Page 37 of I Choose You

Mackenzie walks up behind us, and I do a double take. She’s chewing on something—bubblegum?—and it’s distracting as hell the way her silky lips fold in with each chew. “What’s going on?”

“Oh good, you’re here.” Luke’s eyes land on her and brighten. “We’re throwing a party tonight. I invited the four of us and a lot of booze. This one,” his eyes dart to mine with a bored glare, “doesn’t want to partake.”

“He wants us to get wasted,” I tell her. “I can’t; I have shit to pack.”

Luke flops down on his bed and pulls his phone from his pocket. “You’ll get over it. We haven’t let loose in ages, and there’s no better time. Layla doesn’t have to work tonight, and Kenz is here, too. Almost like it’s meant to be.”

Mackenzie rests against the other side of the jamb, eyeing Luke. “You remember what happened the last time we drank, right? You vomited all over the place.”

Luke moves his phone out of his line of sight to explain. “That only happened because I ate too much greasy shit beforehand. I’ll never eat buffalo chicken dip again before drinking. Talk about a bad fucking choice.”

Mackenzie giggles, dissolving into a moment of laughter. The sound steals my attention, and it’s enough to have me backtracking.

“I’m in. Let’s do it.” Her gaze turns to me. “It’s only one night. All your stuff will still be here in the morning.”

Her hazel stare weakens my spirit. Two minutes ago, I was dead set on packing tonight, but with the way she’s looking at me—lips pouty and eyes imploring—the need to be prepared for my move fades. “Fine.” I shift back to Luke. “But you’re helping me in the basement tomorrow, hangover or not.”

Mackenzie cracks up at my brother’s lame attempt at twerking. He’s rolling his hips the best he can, and I’m left wondering how the hell we got to this point. I’m uncomfortable as I watch this disaster play out in front of me. The only decent thing about it is I get to listen to Mackenzie’s laughter. It’s the perfect distraction as I try to ignore Luke and drink my beer.

When I groan and guzzle down a mouthful of it, Luke stops and turns to me. His hands are on his hips, and he pushes his ass out. “Fuck you and your groaning. I don’t see you up here trying to do it better than me.”

The girls turn in my direction. There’s no way in hell I’m getting on that coffee table and making a fool of myself. I had a couple of shots and beers, but I’m not that wasted. Besides, it wasn’t my dare.

Layla jumps to her feet, hops onto the table, and starts smacking Luke’s ass as his hips get back to rolling. To them, this may be the best entertainment in ages. For me? Well, I devour the full contents of my beer, the bitterness trailing down my throat in a more desirable way than what’s in my line of sight.

Watching my brother twerk isn’t exactly my idea of a fun time.

“Wait, wait, wait. Let me get my camera open!” Mackenzie fumbles with her phone, grasping it from her back pocket, and I watch. She’s clumsy tonight, her phone nearly clattering to the ground a handful of times before facing the correct direction with the screen on. How is she still standing? She opted for the wine Layla brought earlier but drank a shot of rum beforehand. I’m tempted to check the coffee maker to see if she demolished a pot of caffeine on her own, but their back and forth steals my attention.

“Get a good video of it so I can use it as blackmail for later.” Layla’s expression turns mischievous, the corners of her lips lifting.

“Hey!” Luke twists around, pointing at Mackenzie. “These hips are only meant for Layla. Put the phone down.”

“Or what?” she challenges, a spark of courage coming out. It’s the last thing I see as I rise from the couch and go into the kitchen for another beer. I grab two in case Mackenzie decides to abandon her wine.

When I walk back in, she’s joining Layla and Luke on the coffee table. I’m not even sure how the three of them fit up there, but they’re making it work while they thrust and roll their hips as if they’re part of a dance video. I scrub a hand over my face, stuck on the glow growing on Kenzie’s face, and pop the bottle cap off both beers. I can’t say I don’t enjoy the languid roll of Mackenzie’s hips when she turns and shows off. Or the way her round ass pops in and out. Or the way her shirt moves higher to reveal a sliver of her stomach when her hand comes up to the back of her head. I tilt my head and rest the rim of my bottle on my lower lip before taking a swig.

They all shift, and Luke’s nasty ass blocks my view.

“This is wrong on so many levels.”

“Oh, hush,” Layla shouts. “We’d give you lessons, but it turns out there’s not very much room left.”

“Thank God for that,” is all I say before Layla loses her footing and falls back off the coffee table. Her ass hits the carpeted floor, and she rotates onto her back. I dart from the couch to check on her. Luke continues to twerk, totally oblivious that his girlfriend just tumbled from the same table he twerks on.

“Shit, are you okay?” I extend a hand to her, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she pushes her head back into the carpet and looks at the ceiling. Then she bursts into uncontrollable laughter, her chest falling and expanding with each outburst. It settles the panic in me, but… “No wonder he likes you so much. You’re as crazy as he is.”

I leave her with her fit of laughter to lie on the floor. After another minute, Luke notices and drops to the floor to help her up. I’m thankful as shit when he does it, so I don’t have to watch him popping his ass out every other second. Mackenzie is radiant when she makes it back to the couch, and I extend a fresh beer out for her. Her cheeks are flushed, and her bangs stick to her forehead before she swipes them aside. My gaze glides over her openly, and fuck, why does she have to be so goddamn alluring? Why do her leggings have to hug her ass like that?

Relief hits me once we’re all situated back into a sitting position. When Luke said he wanted to have a party, the last thing I expected was a juvenile game of truth or dare. We’ve been taking turns, going around the room, daring one another to do ridiculous things. It was Mackenzie’s idea to have Luke twerk. Before that, we challenged Layla to eat a jar of pickles.

Truthfully, I wish I could say I’m here for my brother, but Mackenzie is stealing my attention tonight. Like that night with the rum, the alcohol coddles my lust and adds to the desire building in my balls. One more glance at her round ass or full perky chest, and I’m going to have to excuse myself.

Layla’s eyes are on me as soon as the three of them calm down, and I have to admit, I don’t like the gleam in them. “Okay, this is going to be the best one yet.” She rubs her hands together, looking at the ceiling before angling her body toward me.

Assuming I’m the one receiving her dare, I say, “Don’t tell me you want me up there twerking next.”

She takes a gulp from her beer bottle, smiles devilishly, and shakes her head. “Nope.”

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