Playing Fate (Endgame Series Book 1) (2 page)

“Emberlee,” she says, her voice devoid of welcoming cheer. She turns, calling out down the hall, “Avery, the new chick is here.” I blow out a breath;
this should be fun
. My foot crosses the threshold as another beauty queen comes into view.

“Hi. You’re Saylor?” Her black hair is full of curls and pulled into a loose ponytail. Her face is flawless, and her dark brown eyes seem to dance with lightness. Emberlee with her superstar looks but not the height to pull off the runway—both of us could be considered short. Avery is average height but so fucking gorgeous.

“Yes.” I try to shake her hand, and her laughter trills as she pulls me into a hug.

“Honey, we’re Midwesterners, no hand shaking here. Maybe some ass grabbing and definitely lots of hugging.” I’m not from a touchy-feely family; hugs and gestures of emotion are reserved for achievements and condolences, not for greetings.

“Okay.” I pull out of her arms, and she is still smiling at me.

“Ignore Lee Lee. She can be a bit snooty.” My eyebrows furrow, and she’s lost me in this conversation. “Emberlee. I call her Lee Lee. Everyone does. Her bark is worse than her bite. I’ll show you your room, and then we can chat.”

“I have to unpack my car.” I grabbed my purse and overnight case before coming in, but the rest of my crap is still waiting to be unloaded.

“No you don’t. The boys will be back from the store in a few. They can grab it.”

I freeze. “Boys? I thought it was us three.” I’m going to kill my mom. I wasn’t much of a dater in high school, but she was always pushing me. This is too far.

“Mason and Caden live next door. Deacon the other side them.”

“Ummm. O—kay.”

“Come on. We gave you the master because Lee Lee and I are used to sharing stuff. We’ll take the two single rooms so we don’t bombard you with our bathroom mess.” I nod because I have nothing to say. I’m suffering information overload. “Emberlee, get in here and be pleasant.” She looks at me and winks, “That is something she rarely is.”

I’m excited to have my own space, and I try not to seem overeager. I don’t want her to think I don’t want to socialize with them. The room is huge; and I’m thrilled the furniture my stepdad paid for was delivered and set-up. Just have to make up the bed with linens I brought and unpack. “Thank you.” I try and hide my discomfort with a smile.

Emberlee saunters in, still aloof, and I don’t think I’ll be using her nickname anytime soon if her vibe is any indication. She flips Avery off as she sits across the room from us in my desk chair. Avery rolls her eyes and gives her back the same gesture.
Are they friends?
“So tell us about you, Saylor.” This seems to perk Emberlee up, and she gives me her undivided attention.

“Like what?” I don’t know if I’m interviewing for a position or if they are trying to get to know me.

“Where are you from? What is your major? Why Kansas?”

“New Mexico and Florida. Marketing Degree. I was accepted.”

“Wow, you’re a tough nut to crack. Do you have any friends?” Avery is being funny, but it still hurts.

“Not really.” Honesty is the best policy.

“What? I was teasing.”

“I didn’t socialize a lot in school. We moved to Florida five years ago; everyone had a group, and I was the new girl.” I shrug like it doesn’t bother me—because it didn’t until I had to admit what a loser I am.

“Oh, you’ll socialize. We’ll make sure of it.” Emberlee rolls her eyes.

I stand from the bed. “I’m going to get my stuff.”

“Stop! I told you it would be handled.”

Emberlee shocks me, “Yep. Let those assholes do something.”

“Our hometown is Eastborough, about twenty minutes from here. The guys I mentioned—we grew up together. It used to be a crew of six, now it’s just us five…” The front door hits the drywall, and shouts are heard.

“Lee Lee! Avery!” They both roll their eyes but move from the room. I stand to follow them and watch as Emberlee runs to a real life Adonis and wraps her legs around his waist. Avery does the same to David Beckham’s doppelganger . . . clean-shaven.

