Too Much : Hayes Brothers Book 1

THE UPTIGHT, SOPHISTICATED PARTY morphs into a wild banger. People dance on every flat surface, and most girls are no longer in their dresses. Half of the guys are shirtless, flexing their pecs like peacocks rattling their tails, and letting women scribble random lines across their chests.

I scan the crowd of faces, spotting a few cocky assholes who will be kept a safe distance from Thalia by her bodyguard, namely me. I look around again, hoping Jasmine will take a hint and leave me alone if I ignore her chatter long enough.

She’s not that perceptive, though, which is odd since she’s Nico’s assistant. Attention to detail and spotting deviations in a pattern is in her job description. She’s the administrator for all moves my brother makes with my money, and she has too much to say about said moves as if she knows better and should be the one to manage my portfolio.

It takes a while, but her girlfriend saves the day ten minutes later, hauling Jasmine to the bar.

A tall brunette in a skimpy bikini grabs my arm next. “Hey, handsome,” she chirps, her eyes hooded, pupils blown as she presses herself to my side. “I think you need to relax.”

“And I think you need a cup of coffee.”

She giggles, running her fingers up and down my chest. “I’d rather have a mouthful of your dick.”

A month ago, after hearing that line, I would’ve dragged her inside to give her exactly what she wanted and then some. Tonight, the idea of driving my cock inside a random chick turns my stomach.

I take her wrist and push her back to stop her boobs from rubbing against my arm. “Wrong guy, sweetheart. Find one who’s interested.”

A child-like pout turns her lips, and she flaunts the boobs in my face again as if to taunt me. “What? Am I not pretty enough for you, Mr. Hayes?”

Of course, she knows who I am. Being the mayor’s son with six brothers, three of which are identical triplets, means everyone in this city knows who the Hayes are, what we do, and what we look like.

“You’re not sober enough for me,” I shoot back, scanning the crowd again, searching for Thalia.

My hands clench into fists when I spot her chatting to Dean. She glares straight at me, then moves her eyes to the brunette beside me, her features pinched.

Angry, are you? You and me both, omorfiá.

“Did you hear me?” The girl clinging to my arm reaches for my beer, purposely brushing her fingers along my chest. “I’ll suck you off real good, and I won’t try to call you.”

“Beat it,” I hiss and walk away, heading to the seating area under the terrace.

Dean looks at me, eyes focused. A smug smile slips for a moment when we exchange glances as if it’s a game, and the first one who talks, loses. He sits with Thalia on the eight-seater halfmoon couch, one arm sprawled over the back, legs far apart, a king-of-the-world attitude in full view. It hardly changes when I approach.

“There you are.” I lean over the back, pressing my lips to the crown of Thalia’s head. She tenses, her head whipping around so fast I swear I heard a crack. I play it down, even though the slight rise of her eyebrow puts a self-indulgent smirk on my face. “It’s our turn to play pong.”

Dean shifts in his seat, drumming his fingers on his knee for a second before raking them through his hair, ruffling it up as if he’s unsure what to do with himself.

I pin him down with a pointed look that loosely translates to: back off, dude or I’ll do good on the threat I never voiced, and remove your hands from your body.

“Oh, okay.” Thalia plasters an apologetic smile onto her lips, glancing at Dean. “Sorry, I won’t be long.”

Yeah, right. She’s not coming back to this asshole.

I lead her away, silently stewing. “What are you doing with him?” I ask when we’re out of his earshot.

“You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

I can’t help the arrogant, desolate satisfaction spreading in my bones at the irritated tone of her voice.

She’s jealous.

Good. So am I.

So fucking jealous I want to nail Dean for good measure.

“I wasn’t busy. I could’ve used saving from Jasmine. She’s Nico’s assistant, and she’s pretty determined to manage my money.” I point at the pool. “That’s her girlfriend.”

Thalia’s cheeks heat to the faintest shade of pink when I lace our fingers. “You’re very confusing, Theo.”

“No. I’m careful.”

I’m a liar. I am confusing. Her and myself. I’m undecided. A pendulum going back and forth between wanting her in my bed, not wanting to hurt her, wanting her to be mine, and not wanting to lose her.

“Hey, man!” Adrian, one of Nico’s buddies’ cheers, swaying on his feet as he saunters toward us. He looks like he could do with a cup of coffee to sober up too. He steps in our way, staring at Thalia. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hey, man. I didn’t expect you here.” Leave. “This is Thalia.” Stay away from her, or I’ll maim you.

“You’re the new cart girl!” he booms. “Nico told me about you. Now that I’ve seen you, I might start golfing.” He laughs the same way all drunk people do, the sound like needles in my eardrums. “Can I get you a drink?”

“She’s got a drink,” I say, then swear under my breath because she actually doesn’t.

Nico approaches, stopping Adrian from asking another question. He shakes his hand, glaring at me, jaw set tight. “Come on, I need you.”

“I’ll be right back. Go find Shawn and Jack,” I tell Thalia before following my brother. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, tugging from his bottle. “You looked like you needed an out.”

“I didn’t, but you might want to tell your buddy to back the fuck away from Thalia.”

Nico cocks an eyebrow, peeking over his shoulder to where his friend still talks to her, unleashing his charm. “You like her, don’t you?”

“Don’t be stupid. I told you we’re friends. I’m looking out for her. We both know Adrian just wants to fuck her, and she’s better than that.”

“She’s smart, Theo,” he says in a school principal’s voice. “Don’t act all big-brother. She can take care of herself.”

I glance in Thalia’s direction a moment later, but she’s gone and nowhere to be seen. Shawn and Jack play beer pong versing Jasmine and her girlfriend, but no sign of Thalia there, either. It’d be easier to keep my shit in check if she’d stay in plain sight.

