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having a conversation with Lana. He looked even sexier than usual with his hair all messed up, probably on purpose, and they both looked up when they heard me heading over.
    “There you are!” Lana said. “I just ran into your new bro. Did you know he’s going to be in some Australian magazine spread soon?”
    Lana and Cerie had been completely and utterly shocked when they’d found out the hot guy from the club was my old childhood friend and my new stepbrother, and since then they’d developed some sort of wildly romantic theory that it was fate. Unfortunately for them, I knew better. It wasn’t fate or destiny or whatever. It was simply bad luck.
    “No, I didn’t,” I said, throwing her a withering look that clearly said, ‘ Don’t be nice to him, he’s a prick.’
    She either didn’t notice my expression or chose to ignore it, and she grinned. “Drew isn’t doing anything tonight, so I invited him to the party. Is that okay, Soph?”
    Drew flashed me a dazzling smile, and I suddenly wanted to charge across the lawn and slap the stupid grin off his handsome face. I managed to suppress the urge, and I didn’t want to look like a massive bitch by saying no, so I gritted my teeth.
    “Sure. That’s fine.”
    “Cool. Let’s go, then!”
    Lana got into the driver’s seat of her Range Rover, and I was about to hop into the front passenger seat when she stopped me. “No, sit in the back with Drew. You don’t want him to be all alone back there, do you?”
    She was incorrigible. Drew smirked and held the back door open while doffing an imaginary cap, and I glared at him as I climbed in. He squeezed in beside me, and he murmured in my ear.
    “You look good. Although you’d look better without those clothes on.”
    “Shut up,” I hissed as Lana put some music on in the front.
    “Why? Am I making you…uncomfortable?” he murmured, sliding a hand over my knee.
    “Uncomfortable like a victim of the bubonic plague, yes,” I said, slapping his creeping hand away.
    “Are you an Egyptian crocodile?” he asked.
    I scoffed. “Very funny, but I’m not in denial. I just don’t want you. The only one who’s in denial here is you thinking you’re fooling anyone with that ridiculous messy hair look. No one actually believes you just woke up like that this morning.”
    “I did wake up like this.”
    “Sure.”
    He grinned and leaned even closer. “Say what you will, but my offer still stands.”
    “What offer?”
    “My offer to give you the best night of your life,” he said, stupid smirk still plastered to his face.
    “That was never an offer. Besides, what exactly would you do? Have a competition with your penis to see who can disappoint me the most?”
    His smile faded. “Whatever. Y’know, with that attitude, the only way you’re ever gonna get laid is if you crawl up a chicken’s ass and wait.”
    Prick. I’d finally run out of witty comebacks, and he’d had the last word.
    “Lana, can you turn the music up?” I called towards the front of the car, wanting to drown out any more of Drew’s bullshit. I simply hadn’t been born with enough middle fingers to accurately demonstrate my feelings for him.
    The party was in full swing when we arrived, and Drew quickly made himself at home, finding himself immediately swarmed by horny single girls. Of course. I rolled my eyes and followed Lana into the house to find Cerie, and on my way I was stopped by a familiar face – Cerie’s cousin and the host of the party, Andreas Jakobsen.
    Cerie’s mother was part Norwegian, and Andreas had actually been born and raised in Norway before moving here a few years ago at age fifteen. At six-foot one with a slim figure, blond hair and a never-ending supply of pastel cashmere sweaters, he was the most stereotypical Scandinavian gay guy I had ever met, and he was also one of the loveliest people I’d had the pleasure of knowing.
    He squealed when he saw me and hugged me before whispering conspiratorially in