“We’ve been gone an hour. What are y’all gonna do when we have classes all day?” Holy shit! There’s a third one. He’s better than the two getting mauled by my roommates. His hair is cut short, military style. I can barely make out the color, but it looks caramel, something I want to unwrap and take a bite of.

“Hush, you just wish your hands were full of this luscious ass,” the one I referred to as Adonis says. He puts Emberlee down, and Avery is plucked from the other guy’s arms and Lee Lee takes her spot. It’s like Russian roulette with hot guys. What did I get myself into?

“Hey, I’m Deacon. You must be the roommate.” His eyes are the lightest shade of grey and blue mix and I’m lost. I swallow and nod, which earns me a smile. A dimple-showing-perfect-teeth-panty-melting-smile. “You have a name?”

Avery comes to my rescue after extracting herself from built arms. “This is Saylor. Saylor Lewis, this is Deacon Douglas.”

“Hi.” My vocabulary has abandoned me in this moment.

“Hey.” His chuckle is my favorite melody. “This is Mason Adler,” AKA Adonis, “and Caden Monroe,” AKA David Jr.

“Where’s Julie?” Emberlee wraps her arms around Deacon’s waist.

“I’m helping these assholes unload stuff then picking her up.”

“No partying for you this weekend?” He shakes his head no. “I’ll stop by and see her.”

I stand there staring at him for a few moments then remember I have a car full of things, and I’m out of my element here. As I walk by, I feel his eyes follow me. Stupidly, I turn back, and Emberlee’s narrowed eyes are sending me a silent message. I get it loud and clear . . .
back off
.

With everyone helping, it takes no time to unload, and when they head to the other side of the house, I shut and lock my door so I can unpack and get some time alone. Deacon. I don’t know what I was thinking ogling him. I’m here for a degree so I can get a job to support myself. Relationships and crushes aren’t on the agenda.

Julie. That name reminds me it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Lucky girl and from the gist of it, he doesn’t share his time when she’s around. Nobody invited him to the party they were throwing; they didn’t invite me either, but it is at the house I am living in, so I guess that’s an open invitation. One I’m not taking.

Unpacking box after box, I’m lost in my own world until I hear music thumping so loud the walls shake and then a knock at my door. “Saylor, it’s Avery, open up.”

I turn the lock, and she barrels in. “Oh, you can’t wear that to your first college party.” Her eyes scan over the baggy jeans and t-shirt I changed into.

“I’m not going. I want to finish unpacking, climb into that decadent bathtub, and relax.” I nod my head towards the bathroom. The gray garden tub is beckoning to me and that beats a raging party in my living room. Sorry, I’m lame.

“Is it because of Emberlee? I know she can be a bitch, but she’s a softie. Her armor is as soft as Charmin when you get to know her.”

I shake my head. “I know she isn’t thrilled with me; I haven’t figured out why, but that’s not the reason. I’ve been traveling for days and really just want to unwind tonight.”

“It’ll be loud,” she cringes as she warns me.

“I know. Good thing I like my music loud and have headphones. I’ll be fine.” I smile to reassure her.

“If you’re sure.” Her feet shuffle in excitement and nervousness. Avery seems like the go with flow type, the one friend everyone needs.

“Yep. Is anyone here yet?”

“Nope. Not for another hour. You need something?”

“I’m gonna run to the store real quick and get some Coke.”

“There’s some in the fridge. You don’t need to go.”

“It’s not mine.”

“Wow. I see I’ll need to school you on the rules of living with us. We don’t have yours and ours unless our name is on it. You’ll see copious amounts of chocolate around the fifth of every month . . . beware that’s mine.” Her voice is filled with laughter.

“I don’t feel right drinking your Coke. I’ll go get some real quick.”

