If You Could Only See (Buchanan Brothers Series Book 1) Page 4

  Gabriel’s voice reached me from behind, “Just say the word, Mase, and we’ll all go tell Dad to eat a dick.”

  I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped from my chest. Like I said, Gabriel’s loyalty ran deep. “I’m fine, Gabe.” As long as Shane stayed to herself and didn’t take an interest in anyone, I could wait out the remaining months until graduation.

  Now, if she took an interest in someone…well, then all bets were off.

  I didn’t even have one foot on the grass of the front yard and people were already calling out our names, blowing out whistles and all that shit.

  “Hey Mason!”

  “Yo, dude, it’s the Buchanans!”

  “Aiden, bro!”

  “Oh my god, they’re here!”

  I almost turned around and just headed back home.

  Gabe was right. If we weren’t here to fuck or fight why in the hell did we even bother?

  I looked back at the twins right before we got to the front door of the house. They both looked at me and gave me a slight nod.

  Once we walked through this doorway, we didn’t need to be in each other’s pockets, but we’d all be connected to each other in some way, shape or form. At least one of us will always know where any of the other one of us is.

  I took the bond with my brothers seriously.

  We entered the house, and it was everything you’d expect a kick-off-the-new-semester party would be. Music was blaring, people were drinking, guys were peacocking, and girls were competing for attention.

  I didn’t judge the fun. It just never grabbed my attention like it did most people. I wasn’t sure if I should curse my father for my sense of responsibility or thank him.

  Within a matter of minutes, a bevy of blondes, brunettes and redheads surrounded us. Black, White, Asian, Indian…you name it.

  And believe it or not, they were battling with football players, student body members and just a crowd of people for our attentions.

  It was very sobering.

  And idiotic.

  We weren’t celebrities or famous athletes or congressmen. We were just four students at an elite private college for fuck’s sake.

  I glanced back at the twins and they were being swarmed by females on every side. It was like watching the nature channel, all hunter and the hunted like.

  My laugh turned into a cringe when I heard one girl ask Gabe-in what had to be the most annoying voice in the world, “So, which one of you is Mike and which one is Gabe?”

  The ice in Gabriel’s voice made me wince. “Neither of us are,” he answered, rudely.

  The girl looked confused as she said, “But I thought…”

  “My name is Gabriel, not Gabe, and my brother’s name is Michael, not Mike,” he explained. “Unless you’re related to us, if you want us to answer you, then you had better call us by our names and not some familiar nickname you think you may us by.”

  The table went silent, and the girl turned an ugly shade of red. But, hey, Gabriel was right. Nothing was more annoying than someone who thought they knew you just because they’ve heard of you.

  Aiden broke the uncomfortable silence. “So, where’s the beer station?”

  A lacrosse player named Brad, I think, answered, “Oh, the hard liquor is in the kitchen, but all the kegs and ice chests are in the backyard.”

  “I’m going to go grab a beer,” I told them as I turned to head towards the backyard.

  “Me, too,” Aiden added.

  The twins showed off identical dimpled smiles as Michael said, “We’re going to head over to the liquor section of tonight’s festivities.”

  I smirked and shook my head. “Alright, catch us out back once you get your fill.”

  Aiden and I bobbed and weaved our way straight through the living room, passing up all the handshakes and ‘what’s up’s, until we reached the patio off the back of the house. I’ve partied at this house plenty of times, so I knew my way around. I knew there’d be a pool and that the odds that there’d be naked chicks in it. I knew there was a small change room that held the dirtiest of secrets within its walls.

  We made our way to the kegs and ice chests and, as always, I plucked a capped beer out of one of the coolers. I never drank a beer that I didn’t open personally. None of us did.

  I had just handed off Aiden’s beer to him when I felt the weight of some store bought tits on the back of my left shoulder. I stepped back and turned around to see Amber, a fellow business and finance major student, smiling up at me. “Hey, Mason,” she cooed.

