Free More Than Enough (More Than Series, Book 5) by Jay McLean

bathroom.”
    “Sydney!” the girl yells.
    Jesus.
    Eric approaches, his junk on full display. He pushes me to the side and starts to open the bathroom door. “How the fuck is this your life, man?” I ask him.
    He chuckles and closes the door again. “How the fuck is it not yours is the real question.”
    “Dad!” I shout, smirking at Eric. “Eric’s hiding a girl in the bathroom!”
    Dad laughs. “Morning, Sydney!”
    “Morning, Mal!” she yells back.
    I shake my head. “What the hell?”
    Eric scoffs. “Maybe you’d know what goes on in here if you weren’t out all day on The Drug.”
    Dad walks over to us. “Dylan, are you on drugs?” He cups my chin and looks in my eyes just like Eric did.
    I swat his hands away the same way I did with my brother. “No, I’m not on drugs. What the hell?”
    “I found weed in his footlocker, Pops!”
    I shove his chest. “You did not.”
    “Dylan?” Dad asks.
    “Swear it, Dad. Eric’s talking shit.”
    “Am not!” He stands behind Dad, smirking while giving me the finger. “Go check it, Dad.”
    The bathroom door opens and we all freeze, our words left hanging in the air.
    “What’s going on?” Sydney asks.
    “Nothing, babe,” Eric answers.
    I lift my chin and look at Eric. “You know Dad and I will support you no matter what, E. You’re making it a bigger deal than it is,” I tell him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Besides, the pamphlet said there was a high chance it could be sexually transmitted from dogs. Not that it definitely was. And that case against you when you were seventeen was dropped because you were a minor, right? Plus, the zoo had no real evidence.”
    The windows of the house rattle and the familiar song filters through, saving me from Eric’s response. I pat his arm twice, basking in the glory of his completely shocked face. He shakes his head slowly, as if accepting defeat.
    “I’ll see you later, bro.” Then I look over at Sydney and point to her neck. “You got a little rash…”
    Riley
    I don’t know why Dylan’s standing at my door, his hands in the pockets of his sweats, his shoulders square, and his ridiculously gorgeous smile beaming down at me. Even in my drunken haze, I’ve concluded that he gets better looking every time I see him. Not that it matters.
    “What’s up,” I mumble.
    He steps back slightly and looks down on me. “Regret does not look good on you.”
    Regret doesn’t feel good, either. “What?” I squeak, then shake my head to clear my thoughts but it just makes the pounding worse. “Were you as drunk as I was when you fucked me in my kitchen that you’ve somehow forgotten about it? Because now you’re standing here ignoring the fact that we did, actually, fuck in my kitchen.”
    “Riley, come on.”
    “And now you think it’s okay to show up, looking like you do and smiling like you are after leaving me hanging the day after your so-called ‘regret’ and—”
    “Riley, I don’t regret it,” he interrupts.
    “Bullshit, Banks. It was the first word you said when I opened the door. And it’s cool if that’s how you feel because I regret it too.” I take a moment to catch my breath. “It’s probably a good idea if you don’t come around anymore.” Maybe my anger is unjustified. Actually, I’m sure it is because regardless of how I try to spin the events of two days ago, I didn’t push him away. I did absolutely nothing to stop it from happening. In fact, I encouraged it. And even though I know all this, it didn’t stop me from drinking enough alcohol to cause me to puke in the bathtub. Twice. Then pass out in it while I tried to clean it… and that’s exactly how Mom found me. So while my hurt might be uncalled for, Mom’s reaction to Dylan at the door yesterday wasn’t. She knew he had something to do with my actions. He had to have.
    “Is that what you want?” he asks, dropping his gaze and pulling me from my thoughts.
    It takes a few seconds for me to remember