“The hell you will.” She turns and storms off in a huff. I’m stunned for a few minutes because this relaxed, easy-going girl just got a burr up her butt over soda. Spotting my flip-flops, I push my feet into them and search for my keys and purse. Those two things are never together. My purse is visible under the mounds of collapsed boxes, and my keys magically appear on my bed. Looking around to make sure I haven’t left anything out of place, I notice how empty my walls and shelves are. Making a mental note to find a store after I get my books, I decide I need to get some color in here.

“Here.” Avery’s voice startles me. I twist to face her, and she’s holding a gigantic cup, thrusting it towards me. “Coke. With crushed ice. Anything else you want, help yourself.”

“Wow, Avery. Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“You just did. Drink it. Relax tonight. Tomorrow we’ll get to know each other, and things will be fine.”

I nod. I’m a misfit in this group. Lonely Girl has interrupted Party of Five. Her eyes soften. “Just drink it.” Her body is through my door before I can form a syllable, so I shut and lock the door, lean against the wall, and take a gulp from my cup, sighing in absolute heaven. I’m not a coffee girl, give me Coke, preferably the real thing, and I’m golden.

Hurrying through the last of collapsing boxes and hanging clothes, I run a hot bath and submerge my body. Clicking my playlist to shuffle, I put the ear buds in and lose myself in Dan+Shay. I try to ignore the loud crashes, girly squeals, guys hollering . . . but I can’t. I dry off, get dressed, and collapse in bed with my journal. My safe place to say what I need to without anyone hearing me, consoling me, judging me.

Today I arrived in Maize, Kansas. 1,291 miles from Macclenny, Florida. The house I’ll live in for the next four years (hopefully) is gorgeous. Brick, huge yard, everything I wished for growing up. Avery is nice, welcoming. Emberlee I’m not sure about. There are three other guys—they all grew up together—and the mysterious Julie. That’s Deacon’s girl.

Avery tried to get to know me, and I froze. What can I say? I look at this as a fresh start. I won’t be the girl abandoned by her dad, the girl whose dad got himself killed. I won’t be the new girl living with her grandparents and mom. I won’t be Jack’s stepdaughter. Here, I’m just Saylor. I create my future, but first I need to let go of my past.

I’ve spent seven years trying to act like him leaving didn’t matter. I’ve spent five pretending his death didn’t impact me. I was his daughter. He used to love me, and I never got to ask him what changed. Watching my mom scrub floors, do other people’s laundry, cook, work retail, sell any product from make up to oils . . . all to pay off the damn motorcycle that killed him.

I want to ask her how she let herself fall in love with Jack, but she’ll give me her sad look and spew shit that I don’t believe.

Good thing is the three guys living next door are hot as hell. I’ve never been that girl, but these guys could turn a nun into a whore. No lie.

I put my pen down and read my pitiful words. Exhaling, I shut it and turn my thoughts off. My walls vibrate, shrill laughter, drunken antics behind my door, but I don’t care. I smile and realize the freedom in front of me. Drifting off as Saylor Lewis . . . girl unknown for the first time in seven years. No preconceived notions swirling around me. No expectations for myself. College. Graduate. Succeed. Those are my goals. My endgame.

I don’t think a nuclear bomb could do more damage than I’m staring at. Beer cans, bottles, liquor filled glasses, chip bags, food littering the floor. This is disgusting, and I refuse to walk out the front door without picking up. I tried. All the years of watching my mom slave over someone else’s mess are burned into my memory; and while this isn’t my mess, I live here. Searching the kitchen, I find trash bags . . . an entire box because it will take that. Game plan—I’ll start in the great room and pick up and wipe down. I can’t vacuum until everyone is up. Move to the kitchen and repeat until I can stand to see my house. The scrubbing and the music pumping in my ears allow me to disconnect. ‘Tell Me” by He Is We is blaring as I finish loading the dishwasher and turn, coming face-to-face with Avery. Screaming, I yank the ear buds, “Jesus. You scared the shit out of me.” My hand is over my heart, which is pounding at an unhealthy rhythm.