But I’d made her bleed. I f**king hated that. All I’d been able to think about in those first few seconds of seeing the blood on her lip was what if next time, it wasn’t during rough sex? I opened my mouth to respond, when loud banging came from my door.

Maci and I both froze, and her eyes got massive when we heard the voices.

“Get out here, you pu**y! Let’s go get a beer!”

She was off me and scrambling to find her clothes so fast that she stumbled into my dresser, and hissed a string of curses as she started to dress. I’d just grabbed a pair of jeans and was stepping into them when the banging got louder and they started up again.

“We’re busting down your door if you’re not out here in ten seconds! Ten, nine . . .”

I grabbed Maci’s face, and kissed her hard. If they found out tonight, so be it. But I would really rather it not happen this way. Not when their little sister looked like we’d just had a night like we had. The lamp was broken on my bedroom floor; her shirt—that she’d given up trying to put on before grabbing one of my own—would never be able to be worn again; the handle of my bedroom door had put a dent in the wall; the comforter and sheets were on the floor; and the headboard to my bed wasn’t even up against the wall anymore.

“. . . six, five . . .”

“Don’t let them back here,” she pleaded and walked toward my closet.

“. . . four, three . . .”

I finished buttoning up my pants, shut my bedroom door, and tried to stay silent as I ran to the door.

“. . . two, one! You asked for it, Green! We’re coming in!”

I swung open the door and saw Dylan, backed up, his leg raised in the air like he’d been getting ready to kick down my door.

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” I hissed, and stood in the doorway.

“What took you so long?” Dakota asked and pushed past me, quickly followed by Dylan. “It’s Friday, let’s go out.”

“Uh . . .”

“Man, you look like shit,” Dylan said on a laugh and dropped onto my couch.

The same couch that just earlier, I’d started literally tearing Maci’s clothes off her.

“What’s wrong with you? Not going to say anything?”

I tore my eyes from the couch and looked at Dakota. “I’m exhausted. I went in Thursday morning and didn’t get back until a few minutes ago.” Or a couple hours. “I had just started falling asleep when you came beating on my door.”

“Ah, shit man, I’m sorry,” Dakota said with a sympathetic look before throwing his arms out. “Sorry you turned into such a bitch. Get ready, we’re going out.”

“Why are you breathing so hard?” Dylan asked suddenly, and I had to force my body not to stiffen.

“I woke up to you bastards yelling and hitting my door. I thought someone was breaking in and I was going to have to shoot someone. So I have a shit ton of adrenaline coursing through my body right now.”

“Boo-fucking-hoo. Are you coming out with us or not?”

“Not. Dakota, I told you, I’m f**king exhausted.” At least that was true. “I’ll go out with you tomorrow night.”

“Fine, fine. But get some damn sleep, because I’m holding you to that.” He stood and Dylan followed. “Maybe Maci wants to go out with us, I’d bet she brings Amber with her.”

Oh shit.

“Oh f**k yeah, let’s go talk to her.”

“She’s not there,” I said suddenly and tried to school my expression when they turned back around.

“What do you mean? Her car’s in her spot,” Dylan walked toward the front door, and I thought of anything that would make sense right now without me looking suspicious.

“Yeah, she was getting in Amber’s car when I got home. From the way they were dressed, they’re probably not hitting the bars around here tonight.”

“Fuck, if she comes back with a guy, you better f**king call us.”

I just nodded and walked toward my door.

“I’m serious.”

“I hear you, Dylan. If I hear a guy in her apartment, I’ll let you know.”

“All right, see you tomorrow. Seven sound good?”

I nodded and pounded my fist against Dakota’s. “Yeah, see you both then.”

Dylan punched my arm as he walked out my door. “Get some sleep so you’re not such a pu**y tomorrow.”

“Well, if you’d leave, I would!”

As soon as the door was shut, I locked it and went over to the window to watch Dakota’s truck. Once they took off out of the parking lot, I practically ran back to my bedroom and flung open the closet door.

Maci launched herself at me, and crushed her mouth to mine.

“Please tell me Amber won’t be at the bar tonight,” I begged against her lips.

“No, no. She got called into the hospital before you even got home.”

“Thank God,” I breathed and kissed her again, stopping when I finally noticed her body. “Why are you shaking, sweetheart?”

“I just—I thought—I . . . f**k,” she cried, and her head hit my bare chest as a sob tore from her throat.

“Maci, no . . . don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Holding her close, I walked us over to my askew bed, and sat down with her in my lap.

“I thought they were going to find out. They can’t find out,” she said between strained sobs. “They’ll make us stop seeing each other.”