Huh. I know for a fact Trixie hardly has two dimes to rub together. Her father used to be wealthy, as in past tense. And my father is still very much wealthy,beyondwealthy, but I swore to myself I wouldn’t be one of those girls who runs to Daddy to solve all her financial problems. No way am I going to sit at home letting my bottom get flat as a pancake while my dad fuels my bonbon addiction. And it’s becoming clear Lucky is hoping for a little of my father’s green lettuce cha-ching.
“Prescott Hall, huh?” I scowl in the direction of the front door—the very direction I’m hoping Serena scuttled off to. Serena and her roommate, Harley, are in the aforementioned rival dorm. “Serena is in Prescott.” I blink a dry smile. “Andluckyfor you”—I lay the appropriate emphasis on her name and she winks—“the two of us happen to be competitive to a fault. Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure Trixie and I come up with enough money that we make Prescott’s offerings look like change at the bottom of a three-year-old’s piggybank.”
“All right.” She slaps me five. “Let me know what the two of you decide to donate, and I’ll turn the numbers in to the Student Union. Remember, it’s all for a great cause! The homeless shelter in Jepson is in dire need of whatever we can givethem.”
“A great cause indeed!” I shout after her as she bounds back into thecrowd.
The music pumps ten times louder, and the bodies only seem to grow thicker. It’s so hot I wish I could peel off this sweater. And why the heck are my jeans suddenly so tight? I feel like a stuffed sausage in them. Why couldn’t I have worn a cute little dress like some of the other girls? It’s as if I insist on covering myself from the neck down. Maybe Serena is right. I’m too much of a good girl to get into any real trouble. And how are Trixie and I going to come up with any real money to set Cutler above Prescott in the holiday fundraiser? Whatever the means, we’ll have to do it. The last thing I want is Serena lording her stomping grounds over mine. And then it hitsme.
Hello? I’ll just sic my followers on this. For the last three years, I’ve built a mini beauty empire by way of vlogging. At first, it was just something fun to do from my bedroom—to Serena’s point, it was the only fun I was having on a Friday night. But as time went on, I discovered I was pretty good at it, and one follower turned into ten, and before I knew it my numbers blossomed into seven hundred fifty thousand. Yes, it’s safe to say I’ve succeeded in that respect. I mean, I’m not the biggest name on YouTube out there, but I’m big enough for major cosmetic corporations to send me enough full-sized freebies to make any makeup counter at either Ulta or Sephora green with jealousy. And I always give those companies what they want—lots of beaming reviews. It’s easy to do, because if my mother instilled anything in me, it’s to see the bright side of every situation, and I can always find the good in any product sent my way. As for the charity race, I’ll simply shoot a quick video from right here in the frat house and upload it to my channel. I’ll do a small donation per view. That way I won’t go broke, but it’ll still be a decent amount, probably up to a thousand bucks. I get tons of views when I do a full makeup review or tutorial, but I’ve found when I just pop in for a quick hello, my legion of followers suddenly decide to ghost me. And secretly, I’m counting on almost each and every one of them to give up theghost.
I don’t hesitate in pulling out my phone and starting up thecamera.
“Hey, bellas! It’s me, Sunday Knight, and I’m hanging with the bad boys tonight.” I give a cheeky wink. “I’m raising money for the homeless shelter in downtown Jepson, so between now and—Sundaynight, I’ll give a quarter for each view. Peace out and God bless! Stay tuned next Monday for our annual Twelve Days of Lipstick! I’ll give you a hint of what’s hot—take those colors off because you and I both know we look better in the nude.Ciao, bellas!” And it’s a wrap. I quickly upload it and tuck my phone back into mypocket.
I take in a soothing breath as I give a quick look around. Somewhere in this room is my Mister Right Now, and I’m about to find him. I take a sip of the toxic brew in the Solo Serena gifted me and gag as soon as the noxious poison hits the back of mythroat.
“Here she is,” a male voice strums from behind, and I turn expectantly, only to be deflated by the fact it’s just Seth. My heart thumps unnaturally as it usually does when he catches me off guard. Seth’s arresting features have been sending hearts a thumping all over Whitney Briggs University this past year. Not that I expected anything different. When I first met Seth, I was immediately smitten by his dark wavy hair and those deep navy eyes. And just as I began to fall hard, my brothers stepped in and put the kibosh on that good time. Seth’s sister, Misty, is marrying my brother, Nolan, in three and a half weeks, New Year’s Eve to be exact. Years ago, when Misty and Nolan started dating, both Rush and Nolan made it clear that Seth was off-limits. And as angry as I was at the time, I eventually reconciled with the idea. My family is very close—sans my father—and Misty has always felt like family, so anything between Seth and me would be beyond weird, bordering on incestuous. Even though Nolan and Misty had a breakup that lasted several years, I still considered her a relative of sorts—a distant relative, but nevertheless, the two of them are back on and so is the wedding. Therefore, the stunning male specimen before me is relegated to an annoying older brother—something I seem to have no shortageof.
“Go away.” I turn back to the crowd and spot Eli Gates standing with Lawson and Grant, a couple of my brother’s friends. I’m pretty sure I should steer clear from anyone who remotely knows my brother, but since Rush is sort of a big man on campus that would be impossible to do. Besides, it’s not my fault he has a bevy of sizzling hot friends who have the ability to crane the necks of both the young and the old. And Eli Gates definitely fits the bill with his jet-black hair and dazzling smile that seems to have a hypnotic effect on the masses. That blue-checkered flannel he’s wearing sets off his eyes like glowingbeacons.
