it wasn’t for creaks upstairs, I’d think the place was deserted.

Instinct takes over and I skulk up the steps. I should announce myself, but suddenly my throat is too tight to get out a sound, least of all a proper sentence.

When I reach the landing and see Hailey standing in the bedroom door, my good intentions evaporate.

I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t fucking move. Blood rushes to my crotch and my cock stands at attention.

Hailey wears a sparkly pink Wraithface mask—and nothing else.

Almost nothing, because that lacy lingerie ain’t covering much.

Her nipples shimmer through the sheer bra and I can see the smooth, shaved skin of her sex under her thong.

A hot pink dress—which must’ve been the rest of her costume—lies on the floor, but she kept on a pair of killer heels that make her legs seem endless.

She looks like a sinful angel, the glow of the fireplace in the bedroom lighting her up from behind.

Have I died and gone to heaven? Is this even really Hailey?

I glance at her right forearm and recognize the knife tattoo. When she was sixteen, she had it done at a back- alley tattoo shop, trying and failing to piss off her hippie parents.

She wrings her hands. “I didn’t think you were coming, Mike.”

Shit, she’s mistaking me for my brother. I can see how that could happen cause I forgot to take off his mask and we’re both wearing black.

Hailey got dolled up for him, not for me, I remind myself. I gotta tell her about Mike and leave. Now.

Before I can get a word out, Hailey steps forward.

Her body presses into mine and I freeze like I got a gun pointed between my eyes. She rises on her tiptoes, curling her arms around my neck, her breasts squishing against me. Her fingers slip under the hood of my mask, caressing the nape of my neck.

I swallow a moan. I’ve fantasized about her hands on me, but this ain’t a fantasy. It’s better than that.

She seems so small and fragile, clinging to me. It makes me want to protect her—and then break her. How easy it’d be to pick her up, push her panties aside and take her against the wall while I wrap my hand around her slender neck and squeeze until?—

No, I have to clear up this misunderstanding, but it’s so hard to think with her hips pressed into mine and her perfume in my nose.

Raspberries and roses.

My thoughts are far from proper. That dark, untamed part of my soul awakens like a starved beast, scenting blood.

It craves a hunt. It craves her .

But it can’t happen.

Gently gripping Hailey’s shoulders, I bring some distance between us. I drop my hands, standing there like a puppet with its strings cut… and a massive hardon .

But look at me, I ain’t thinking with my throbbing downstairs brain. I’m being respectful. A well-adjusted, mature male doing the right thing?—

“Is it because you think I’m ugly?” she asks and the hurt in her voice knocks the air from my lungs.

Christ, doesn’t she know that everything about her is perfect?

Doesn’t she know that her eyes light up the world? That her smile is like a cotton-candy sunrise and the way her nose crinkles when she giggles is the kinda stuff people smarter than me write poetry about?

Then there’s her gorgeous tits and that stunning waist. Her long legs and that firm, round ass that would jiggle like grape jelly if I smacked it.

I wish I could tell her that she’s the only one for me and I’ve never even kissed another woman. It’s stupid to save myself for a girl who’d rather chop off her hands than touch me, but sleeping with somebody else never felt right.

Wordlessly, I shake my head. If I speak, she’ll know I’m not my brother.

“You think I’m pretty?” Hailey asks, hope elevating her tone.

I nod—whipping my neck back and forth to emphasize my enthusiastic agreement—and don’t stop until she lets out a soft laugh. Thank God she’s into men who move like a fucking sock puppet with a big ol’ hairy hand up its ass.

“I’ve never… done it with anyone,” she says, her voice hitching.

I bite my tongue to keep my urges under control.

Like I thought, she’s a virgin… and she’s offering herself to me.

Popping her cherry is one of my favorite fantasies in the spank bank. She’s always the main attraction of my dirty thoughts, but there’s more to taking her virginity .

People never forget their first time and I always wanted that for us. A special bond nobody can take away, no matter what happens in the future. I thought it was a pipe dream, but here I am. Here she is.

Ready and willing.

Hailey grabs my gloved hand and my breath stops when she guides it to her breast, forcing the contact. I choke down a guttural groan as her nipple hardens.

Hell, I’m trying to be a gentleman, but there’s only so much a guy can take before his brain turns into mush and the pants department takes control. And right now, my goddamn cock is planning a coup.

“I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re worried about. I only had one cocktail,” Hailey rambles nervously. “There was this college guy who mixed drinks for everybody and he made me something called a raspberry daiquiri. It was so tasty!”

I tilt my head, hoping she’ll give me less reasons to ravish her and more reasons to be an upstanding man.

“And I turned eighteen in spring! I’m old enough to want this,” she adds enthusiastically.

Of course I remember her birthday. I left a gift on her doorstep the night before, a Wraithface plushie she’d been trying to get from a crane game in the mall.

After every shift she worked in a cafe next to the arcade, I watched her pour her tips into that stupid machine. She never got lucky. It took me six weeks to finally win it for her. I could’ve bought the same toy somewhere else, but for some reason, she wanted that one with a mis-stitched eye.

When she found my gift, she came running over— and thanked Mike . The asshole was more than happy to take credit, though to him Hailey is just another girl who hangs around his large friend group .

She’s too good for him. So why should I deny myself the one chance to sleep with the girl I love?

When I leave for bootcamp tomorrow, I won’t see her again for a long time. I’m fine with that because I can’t stay and watch her hate me, but I don’t want to miss tonight.

“You don’t even have to worry about getting me pregnant!” her voice cuts through my thoughts. “I’m on the pill so we don’t need a condom. I want you to be my first and I want to feel all of you.”

I wince. Fucking hell. Did she have to say that?

My self-restraint collapses, leaving my principles in a pile of rubble.

I can have Hailey.

I will have her. Bare .