TYSON CAINE: Book 1 in the Brothers in Arms Series (Brothers in Arms Book 1) by Aleya Michelle Read Free Book Online Page A

around, and I can just envision a smashed window.
    Not the way Chad envisioned having a few friends over.
    ****

    I’m feeling insanely relieved it’s Friday night—with dance rehearsals and studying, it’s been a busy, draining week. I’m feeling exhausted physically from dancing and mentally from studying for exams. I haven’t been sleeping the best either. Waking up in a sweat thinking about a certain someone is not a great way to start the day.
    “Have just a couple of drinks with me, Brooke,” Cassie pleads as she hands me a bottle. I eagerly retrieve it and take a sip. I can’t say no to a wine cooler. I’m feeling lightheaded and giggly already.
    “It’s so good, Cas,” I say as I take another few sips.
    I wasn’t intending on drinking, but something about Cassie and her persuasions always get me. Plus, it tastes so damn good—it’s crisp and refreshing as the bubbles hit my palate. It is hard to stop. Dad would be fuming mad if he found out I’ve had alcohol, so I won’t have any more. Adding extra stress to him is not something that I want to do.
    Tyson and the boys are playing pool. Chad’s father spent a ton of money on his man cave. The pool table is brand new, the bar is fully stocked, and his top of the line stereo system is blaring. A few of us are dancing. The tiled floor in here is perfect to use as a dance floor. Rihanna is playing as I sway and become lost in the lyrics.
    I risk a glance over to see who is winning so far. I notice Tyler is nowhere in sight; I’m sure he is probably getting into trouble in town. It's Tyson’s shot, so I watch as he grabs the pool cue and I can’t help but take in every inch of him. It’s a warm summer’s night, and he is wearing a white wife beater. It’s showing off his muscles, and his biceps are so hard and bulging. His singlet is clinging to his chest, and I can see his washboard abs imprinted underneath. His jeans encase his tight butt perfectly, giving me a great view of his ass. I imagine squeezing it. Shit. This drink has definitely intensified my feelings and the lust I feel for him.
    As if he can feel my eyes on him, he turns and gives me a wink, then takes the shot and wins the game. I roll my eyes since it’s typical Tyson—he is ridiculously good at everything. Yeah, sure, Tyler has a lot more muscle; it’s ridiculous, really, that a sixteen-year-old can have that amount of muscle. The age gap between the two of them is only eleven months, yet Tyler could be on steroids he is that well-built.
    “In my Head” by Jason Derulo comes on, and I shift all of my focus onto the dance floor. Especially after a few drinks, I feel my body go wild to the beat. My hips were made to dance, and the black top I bought the other night really doesn’t leave much to the imagination, what with my denim skirt rising up my legs.
    I zone out and dance, forgetting about school, dance rehearsal, and the real world that keeps getting in the way of my being a carefree teenager. I’m shocked when I feel two hands around my waist. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I assume it's Tyson. Dancing isn’t really his thing, but I’m flattered he would try for me. I keep dancing with my eyes closed. But then I feel the guy’s body glide much closer. Too close. I open my eyes and see Cassie is shaking her head. I turn and see it isn’t Tyson after all. It’s fucking Sean Randall . He is the quarterback for our rival high school’s team and a well-known douchebag.
    “Get your hands off me!” I shout angrily pushing him away.
    “Easy, sugar, you were enjoying it a minute ago,” he states in his cocky demeanor.
    “That was until I saw it was you, and then it became repulsive,” I say. He looks pissed . I don’t think he gets rejected often, or ever for that matter.
    “I bet you’d be a cougar in the sack,” he says, licking his lips. I want to deck the guy so badly.
    “Not with you, not ever, so go back to whatever pit you climbed out of,