Chapter 10
ten
I threw my arms around Sam the moment she stepped out of the car. “You’re here,” I squealed, putting on a smile for my best friend as I banished all thoughts of last night. At least for a little bit. I needed to give my mind a mental break.
Sam hugged me back. “And ready to fucking party,” she sang, excitement shimmering in her winter-gray eyes. We jumped in an excited circle on the side of the street, hugging for another minute as we basked in the glow of beginning a new chapter together.
Standing on the curb, she scanned the house behind me, squinting against the already hot sun shining down over her aqua hair. She wore a pair of tattered black fishnet stockings, a short skater skirt, and a graphic tee also in black. From head to toe, she was so Sam. “This doesn’t look like the dorm in the picture,” she commented, brows bunching in confusion.
I turned so we were shoulder to shoulder, staring at the housing for upperclassmen. “Because it’s not,” I replied, my conversation with Tristan last night popping into my head. Would Dean Harris really deny my request? Was it worth the risk to find out? Then I remembered the stupid picture Tristan had taken last night and frowned. Shaking my head, I looped my hand through Sam’s arm and said, “We need to talk.”
She lifted a single brow, angling her head slightly to the side in my direction to study me. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Do you want to know before or after we unload your car?” I asked.
She glanced behind her at the used Mazda packed with shit. Far more crap than she needed, but Sam liked to be prepared for every impromptu situation that might come her way. She was also a bit of a hoarder with things like makeup, clothes, shoes, purses, and accessories, and she was messy as hell. Having her as a roommate would be maddening but never dull.
I couldn’t wait. I was so ready for some of my best friend’s craziness to add color to my world. For the last six months, my life had been nothing but shades of gray. Occasionally a glimmer of pink, blue, red, and yellow would peek through but never long enough to make a permanent impact.
Grief could be all-consuming. It could shut out all those feelings you took for granted and only let in the ones that crippled you. That’s how I would have described the first month after my mother’s death—crippling.
My father had been no better—worse even. It had been Sam, Preston, and even Tristan in his own way, who had helped me get out of bed, who pulled me back into the world, who made me want to start living again.
And now, I only had Sam.
It didn’t matter that Tristan lived in the same house as me. He was the enemy now, and I still didn’t know why. What had I done to make him want to toy with me, especially after everything I’d been through? There were nights when Preston hadn’t been around. When I had gone to the Malones’ home to find Preston but found Tristan instead. Those nights I’d never been more vulnerable. Something about Tristan crumbled my walls. He could see past the forced smiles and the fake automatic responses. See the pain and hurt I tried desperately to keep at bay.
I knew if I called Preston the first thing he would do was try to convince me we should get back together. Right now, I had to keep my distance from him…and Tristan it seemed.
“Tell me now,” Sam quickly answered. “You know I can’t wait. Show me our room, and let’s get to the dirt. The car will be here later.” She waved a dismissive hand to the Mazda.
We stepped inside Thorn Hall, and Sam gasped. “You’ve got to be shitting me. We’re living here for the year? God, Ever, sometimes I think the best thing that happened to me was befriending you.”
I laughed. Sam and I hadn’t been instant friends. It had taken a few incidences before we grew on each other. And now, I couldn’t imagine having a better friend. Sam was fucking loyal to a fault. She didn’t have an agenda. She didn’t give a shit that I came from money or lived in a big house. Money had never been a factor in our friendship, but that didn’t mean Sam didn’t appreciate the benefits.
As I stood beside her with a scowl, an image of Tristan in my room last night flashed behind my eyes. “I didn’t do this,” I corrected.
Her expression turned confused as she glanced at me. “Then how? Did they run out of space at the dorms?” It was a rational explanation. Why else would two freshmen end up in a house for upperclassmen?
I snorted. “Hardly. I have two words for you. Tristan Malone.”
