Randy gets into the limo and sits between two of the girls. This leaves the bench seat wide open for me. I slide in and stretch out, taking up the entire thing.

Lance already has his arm around Flash Beaver, and her friend in the middle seems like she’s not sure what to do. When she makes a move to sit with me, Lance hugs her to his side and whispers something in her ear. Her eyes widen, and she bites her lip, but she stays where she is.

Going home in a cab by myself would’ve been the smarter move. Then I wouldn’t be facing unnecessary temptation. Sometimes it’s hard as fuck to make the right choices, like removing myself from a situation in which bunnies will inevitably offer up pussy that I’ll have to turn down.

It’s not that I can’t go without. I’ve just been choosing the alternative for the past five years. And quitting cold turkey has been way more difficult than I ever expected. Lance and Flash Beaver have turned toward the corner of the limo now. I’m pretty sure he’s got his hand up her skirt already, judging by the giggle followed by a moan. I close my eyes and lean against the armrest. I’m tired. And hungry. I need pizza.

I root around in my pocket for my phone. I have messages: a couple of texts and a voice mail from my sister, Violet, and a few more from my girlfriend, Sunny. Well, she’s kinda my girlfriend. I want her to be my girlfriend. Sunny’s the reason Randy—or maybe Lance—is taking one for the team, and I’m sitting over here by myself.

I’ve been doing everything I can to move things in the girlfriend direction for the last few months, but Sunny’s hard to pin down. Way worse than me, but not in a slutty way. Sunny’s the opposite of slutty. She’s not as easily charmed by me as most women. I actually have to work to get her to date me.

It doesn’t help that her brother, Alex Waters, is one of my teammates. He’s also engaged to my sister, and he’s captain of the team. Waters hates me. It’s complicated. The first night I met Sunny, I considered—for half a second—sleeping with her to get back at him. I’m a player, not an asshole. Besides Sunny wasn’t interested in getting naked with me. She actually wanted to talk. And I liked her. So I got her number instead. That was months ago. She still won’t sleep with me. Yet. I’m hoping to change that soon.

I try to read my text messages, but my vision is blurry, and the words all jumble together—even worse than usual. I can’t use the text-to-speech app in here like I normally would because the music’s too loud and everyone will hear my business. Plus sometimes my sister’s messages are assholey. She has no filter. At all.

“I’m hungry. Anyone else hungry?” I yell over the music.

Lance is too busy sucking face, but Randy raises his hand. The girls on either side of him shrug. The one stuck in the middle of everything looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

I pull up Siri and ask her to call my favorite pizza joint. It takes a few tries to get her to do what I want, partly because I’m slurring my words and partly because the music interferes. Finally someone turns it down so I’m able to put an order in.

“Is the address five-two-one or two-five-one?” I ask Randy when they get to that part of the ordering process.

“Five-two-one.”

“You’re sure it’s not two-five-one?”

Lance takes a break from sucking the chick’s face off to get on my case. “You’ve been at my house a million times, and you still can’t get the address right?”

I flip him the bird. “I’m dyslexic and drunk, but thanks for being an asshole about it.” I probably shouldn’t have said that. It’s not something I usually talk about in front of bunnies. It’s frustrating to be twenty-three and shitty at reading. I give the pizza guy the right address. Then I end the call and slip my phone back into my pocket.

Ten minutes later, we pull into Lance’s driveway. I’m the first out of the car, and I practically fall up the steps to his door. I use the doorjamb for support while I wait for everyone else. I should know the code to get into the house, but I always forget it.

Lance and Flash Beaver are last to get out of the limo. True to her name, she gives us all a beaver shot—my second of the limo trip—as she slides across the bench. When her feet hit the ground, Lance steps in front of her, blocking her from view. He leans down to adjust her skirt, which is nice. When he’s in a mood, he’ll let girls makes fools out of themselves and laugh about it later. He can be a dick sometimes.

Her friends are giggling and whispering, being bitchy and judgy. Well, the one who was sidled up to Randy is; the other one looks uncomfortable. Of the three girls Randy and Lance picked up tonight, she seems the most reserved. Maybe she’s not all that excited about sharing a dick.

“You’re the best, man. Have I told you that lately?” I ask Randy, while I rest my head on the closed door and attempt to hit the doorbell. I keep missing it.

“That’s what the girls tell me.”

I scoff and aim for the doorbell again, hitting it this time. The tone is actually a line from a movie. I can’t quite remember which one, but it’s funny, so I keep punching it until Lance and Flash Beaver finally make it to the door.

Lance keys in the code. “I don’t think that’s a good place to stand, Butterson.”

“I’m fine.” My eyes are closed. I’m feeling like bed might be a nice place to be. Screw the pizza.

His meaning doesn’t register until the door gives way. I put my hands up to grab for the jambs, but I’m not quick enough. I fall face first into his front foyer. The hardwood floor doesn’t make it a soft landing.

I grunt on impact, and one of the girls rushes over to help me while Lance laughs his ass off. I tell her I’m fine and lie there for a few seconds before I roll over onto my back. Flash Beaver gets me again. I can see right up her skirt from the floor. It’s like a loose meat sandwich up in there. I’ve seen more beaver in the last thirty minutes than I have since I started trying to date Sunny.

Randy puts a hand out to help me up.

I wave him off. “I’ll stay here until the pizza arrives, yeah?”

“That could take a while. Let’s get you a couch.” I take his hand, but make no effort to help with the whole standing-up business. When he’s about to give up, I yank his arm and he ends up on the floor with me. I put him in a headlock.

He scrambles to get out, but he’s drunk too, and I have the element of surprise. “Fuck you, asshole,” he tells me.

“Oh my God!” One of the girls screams while we wrestle on the floor like idiots. “Are they seriously fighting? Shouldn’t you stop them?”

“They’re fine.” Lance puts a hand on two of the ladies’ lower backs. “Come on. Let’s get some drinks and hit the hot tub.”

Randy elbows me in the side, and I let him go. He rolls over and pops up, weaving as he follows Lance and the bunnies. It’s a lot of work to get my ass off the floor, but I manage. I slide-walk down the hall with my shoulder against the wall to stop from falling over again.

I need water—and that horrible drink my trainer, Natasha, gives me when I’m hungover. But Lance’s kitchen is way far away. I stumble into the massive living room and over to the unoccupied couch. When my knees hit the arm, I fall forward like a tree. My aim is bad, and I’m on an angle, so I roll off and smack my head on the coffee table.

“Ow! Fuck!” There isn’t enough space for me to turn onto my back, so I lie there instead, wedged between the couch and the coffee table.

Lance laughs. “You all right, Butterson?”

“There’s a spent condom under here.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna get that for me.”

“Pretty sure I don’t.” It’s covered in dust, but I can tell it’s red—so he definitely got it from me. Or maybe I’m the one who used it. I have no idea. I always order the assorted rainbow pack that comes with the big container of lube.