“Who are you looking for?” Seth tips his head back and glowers at his friends from across theroom.
“I’m not looking for anyone in particular.” I bite down on my lip, trying to envision myself behind locked doors with Eli. He’s handsome, classically so with a straight Roman nose, dark hair that offsets his bright eyes, and he always seems to have that particular dazzling smile for anyone coming his way. Maybe he’s too friendly? I mean, he does have a reputation. Do I really want to get busy with someone who has a reputation for doing just that with everyone on campus? Then again, I’m not too sure if rumor equalsreality.
“Are you checking out Eli?” Seth sounds affronted by the idea, and I can’t help but scoff my way past him. Honestly, having Seth in my airspace really is just as bad as being tied to one of mybrothers.
“Maybe, maybe it was the cute frat boy behind him or the dozen or so to my left or right.” I take another swig of the battery acid in my cup and give a mean shudder as it saws its way down my throat. “I’m in it for the long haultonight.”
“Whoa.” Seth inches back. “You got some high-octane fuel there. You keep chugging that stuff and you won’t remember thenight.”
“Believe me, I plan to keep chugging. And I plan on keeping this tiny red barrel of fun to the brim.” I raise the cup between us and accidently graze his rock-hard chest. Seth is on the basketball team here at Briggs—he’s been on any and every basketball team since the day we met. Nolan used to take me to his games way back when he was still trying to impress Misty. In that regard, it feels as if Seth and I have practically grown up together. Only I’ve never really seen him as a brother. Most likely because I’m filled to thebrimwith those high-octane creatures to begin with. “I’m determined to have a good time, and rule number one explicitly states loosen the heckup.”
He gives a dark laugh, his lids slit low, and my stomach does that annoying bounce he always seems to elicit. “You’re cute.” The smile dissipates from his face. “But I don’tapprove.”
“Ha!” I laugh right in his face, or at least as close as I dare to get. God knows I’ve had my fair share of whiskey, and if I get a little too close, my lips might be tempted to fall over his, ending that whole Seth Baker embargo. “As if I needed or cared about your approval. You’re not my brother, Seth.” I move past him, and he followsalong.
“That’s right. I’m your friend. And as your friend, I’m hugely suggesting you try to have a good time sober. It works, Ipromise.”
My gaze flits right to Eli Gates with that dark hair and chest the size of the front door. “My God, all that muscle mass could easily crush me if he landed on top ofme.”
“What, you can’t be serious. Eli?” Seth sounds as if he’s about to have an aneurysm, and I spin around on the heel of my stiletto. “He’s not getting on top of you. No way, nohow.”
“Would youshush! Relax. He’s not getting on top ofyou.” I bring my finger to my lips and fight the urge to smack him in the process. “If you’re really my friend, you’ll cheer me on in my endeavors.” I smack him over the shoulder three times fast. “You can’t be negative or you’ll ruin mymojo.”
“What the hell is mojo and why do you needit?”
I take a deep breath and look back to Eli, trying my hardest to feel an inkling of wanting, a spark of anything—at this point, I’d take heartburn. “Eli will do. He’s handsome, all right, but for some reason I don’t get those butterfly jitters the way you read about in romance novels—then again, those are works of fiction and this is real life. Most people probably never even experience butterflies. More like bats,” I pant as I stare at the six foot three wall of testosterone demanding that my ovaries pop. “Eli is on both the basketball teamandthe football team. Not to mention the fact he’s rumored to be good in bed. He’s basically a real-life triple threat—right here at WhitneyBriggs.”
Seth grunts as he rakes his hair back in an aggressive manner. “Sunday, I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking about doing, but let’s just take a few steps back. If you want someone to hang out with and have a good time—I volunteer. I’ll take one for the team and make sure you land back in your bed all by your lonesome. I’m not letting you near that guytonight.”
I make a beeline to the refreshment table, and Seth cuts me off at the pass. Just as I’m about to snap up a couple of Solos and bolt into the crowd, Seth grabs me by the shoulders and navigates us to the back of the room where an entire slew of beer pong tables sit in various levels of slovenliness. “Right there, you and me. I promise you’ll have a good time, and you won’t get any communicable diseases out of thedeal.”
“Ugh, I hate beer pong. It’s the epitome of college life”—Serena’s voice filters through my mind like an echo, and I can hear her voice chime out the wordboringon a loop—“in other words, the perfect way to end my night.” Great. I’ll get feasibly wasted, find Eli, then lock him in a room. I’m sure he’ll know what to do fromthere.
Seth fills a pitcher before emptying it into twelve cups lined up on either side until he’s formed twopyramids.
“Prison rules—no teams, just you and me.” A devilish grin climbs his face, and a bite of heat goes off in the pit of my stomach. “Stand at opposite sides of the table. Any cup you get the ball in, I drink and vice versa. You bounce the ball and miss, you drink two. We’ll keep going until you’re having such a good time you puke. The beer is on tap, and we are dangerously within refill range. Let’s do it.” Seth tosses the ball toward my tiny pyramid of Solos and lands it in the fullest of themall.
