Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
“Here’s your stupid phone. Turns out I’m not into dick pics.”
I rolled off him and fast-walked to the bathroom. I took a piss, willing my cock down, then flushed, hoping he thought I’d just had to take a leak.
When I came back out, he was scrolling on his phone, pretending nothing happened. I grabbed my laundry bag and walked down the hall, luckily finding one of the washers empty. I stood there for a long while, just processing.
Emil was on a video call with his parents when I returned—I could tell by his tone of voice—and to be honest, I was jealous of his easygoing relationship with them.
“Bruce says hi, by the way.” He smirked at me, then stuck out his tongue.
I could hear them saying hi back, which made me smile—out of relief or gratitude, I didn’t know which.
Pulling out my laptop, I checked my social media messages, then went to transfer my clothes to the dryer. When I got back, Emil was freshly showered and in his flamingo shirt.
“So you were serious about the bet?” I asked.
Emil straightened the hem of his shirt over his shorts. “Why, you afraid I’m gonna win?”
“Hell no! Bad shirt or not, my good looks and personality will stand on their own.”
“And if they don’t, you could always brag about being a football god or whatever the hell you call yourself.”
“True,” I admitted, and he rolled his eyes. “So, what are the stakes?”
“If I win, you have to do another facial with me.”
I groaned. “Fucking hell.”
“It’s not so bad to pamper yourself.”
“Okay, fine. If I win, you have to buy me a footlong sub from Sammy’s.” It was my favorite sandwich shop, rivaling the one I liked back home.
“You mean a hoagie?”
It was a Jersey thing and depended on what part of the state you hailed from. But for Emil and me, it was just another way to be competitive.
“Hoagie or sub, it’ll taste good going down.”
“If you win.” Emil put out his hand. “Deal.”
5
EMIL
The frat house was packed with partygoers as I arrived with Leah and Justin, the excitement of the new term in the air. Entrance required a donation of either cash or canned goods, which didn’t surprise us—the frat houses were always raising money for one thing or another. It helped counter their raucous reputation, mostly in the parents’ eyes.
Justin’s gaze immediately flashed to the cheerleaders chilling on the front porch of the Shaker-style house, which was probably a hundred years old and in need of repairs. Leah smirked when Jessilyn squealed and pulled Justin into a tight embrace. They were sweet together, and watching them made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I’d never had anything like that. Not that I was looking for it, and definitely not when I had so much going on with music, dance, and classes. But I’d always wondered what it would be like to feel that strongly for someone. Lark and Henry only drove that point home.
This was only my second frat function, but Bones had been to plenty. In fact, you only had to mention the word party to him last year, and he’d been out the door. It hadn’t bothered me one way or another—unless he was puking in the bathroom afterward. He was lucky to have a decent roommate who’d helped him to bed a handful of times.
Once inside the house, I absently searched the crowd for Bones, kicking myself for seeking him out so readily. His boisterous laugh drew my eye to the kitchen. He was near the keg, where he had an audience of females, ugly shirt and all. Ugh, he’d be sure to rub it in my face.
It was wall-to-wall people around the beer, so we had to wait in line with our red Solo cups. Bones didn’t immediately notice us, not with the blonde cheerleader, Deanna, whispering in his ear. His fingers were gripping her waist, and I felt something stir inside me, like a mixture of resentment and need. A passing thought of what his hands had felt like on my body that morning flitted through my brain.
Maybe I really did need a hookup tonight.
Bones’s gaze fixed on me as I was pouring beer into my cup. He had this strange look on his face until his expression transformed into smugness.
“I’m gonna win,” he mouthed to me.
“Not if I do first,” I mouthed back.
“What’s that about?” Leah asked.
“He’s just being a dickwad, as usual.” I almost told her about our bet, but I didn’t know what she’d think of it. I didn’t even know what I thought of it. This competitive streak just came out in me whenever I was around him.
“Let’s play beer pong,” Justin suggested, and Jessilyn led the way to the table set up in what was likely the dining room.
When I heard a commotion behind me, I glanced over my shoulder to see that Deanna had tripped and was being propped up by Bones. I hadn’t noticed earlier that she’d already had one too many.