  I took in her look for the night and even I had to admit that Amber Reinhart was the complete package. She had perfectly highlighted blonde hair that went with her cornflower, bright blue eyes. Her tits were fake, but whoever her surgeon was, he did a fantastic job in creating an hourglass figure for her. Her tits showcased the width of her hips and she was always put together.

  Too bad for her she did nothing for me.

  “Hey, Amber,” I greeted back.

  She gave me-what I presumed-was her version of a sexy smile and said, “So, all four Buchanans at one party. No wonder it’s a packed house.”

  “It makes me wonder,” I said, honestly.

  “Oh, come on, Mason.” She put her hands on her hips. “Even if you weren’t the heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire, you can’t tell me you don’t own a mirror.”

  I knew my brothers and I didn’t fall short of good looks, but I learned early on that anyone willing to suck my dick because I had money or good looks was, more often than not, willing to suck someone else’s dick if they were just as good looking or had just as much money.

  I didn’t need my dick sucked that badly.

  “Thanks for the compliment, Amber. I’ll be sure to pass it along to my brothers,” I told her, wondering if she could register the sarcasm in my voice.

  Evidently not, because she stepped towards me again and continued on, “You know, Mason, we’ve known each other for three years and we’ve yet to spend time together. Alone.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Amber, I don’t spend time alone with anyone,” I pointed out to her.

  “But I’m not just anyone, Mason,” she replied, confident in herself and of her worth. Good for her.

  “Oh, really? And what makes you so special, Amber?” This I had to hear.

  She leaned in closer, and I let her. “Once I get in your bed, Mason Buchanan, there’s not anything I won’t let you do to me,” she promised.

  I stepped back to make sure I could look her in the eye when I said, “That doesn’t make you special, Amber. That makes you desperate.” Her face turned red, and it surprised me she didn’t slap the shit out of me. Especially when I added, “I’m not interested in desperate,” then walked away.

  Chapter 7

  Shane~

  Two tequila shots and two beers later, I was feeling absolutely no pain.

  I mean…No. Pain.

  Why have I never partaken in this bubbly of goodness before? I have no idea.

  As I stood on the fringes of the group of people Viola was talking with, I took notice of how my body felt absolutely no stress.

  There was no tightness in my shoulders, no weight across my shoulder blades, no tension behind my eyes. Nothing.

  Nothing, but languid muscles and relaxed body parts.

  It felt amazing.

  I think this is the first time I’ve ever just felt the life around me and my mind wasn’t constantly spinning with school, work or my future.

  No wonder people turned to alcohol and drugs to make their problems go away. If two beers and a shot or two of tequila was making me feel like this, I couldn’t imagine what drugs did for a lost soul.

  Not that I had any plans to turn to alcohol or drugs to relieve my future stress, I was just saying I get it. I get the allure.

  Viola was in an animated conversation with her boyfriend-not-boyfriend, Micah, and while I liked Micah, we never really chatted. However, he was kind enough to bring me a beer when
he brought another one for Viola.

  And the beers hadn’t been opened. He scored major points with that one.

  I was two drinks into my new beer when I noticed the surrounding crowd fall into a quiet lull. I scanned their faces to see what had captivated them, but before I could gander at a guess, I felt a heavy, masculine arm fall around my shoulders. It was paired with another masculine body flanking my other side and I immediately knew the reason for the sudden hush.

  The. Goddamn. Buchanan. Twins.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Pretty Girl,” said…well, I’m not sure which one he was, but when I turned my face to look at him, I noticed a very faint scar slashed right underneath his right eye. I made a point study the mark so I could tell the difference between them in the future.

  I cleared my throat, very aware that everyone was witnessing the exchange in rapt fascination. “I came with my friend, Viola,” I said, nodding in her direction.

  Twin #...well, I still didn’t know…looked over at her and gave her a quick jerk of his chin in acknowledgment. “You having a good time?” he asked me.

