Page 32 of Four More The Merrier

"Hey now, a man my size needs his sustenance."

My smile falters as I catch sight of Jarron and Austen sprawled across the bus's leather seats. Two women I don't recognize are practically in their laps, all glamoured up despite the casual holiday setting.

"Great. Princess decided to grace us with her presence," Jarron drawls, his arm tightening around a blonde's waist.

Austen runs his fingers through his hair, looking anywhere but at me. "Mommy and Daddy vacationing in the Maldives for Thanksgiving?"

"Boys," Lyle warns, steering me toward the makeshift buffet set up on the kitchenette counter. "It's Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, we're all about giving around here." The blonde in Jarron's lap giggles at his sarcastic tone. "I'll be giving Daisy something later on tonight."

I have stop rolling my eyes so much when it comes to the shit Jarron says. I'm afraid they'll get stuck like that.

The groupies excuse themselves to "powder their noses," leaving us to pile our plates with turkey and all the fixings. I settle onto the couch next to Lyle, who's already demolished half his plate.

"My mama would kill me if she saw us eating on paper plates," Beau says, dropping into the seat across from me.

"Better than the year we tried to deep fry a turkey in my backyard," Lyle says between bites. "Nearly burned down the whole neighborhood."

"Remember when Aunt Cheryl caught us sneaking beers at fourteen?" Austen asks Jarron, a genuine smile breaking through his usual smirk.

"She made us clean the entire barn with toothbrushes," Jarron laughs, shaking his head. "What about you, Princess? Any good Thanksgiving disasters?"

The question catches me off guard. "Um, well... my dad always insisted on watching football while my mom cooked. One year she got so mad she threw the remote out the window."

"Did it break?" Lyle asks.

"Nope. Landed in a pile of leaves. Dad had to rake the whole yard to find it."

Beau raises his plastic cup. "Alright, what's everyone thankful for this year? I'll start - I'm thankful my sister finally had her baby last month. Made me an uncle."

"I'm thankful the paternity test came back negative," Austen grins.

"I'm thankful for..." I pause, my voice softening. "For this opportunity. For being here, even if I didn't exactly get the warmest welcome."

Jarron shifts in his seat, suddenly very interested in his mashed potatoes. Austen runs a hand through his hair, a habit I've noticed he does when he's uncomfortable.

"I'm thankful we found such a talented opener," Lyle says, bumping my shoulder with his. "Even if some people were too stubborn to see it at first."

After the paper plates are cleared, and the food is packed away, Lyle starts setting up red Solo cups in triangles at each end of the coffee table. My head's already buzzing from two beers, but when Beau catches my eye and pats the space next to him, I think what the hell.

"Teams?" Lyle asks, filling cups with beer.

"Me and Quinn," Beau says before anyone else can speak. "Time to show these city boys how we do it in the sticks."

"Please." Jarron rolls his eyes. "Austen and I were beer pong champions of Pike house three years running."

"Frat boys," I mutter, making Beau snort.

The first few rounds are close, but Beau and I find our rhythm. His steady hand makes up for my wild throws, and soon we're up by three cups.

"Beginner's luck," Austen grumbles, running his hands through his hair for the hundredth time tonight.

I sink another shot, the ball making a satisfying splash. "Or maybe you boys peaked in college."

"Watch it," Jarron's jaw tightens as he misses his next throw. "At least I earned my spot. Didn't have to rely on some desperate label's pity contract."

"You don't know anything about me." The beer sloshes in my cup as I stand too quickly.

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