NINETEEN

NINETEEN

The air changed the second they stepped into the clearing.

It wasn’t just in my head. I felt it—this sharp, invisible drop in energy like someone had sucked all the warmth out of the fire and replaced it with static.

Everyone around me went still for a beat. The guys each drew in a long breath and exhaled like they were preparing for something unpleasant—like soldiers steeling themselves before walking into enemy fire.

Across the field of logs and packed dirt, Raven, Lena, and Ivy strode toward us with smug expressions and glossy lips curled in smug smiles. They looked like they were about to take the stage at a club, not stroll through a forest.

All three wore clingy mini skirts that barely counted as clothing and cropped long-sleeved tops that must have been bought from the kids' section.

Lena’s chest in particular looked like it was engaged in a full-blown escape attempt—both above and below the stretched fabric.

And as if that wasn’t enough to prove how deeply they misunderstood this setting, they each wore towering black heels that sunk slightly into the soft earth with every step.

We were in the middle of the woods. It was cold. There were roots and leaves and mud. This was not a runway, and it definitely wasn’t pavement.

I couldn’t help it—a laugh bubbled up in my throat before I could stop it. The image of them spending half an hour trying not to faceplant on the forest floor was too vivid to ignore. The laugh slipped out as a quiet, involuntary giggle.

Raven’s head snapped toward me like a predator catching the scent of a challenge. Her glare could’ve melted metal. But she didn’t say anything. Not yet. She turned back toward the boys with her sugary-sweet persona fully intact.

“I brought your favorite tequila!” she trilled, lifting the bottle like she was offering them a sacred gift. “Thought we could celebrate the start of the school year—another step closer to Alphahood for you two.”

Her voice was cloying. High-pitched. And loud enough to shatter glass. She bounced—yes, literally bounced—toward Max and Jade, heels wobbling slightly on the uneven dirt, and batted her lashes as she closed in.

“But,” she added with an exaggerated pout, “I forgot the shot glasses.”

The expression was meant to be flirtatious. It landed somewhere between forced constipation and a toddler begging for candy.

“You could always go old school,” Selene chimed in dryly, not even looking up. “Straight from the bottle. Still technically hygienic.”

Raven turned to her, slowly. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, which now glittered with open challenge. I saw her eyes flick to Leo, whose arms were wrapped snugly around Selene’s waist. Her lip curled.

“Thanks for the tip, new girl,” Raven said with a voice dipped in honey and venom. “But I was thinking my boys could take their shots off me. Way more fun. A nice warm-up for later, you know?”

She flipped her hair like a weapon, angling her body toward the twins again. The move was precise—calculated. Possessive.

My boys.

The words crawled under my skin like ants. What gave her the right to claim them like that? And why did it bother me?

“I’m gonna take one off Selene,” Leo said casually, shooting a grin at his girlfriend and raising his eyebrows suggestively.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips.

Meanwhile, I sat frozen, trying to decode what the hell was happening. Was this some weird party ritual? A game? A tradition? I felt completely out of my depth. Every part of me wanted to disappear into the firelight and pretend I wasn’t here at all.

“You want to go next, Matty?” Lena purred, sliding toward my brother like a cat in heat. Matty? That was a new one. Since when did she call him that?

She didn’t wait for permission. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing herself flush against his back like she owned him. It was supposed to look flirty. It just looked... awkward. Forced.

Milo didn’t pull away, but the way his shoulders tightened said everything.

“That leaves you and me, Ethan,” Ivy declared, already making her way over. She dropped herself between his legs before he could respond. Only Ethan stood up immediately, and she tipped backward, nearly tumbling over the log behind him.

Someone probably got an eyeful. Ivy didn’t even pretend to care.

“What about Shorty?” Ethan said suddenly, glancing at me. “We can’t leave her out.”

My stomach dropped.

“Who?” Raven asked, blinking in feigned confusion.

“Shorty,” Ethan repeated, gesturing toward me. “She still needs a partner.”

The moment Raven was forced to register my existence, her smile turned brittle. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind being the odd one out,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Or we can just grab one of the other guys to keep her company.”

Like I was an extra chair. An afterthought.

“NO!”

The shout came in unison—from all five guys.

The sharpness of it made me jump, and it wasn’t just me. Raven, Lena, and Ivy froze mid-movement, clearly blindsided by the intensity.

“Jeez,” I said, giving a nervous laugh. “Okay, that was dramatic.”

I forced a smile. “It’s fine, really. I’m not offended. Go on, do your thing.”

I tried to match Raven’s breezy tone, even if my insides were buzzing like a live wire. The last thing I wanted was to derail whatever weird flirtation ritual this was. This wasn’t my scene—and I didn’t want to ruin it for them.

Selene caught my eye and gave me a look filled with quiet understanding. I mouthed, It’s okay.

Then, without warning, she stood and grabbed my hand. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Milo narrowed his eyes. “She’s not drinking, Selene.”

“Oh my god, obviously,” she said, exasperated.

She pulled me over to the log beside Leo and practically dropped into his lap again. Then, in one smooth motion, she lay back across my legs like I was a human bench. Her shirt rode up just enough to reveal the flat plane of her stomach.

“Okay, Milo, do your worst!” she giggled, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Leo caught on instantly. “Oh, this is so much hotter,” he said with a low growl that made me cringe a little—but not enough to back out.

Milo snatched the bottle from Raven’s stiff hands and approached, brows raised but silent. Carefully, he poured a small stream of tequila into Selene’s belly button. She squealed from the cold, wriggling slightly against me.

Then Leo leaned forward.

His tongue grazed the line of her jeans, trailing up her torso slowly—teasingly—before circling around her belly button. His hand slipped behind me, gripping one side of my butt like it was part of the furniture. His other hand smoothed along Selene’s waist and settled on my knee.

Then he bent his head and took the shot, sucking up the alcohol with infuriating slowness.

He never looked away from Selene.

That’s when the discomfort eased.

He wasn’t performing for the group. He wasn’t even trying to make me uncomfortable.

He was focused entirely on her—and despite the weirdness of it all, I realized they’d just found a way to include me without forcing me to do anything I didn’t want to do.

Leo gave my knee a squeeze, right over the exact spot that tickles just enough to make me squirm. I let out a startled giggle before I could help it.

And somehow, that tiny laugh made the whole moment feel okay.

I wasn’t drinking. I wasn’t performing. I wasn’t being humiliated. I was part of it—but on my own terms.

I wasn’t the extra.

Not tonight.