Nico smirks. “Either chill out or make a move.”

“Make a move? We live together. I can’t sleep with her without it blowing up in my face.”

“Sex is all you want?” He shakes his head, entertained by the idea. “You’re full of shit, but have it your way. If you don’t want her, stop touching her all the time and chill out. If she wants to sleep with Adrian, you can’t stop her.”

I wave him off, annoyed because who the fuck made him the know-it-all? Thalia’s not mine. I’ve got no right to freak out, but the worry and possessiveness blooming in the pit of my stomach can’t be shaken.

Ten minutes later, I enter the house, hoping to find Thalia and Adrian. I also hope I won’t find them kissing because fuck knows what I’ll do then.

Nothing good for sure.

They’re not in the living room or in the kitchen, but I spot Thalia out front. She’s not with Adrian, though. She’s with Dean again. He’s smoking while she rests against my car, arms crossed over her chest.

Shawn enters the kitchen, rubbing his hands together, sporting a supersized shit-eating grin. “Nico said you need some sense knocked into you. What’s the deal, bro?”

The sly bastard.

I grind my teeth, pumping my fingers. “I’m good.”

Not good at all.

Why is she with Dean?

Shawn shakes his head, dismissing my words like you dismiss kids when they ask dumb questions. “What’s stopping you? You like Thalia, and she likes you too.”

Muscles in my back tense painfully. I grasp the counter with both hands, hanging my head low.

Why am I only perfectly comfortable when she’s close? Why does it feel like I’m wrestling the Hulk, trying to fight what I want? And why am I fighting it?

Because I’m scared, that’s why.

She’s funny, easy-going, smart, and compassionate. I’m in awe of her positivity, attitude, and confidence. She’s beautiful inside and out, and it scares me.

After holding her all night in my arms, I’m way past sex only. I want more. Much more, but I don’t want to lose her. What if we start dating and fall apart after a while? We won’t go back to being friends. We’ll be perfect strangers, and I don’t think I could stomach not having her around.

What if you don’t fall apart?

“She’s all I think about, Shawn, but what do I know about relationships? Nothing. I’m way out of my fucking comfort zone just thinking about it. I can’t make it work, bro. I’ll fuck up, hurt her, and lose her.”

“It’s not rocket science, Theo. You’ll figure it out.”

So, so helpful.

Maybe I will figure it out. Or maybe I won’t.

Decisions, decisions…

She’s still outside with Dean, and while I might not know what I want from her, I do know what I want for her, and Dean isn’t it.

I leave Shawn in the kitchen, yank the main door open, and down the concrete steps I go, glancing around the driveway, my chest heaving. She rests against my Camaro, arms folded over her busty chest, eyes narrowed at that asshole. I stop when Dean’s voice, as pleasant as a mosquito buzzing overhead at two in the morning, reaches my ears.

“You’re not being fair.” He kicks the gravel. “I’m trying to make amends. I keep thinking about you, but I also don’t want to waste my time, so before I make a bigger fool of myself, I’m going to ask you a question. What’s going on with you and Theo? He sure acts like you’re his.”

“I’m not,” Thalia clips, pushing a twelve-inch blade into my chest. “I told you, we’re just friends, but don’t make a fool out of yourself regardless. You and I won’t happen.”

“Good, good…” he mutters as if he hadn’t heard a word she said after admitting we’re just friends. “I know Theo, and he’s not the kind of guy I’d like to get in the way of..”

Good call, my friend.

“If you say you’re just friends, I believe you. Can I pick you up tomorrow? There’s a nice restaurant—”

“Dean, stop and listen to me, you’re a decent guy when you put your head into it, but I’m not interested anymore.”

“Thalia,” I interrupt when Dean opens his mouth again, the tone of my voice dripping with territoriality. “Come on, omorfiá. Shawn and Jack are waiting for us.”

They’re not, but I need to take her away from Dean before he gets too close and consequently forces my fist too close to his jaw or nose. Or both.

“I’ll be there in a second,” she tells me, probably wanting to make sure Dean understands she’s not interested. I’m one step away from explaining that to him nonverbally, but it’s probably best not to make a scene.

I should walk away. I should leave them to finish their conversation. Should. Could. Would.

Can’t.

Won’t.

No fucking way in hell.

I descend the remaining steps and crowd Thalia’s personal space, pulling her to my side caveman style. “I’m growing old here. Let’s play.”

Dean’s eyes zero in on my arm casually snaked around Thalia’s waist, his jaw working back and forth.

“I see,” he mutters, and then… he has the fucking audacity to kiss her cheek, marking his territory like I’m marking mine.

Thalia stills in my arms; the kiss not what she expected or wanted, I’m sure. Her lips are sealed as we watch Dean hop into his Porsche. The wheels spin fast when he performs an intentional burnout, sending the gravel flying around and bouncing off the Range Rover parked behind. He speeds down the long driveway, and tires squeal when the car springs onto the street, the rear end flying sideways before disappearing behind a bend.

I grab Thalia’s waist, pushing her against the side of my car. “I’ll break his hands if he ever touches you again.”

“Oh yeah?” She inches closer. A small smile curves her red lips. Lips that almost brush mine. “Bullshit. Are you this possessive over all your friends, or am I special somehow?”

I dig my fingers into her hips, my composure hanging by a thread, desire fizzing inside me, burning a hot hole in my stomach, hurling to the surface like bubbles in a champagne flute. “I’ve never had a friend who’s also a girl. You’re special in every way.”

“What an honor.” There’s an edge to her voice, a spiteful note accompanied by narrowed eyes.

I’m not ready to admit I know why she’s acting this way. “Come on, I need a drink.”