It didn’t sink in right away, but I saw the second it did. Her gaze narrowed. “Tristan’s here. Fucking Tristan? As in the Malone brother you’ve wanted to bang since you were like thirteen?”
That should be his nickname. Fucking Tristan . “Yes,” I sighed, annoyed at the naive girl crush reminder.
“Why is this a bad thing? You’re no longer dating his brother, and you still haven’t told me what happened between you two.” She grinned with a wicked lift of her brow. “All is fair in love and war.”
The thing was, it did feel like a war between Tristan and me. “I thought you despised him.”
“I do,” she said, pursing her lips. “But this isn’t about me. I can’t control your heart. Although, I do question why your taste in men is so limited. You really need to date outside the Malone family.”
My chin lifted, a smirk pulling at the corners of my lips. “Maybe I will.”
“Fuck, yes. About damn time. We’re so going out tonight,” she declared, swinging an arm around my shoulder.
I groaned internally. A party had not been what I had in mind. “It’s your first night,” I practically whined. “And we have so much to unpack,” I argued. “Plus, we need to go to admissions and request a new room. We can’t stay here.”
Her gray eyes twinkled. Nothing good happened when she got that look in her eyes. “Normally, I would agree with you, but I have a feeling about this place. We should stay,” she said. Sam didn’t think about the future. She lived for the now. Nothing was as important as what was happening at that exact moment.
If we stayed, we wouldn’t be able to request a new place when shit went south, and crap would definitely go down with Tristan and Sam under the same roof. “I have a bad feeling, Sam. You and Tristan?”
“Contrary to popular belief, Tristan isn’t the only man on the planet. Have you met anyone other than Tristan?” she asked, following me to the elevator.
I shook my head. “Not yet.” I didn’t mention the girl Tristan had his tongue down yesterday. “Oh, I did meet Marissa, our resident adviser,” I added.
Sam rolled her eyes.
When we got to the third floor, I remembered that Sam and I had our separate rooms. We wouldn’t be sharing as we thought. At least not bedrooms. The bathroom was another story. I stopped at the door marked 3C. “Do you have your key?”
Sam nodded, dangling the silver ring on her index finger. “Yeah. I grabbed it from the office before coming over. Is this it?”
I made a grand sweeping gesture over her door. “Yup. This is your room.”
“You mean our room,” she corrected with a smile, putting the key in and turning the lock.
Toying with my bracelet, I replied, “Uh, not exactly. My room is next door. The one in the corner. 3B.”
Sam glanced over her shoulder before stepping inside and blinked at me. “I have my own room?”
I gave her a sheepish look. “It appears that way.”
“Who did you fuck?”
I rolled my eyes. She and I both knew the answer to that. No one, seeing as I was a virgin. “Classy,” I retorted, scrunching my nose. I was used to Sam saying the first thing on her mind. “It was Tristan,” I joked, heavy on the sarcasm.
Without missing a beat, she retorted, “You slept with Tristan? And you’re just now telling me. I thought we were friends.”
“Funny,” I dryly replied. “He’s the one who arranged for us to live here, remember?”
Her lips pressed together in a line. “Of course, it was him.” She shoved the door fully open, her eyes surfing the room. It was a typical college room. Still nicer than the dorms I imagined. At least the ones I’d seen online and during our campus tour. Besides, once Sam got her stamp into this place, it would be completely transferred. No doubt half the shit in her car was to decorate the space to her taste just like her dark personality. I could bet my college tuition her dorm room would be decked out in black and enough candles, crystals, and sage to hold a séance by the end of the week.
“Are you mad?” I asked, slowly following her inside.
“That Tristan upgraded our rooms without telling us? Or that you and I won’t be sleeping in the same room?”
“Both,” I said, padding over to the bare mattress, plopping down, and tucking my legs into a pretzel.
She went to the closet, pulled open the doors, and inspected the size. “If you want me to be mad, then I’m pissed as hell. I’ll always have your back.” It must have met her approval because she joined me on the bed. “Now tell me what the fuck happened.”