  I had to clear my throat again. This kid was making me antsy and super killing my buzz. “I am.” I glanced over at the other identical face of perfection paying attention to me and asked, “Are you guys?”

  The non-hugging twin said, “Sure are. It’s our first college party, you know.” He winked at me and my alcohol addled brain was trying not to swoon.

  These kids were military-grade lethal.

  The arm around my shoulders gave me a quick squeeze. “You going to introduce us to your friends, Pretty Girl?”

  I gestured towards Viola and Micah. “That’s my best friend…well, my only friend, Viola Banks and her boyfriend, Micah Bentley.” I scanned the other faces of the group and I didn’t know not a one. “I don’t know who everyone else is,” I mumbled.

  “Awe, now,” Flanked Twin said, “she’s not your only friend, Shane. You’ve got us now.”

  I gave Viola a helpless look, but I almost snorted out a laugh at her expression. I knew I would have to do some serious explaining later. “Viola, Micah, I’d like you to meet…” I swiveled my head back and forth between them. I didn’t know who was which. I just knew their names like everyone else on campus did. One was named Michael, and one was named Gabriel.

  Arm Twin leaned into my ear and whispered, “Mason’s favorite color is blue, Aiden’s favorite color is orange, my favorite color is green, and Gabe’s favorite color is black.”

  I leaned my head back to look at him and said the first thing that popped into my head. “Who in the hell has the favorite color orange?”

  Gabriel (his shirt was black) threw his arms up, causing my head to turn, and he looked at me incredulously. “Right? I mean, who in the fuck likes orange as their favorite color?”

  It was a legit question.

  I blinked at him and finally snapped out my musings. “Viola, Micah, I’d like you to meet Michael and Gabriel Buchanan,” I said, gesturing to each of the guys as I said their names.

  Micah head nodded at them, while Viola was more vocal, “Nice to meet you both.”

  I could tell the rest of the group was put out that I hadn’t included them, but they weren’t too worried about including me before the twins arrived, so screw them.

  Wow…alcohol sure had a way of making a person grow a pair of balls.

  “Well, we’re off to mingle and make things right with the world,” Michael said, finally removing his arm from my shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you around, Shane.” He winked at me before he and Gabriel walked away.

  I downed the beer in my hand so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, and as soon as I heard the beat of Britney Spears’ Circus blare through the speakers, I grabbed Viola by the arm. “We’re going to go dance, Micah. Is that okay?”

  He smiled. “Sure, just as long as she’s dancing alone,” he stipulated, and I didn’t blame him. Viola was too stunning for words. However, Micah wasn’t a slouch in the looks department, either. He was touching an inch or so over six feet and his body was lean and cut to perfection. He had kind brown eyes, and he looked every bit the big, strong, confident Black male.

  He and Viola made a striking couple, and he was crazy about her. I couldn’t figure out what made her hesitant about making it official with him.

  I dragged Viola to the makeshift dance floor, but before I could let the music push my alcohol relaxed body into motion, she hissed, “What the fuck, Shane? How in the hell do you know the Buchanan Twins?”

  My expression dropped. “I’m sorry, Vi. I promise to tell you everything later, but can we just dance and forget all about the Buchanans for right now?” I implored her. “Please, pretty please?”

  Vivi studied me for a few seconds before conceding. “Fine, but you had better come clean tomorrow, young lady,” she scolded.

  “I promise,” I agreed. She finally smiled and started moving to the music.

  We danced for a couple of songs before Micah couldn’t take Viola’s tantalizing moves any longer. I let my body sway to the music as I watched him come up behind her and take his rightful place next to her. His hands fell onto her hips and his body moved in time with hers like they’d been dancing together all their lives. God, they looked so perfect together.

  I suddenly felt envious of her connection to him.

  I didn’t know what it felt to be so in sync with another human being that actions and words weren’t necessary. I imagine that level of comfort must feel so soothing.

