As soon as we get off the van, though, I leave Isabel and the others in my dust, not caring how glaringly obvious it is that I don’t want to be near Jenna another minute. I’m most of the way back to Rumson when I feel a hand at my elbow.

“Where are you running?” Salem asks. “We’re literally walking to the same building.”

“Are we? I thought you might have plans at Hillman House.” Okay, my tone sounds way colder than he deserves, but in fairness, his girlfriend is way colder than I deserve.

Doesn’t matter; he’s barely listening anyway, engrossed in his phone. I can only assume he’s exchanging filthy texts with Jenna, which makes me want to pry it from his hands and toss it back into the woods we just came from.

“Brent and Jason are up for a quick game if you are,” he says, slipping it back in his pocket. “Pretty sure they think you were having beginner’s luck that first time.”

“How do you know I wasn’t?”

He shoots me a knowing look. “Come up in ten. And bring snacks.”

“Who says I have snacks?” I mutter as I head toward my room while he dashes up the stairs.

“You have snacks,” he calls back down.

He’s right, I do, but I don’t want the human trash receptacle that is Jason Hammond devouring my precious Skittles stash, so when I take a quick shower and throw on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, I grab a couple of bags of chips I lifted from the Beast instead.

The other guys aren’t there when I arrive, but Salem and Matt are, and Matt gives me a big bear hug when I enter, nearly smushing the chip bags. “What was that for?” I ask when I can finally breathe again.

He cracks a grin. “Izzy said you might need it after the woods.”

“What happened in the woods?” Salem asks.

I take a seat next to him at the table and pick up the deck of cards in front of him, shuffling idly. “Well, I learned you have a big dick, so congrats on that.”

Matt throws back his head and laughs as Salem mutters, “Jesus Christ, Evie.”

“What?” I ask innocently. “You should be proud. Jenna was definitely proud.”

“Please can we not talk about my dick?”

“If I had to hear about your dick, I think you should have to hear about your dick.”

“Do you want to talk about my dick?”

Fair question. “No, I really do not.”

“That’s what I thought. Now pass the chips.”

I rip open the bag, help myself to a nice, greasy handful, and hand it over.