Where the hell did I start? With the blackmail? Why I had to break up with Preston? That I wasn’t all that upset about the breakup now that she was here? Or that Tristan kept taking photos of me in compromising positions? The last was my personal favorite.
I’d never kept anything from Sam, and yet, something held me back from spilling all the tea. Why? What was it? Was I ashamed?
As I chewed my lower lip, I realized I had to tell someone, but because I knew Sam, I had to have her word she wouldn’t do or say anything. That would be nearly impossible for her. Holding back was not Sam’s forte. “If I tell you what’s been going on, you have to promise me it doesn’t leave this room. Not until I get some answers.”
“I was curious before. Now I will strangle you if you don’t tell me.”
“Promise, Sam. You can’t repeat a single word,” I reiterated the importance.
She took note of the seriousness in my features. “You know I will always keep your secrets, Ever. The ones that count,” she amended after the glance I gave her.
Taking a breath, I began to unload it all. Starting with the night I had gone home with Tristan after the party and waking up in his bed. She, of course, had the right responses at the appropriate times, which consisted mostly of things like I knew he was a bastard, what a prick, and Tristan deserves to be roasted on a spit. I appreciated her vividness. By the time I had finished, Sam looked as if she was going to shove her boot up Tristan’s ass the first chance she got.
That worried me. I didn’t want him to know I’d told anyone.
“Fuck me. Are you kidding? Tristan? So, he’s the reason you broke up with Preston after all. I always assumed he would be the one to interfere in your relationship, but I figured it would be because you slept with him, not because he manipulated you.” She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes hardening. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” She moved to get off the bed, but I snagged her arm, pulling her back to the bed.
“You can’t. You promised,” I reminded, pleading with my eyes.
I could see the internal struggle in her eyes. She wanted to be a loyal friend, but she also wanted to protect me. “Ever, even though I never thought Preston was good for you, I don’t like the method Tristan is using. What’s his game?”
My head dropped as I stared at my fingers. “I don’t know. But I mean to find out.”
“Is that why he made sure you were in the same house as him? So he could torment you the entire year?” she theorized.
I lifted my gaze, the pressure I’d been feeling for days tightening in my chest at the suggestion. “Maybe. Who the fuck knows what Tristan’s thinking.”
“It doesn’t make sense to me. Sure, Tristan has always been a king-size dick, metaphorically,” she added, seeing the slight twitch of my lips. “But cruel...that’s not his style.”
I took a small breath. “He’s been gone for a while. Maybe he changed.”
She breezed through her nostrils. “Does a leopard change its spots?”
I rolled my eyes. “What am I going to do? How can I live in this house with him?”
“If Tristan wants to play games, then play.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded like trouble. But then again...why should Tristan be the only one calling the shots? Perhaps the only way I could get him to back down was by beating him at his own game. Plotting revenge had not been how I thought I’d spend my first semester at college. “You might be right,” I admitted, actually entertaining the idea.
She jumped up to her feet and spun back toward me. “Shit, finally. This could be fun.”
Sam had such a warped sense of fun. “Come on, let’s grab some boxes and get you moved in,” I said, inching to the edge of the bed.
I couldn’t believe I would be spending the entire year living in the same house as Tristan Malone. This was nothing like the family trips we’d taken, and when I lived at his house over the summer, Tristan hadn’t been home. This was a whole new dynamic that was most definitely a bad idea.
“Right. I need to find an outfit for tonight.” Her eyes swept over my basic workout shorts and cropped tank. I had dressed comfortably knowing we’d be lugging boxes, unpacking more crap than one college student needed, and getting Sam settled in. I should have known Sam would have her own agenda. The girl always did.
“What’s tonight?” I inquired, suspicion in my voice.
She gave me a bright smile. “I’ve got the perfect cure to pull you out of this slump.”
I groaned.