  The fast beat of Rhianna’s Rude Boy segued into the slower, more sensual sounds of Katy Perry’s E.T. and I knew I needed to get off the dance floor. I had no problem swaying my body to the sounds of lively, upbeat music, but I was out of my element when it came to slow dancing or anything sexual.

  I was about to make my great escape when suddenly I felt a pair of masculine hands encase my hips. My entire body jerked, and I swung around to see who on earth would ever approach me to dance. I mean, except for Satan’s Evil Twins, Viola and Micah were the only people at this entire party who even knew my name.

  Who in the hell would want to dance with me?

  I had to drop my head back to get a look at the guy, since he was dwarfing my 5’2”, and when my gaze finally landed on his, I was staring into a pair of bright, blue eyes. Once my eyes processed the rest of his face, I realized the hands on my hips belonged to Branson Morgan and my steps faltered.

  Why in the hell would Branson Morgan want to dance with me?

  Holy Bejesus Jesus!

  He smirked down at me, never removing his hands from my hips. “Looking good out there, Shane. Do you mind if I join you?” he asked.

  Shane? He knew my name.

  Branson Morgan knew my effin’ name!!

  My alcohol fueled brain slipped into action. “Why? I…I mean…why would you want to dance with me?” I asked, befuddled.

  Branson was good-looking guy. He could pick any girl to dance with at this party. Why me?

  This time his lips curled into a full-blown smile. “Because you’re hot as hell and this is the first party I’ve ever seen you at.” I blinked up at him as he spoke. “You ignore everyone during class and so if this is my one chance to get you slipping and sliding under me, then I’m going to take it,” he answered, boldly.

  Slipping and sliding under him??

  Oh damn.

  Chapter 8

  Mason~

  Three beers down and Aiden and I were about as relaxed as we would allow ourselves to be at these sorts of parties. With social media recording and immortalizing everything a person did on the internet for life, we tried to be as careful as possible.

  None of us kids wanted to be on the receiving end of a phone call from our dad about something stupid that may have been captured on film, ending up all over the place.

  I knew now wasn’t the time or place, but the fanfare had become super ridiculous. I turned to Aiden and said, “You know next year, it�
��s going to be you in charge of the twins, right?”

  He smirked at me. “I’m very aware,” he acknowledged. “Don’t worry, Mase, they’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” I let out a deep breath. I knew he was right. “The twins aren’t like other 18-year-olds, Mason. Hell, none of us are like other people our age.” He clapped me on my back. “By the time you graduate, college will have lost its shine for the guys and it’ll be like high school all over again.”

  I gave him a pointed look. “I know, but some of these bitches are professionals, Aid. I mean, Dad’s a world class prick and everything, but he’s not wrong about some of these women,” I reminded him.

  “True,” he agreed, “but the twins have been dodging gold digging bitches since they were 14 years old, Mase. They know the score.”

  “It’s those goddamn dimples,” I chuckled.

  Aiden laughed. “Yeah, it must be, because it can’t be their sunny personalities.”

  Gabriel and Michael didn’t mean to be, but they were a deceitful duo.

  People took one look at them and made up all kinds of assumptions based on their looks and the way they played off one another, but they were almost always wrong about the twins. People liked to believe that since they were the youngest that they were spoiled and flighty.

  They weren’t.

  Gabe and Mike were sharp, assessing and analytical, and just when someone thought they were getting over on them, the twins would show their teeth and the bite was often swift and brutal.

  Especially, Michael’s bite.

  I figured I must just still be annoyed by my earlier encounter with Amber. Sometimes it felt like we were being attacked from all sides. If it wasn’t our mother’s neglect, it was our father’s abuse. If it wasn’t random guys trying to be our best friends, it was random bitches trying to trap us. If it wasn’t someone kissing our asses for future favors, it was someone hating us without even knowing us.

  Someone always wanted something from us and the constant need to keep my guard up for myself and my brothers became exhausting at times.