The Reckless Collision

Chapter Fifty-One

"So, you know how you said we could bring a plus-one to the party?" he began, rubbing the back of his neck—a telltale sign he was nervous. I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"Well... someone's coming with me. He'll be here later." Logan avoided my gaze as I arched an eyebrow. A grin spread across my face. "Don't get any ideas," he said quickly, glaring at me.

"What?" I asked, holding up my hands in mock innocence. "You rarely bring anyone, let alone someone special. I'm just happy for you."

"Right," he muttered, munching on another chip. "You won't be so happy when you find out who it is."

"And who might that be?" I asked, picking up the tray and heading toward the living room.

"Hey!" Logan shouted, following me.

"Relax," I said over my shoulder. "I'm setting this up now so you don't gorge on snacks and end up puking before the pizza gets here."

"Puking pizza is better than nothing," Logan shot back, plopping onto the U-shaped couch. I set the tray on the coffee table and slid it just out of his reach, grinning as he huffed in protest. "Fine," he said, leaning back against the cushions.

"So," I prompted, sinking into the couch beside him. "Who's coming?"

"Rory," Logan said, his voice low as he rubbed his palms together, elbows resting on his knees.

"You're kidding, right?" I stared at him, hoping he'd crack a smile and say it was a bad joke.

"No," he said, a deep crease forming on his forehead. "We bumped into each other and... we've been hanging out a lot."

"Logan, it's Rory." My voice sharpened. "He's like a sworn enemy to Sam and Molly. I wanted a drama-free evening."

Logan sighed, clearly expecting my reaction. "I'm well aware of the history, but they're technically part of the same friend group, so I thought it'd be fine."

"There is no group anymore. That group fell apart after Scott." I leaned forward, trying to drive the point home. "When I met Rory, all he talked about was collaborations and other nonsense." I narrowed my eyes. "Please don't tell me you agreed to anything."

"No, no," Logan reassured me quickly, holding up his hands. "He didn't bring that up. When was this, at a party?"

"No. It was after a party, at a club, when Sam and I went out." I crossed my arms, watching Logan's expression tightened. "He's looking for a way to use you."

Logan raised a dark brow, his lips curling into a wry smile. "What, no one could possibly just like me for me?"

"Nope." I popped a nut into my mouth and chewed, enjoying the exasperation flickering across his face.

"Okay, I'm sorry." Logan's tone softened. "Maybe your first impression of him wasn't great, but trust me—he's a good guy. You just need to get to know him."

"Don't wanna," I said flatly, tossing another nut into my mouth.

Logan groaned. "James is bringing Chloe, and you don't seem to mind her. If you're fine with her, you shouldn't care about Rory."

I choked on the nut, coughing as my throat tightened. "He's bringing Chloe?"

Logan's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you knew."

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang, cutting through the tension. I rose, fuming, and made my way toward the door. All I wanted was a calm evening—more of a laid-back hangout with snacks, drinks, and maybe a movie. Instead, it seemed like this party was shaping up to be a circus.

I swung the door open, instantly feeling some relief when I saw Andrew standing there alone, grinning.

"Nice hair," he said, handing me a bottle of The Macallan as he stepped inside.

"Thanks," I said, raising the bottle appreciatively. "And thanks for this I will need it."

Andrew's grin faltered as he studied my face. "What's wrong?"

I gestured toward the living room. "I'll let Logan explain."

Andrew followed me into the house, his voice loud enough to carry as he called out, "So, what's up?"

"Apparently, James didn't tell Ray about his plus-one," Logan said from the couch, casting a glance my way.

"And?" Andrew prompted, sitting down and leaning forward with interest.

"And I invited Rory," Logan said, rolling his eyes as if I was the one being unreasonable.

Andrew frowned. "I knew about Chloe—James can't shut up about her. But who's Rory?"

"Scott's friend," I said as I poured whiskey into three glasses.

"And you thought that was a good idea, why?" Andrew addressed Logan, taking a glass from me.

"He's also friends with Sam and Molly," Logan said defensively.

"Not really," I muttered as the doorbell rang again. "Guys, get that. I'm going to check on the girls." I didn't wait for a response, pouring the rest of my drink down my throat before heading upstairs.

The faint sound of voices from the living room faded as I climbed the stairs. By the time I reached the bedroom door, I could hear the soft hum of Daydreaming playing from inside.

Sam always had Purple Rain songs on rotation, even after we started dating. At first, it made me feel awkward—hearing my own band's lyrics in her playlists—but over time, I got used to it. She'd insisted she wasn't going to stop listening to her favorite songs just because we were together, and honestly, it had grown on me.

The familiar scent of coconut greeted me as I opened the door. Sam was sitting by the window while Molly hovered over her, putting on the finishing touches. Molly straightened when she noticed me.

"All done," she said with a satisfied smile.

"Hey," I said, hesitating by the door. "Just wanted to let you know almost everyone's here."

"We heard the doorbells," Sam said, standing up.

My eyes swept over her, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. The dress she'd picked out hugged her perfectly, and her makeup—a soft brown on her eyes and a bold burgundy on her lips—only made her look more stunning.

"You look gorgeous, love," I said, my voice low and rough. As she stepped closer, I felt a strong urge to pull her into my arms and forget everyone downstairs.

"Ahem." Molly's exaggerated throat-clearing snapped me out of it.

"You look beautiful too," I added quickly, grinning at Molly as I wrapped my arms around Sam's waist. A faint doorbell chime sounded again from below.

"Let's move before you two start some extracurriculars and ruin her hair and makeup," Molly said, heading for the door.

We followed her downstairs, the growing buzz of chatter and music filling the house. Reaching the living room, my stomach dropped when I spotted her.

What the fuck is she doing here? I closed my eyes briefly, cursing under my breath. Of all people, she was the last person I wanted to see tonight.