Chapter 4
SHANE
Leaning back in my chair, I strum a few random chords on my guitar, not really listening to them, more to create some background noise in my otherwise silent room.
I’ve been unsettled for the past few days, and the urge to go out and do something stupid is getting stronger with every passing hour.
This kind of thing isn’t new for me, not by a long shot, and giving in to my impulses is usually the only way to break the cycle and reset things so I can pretend to be the laid-back frat guy everyone knows me as.
I could go to one of the many parties I was invited to, but with the headspace I’m in, I know there’s no way I’d be able to abstain from my favorite vices if I were offered them.
And giving in to my vices is a surefire way to set myself up for a night of fucking up and having to deal with the consequences later.
The best thing for me to do is to stay the fuck away from everyone until this passes, but after almost a week of fighting, it’s getting harder to convince myself that I shouldn’t just say “fuck it” and give in so I can finally feel like myself again.
Or at least like the version I’ve molded myself into.
The melancholy notes from my guitar fill the room, but instead of helping to soothe some of my restless energy, the music makes everything around me seem bleaker and more hopeless.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I pause at the sudden interruption, my fingers hovering over the strings of my guitar as I glance at my door.
Everyone I know is either out partying or off doing other stuff around campus. Who the hell is that?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Whoever it is obviously can’t take a hint, and I’m hit with a wave of annoyance as I put my guitar down and go to answer my door.
“What’s up, fuck nugget?” Jace greets as soon as the door swings open.
“Not interested,” I tell him in a flat voice and immediately start to close my door.
Jace grabs the side of it and stops me with a gentle tug. “You haven’t even heard what I was going to say.”
“Don’t need to hear it.” I shoot him a glare. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say. Not tonight, not ever.”
“You sure about that?” His lips curl up in a smirky smile. “Because I think you’ll be interested in this.”
“Let go of my door.”
He releases his hold on it, but before I can slam the door shut in his face, he rakes one hand through his long hair and fixes his intense stare on mine. “I saw your little trick with Cody the other night.”
I freeze mid-swing.
“Told ya you’d be interested.” He smiles knowingly. “So, are we gonna have this conversation in the hall, or are you going to invite me in so we can have some privacy?”
Grudgingly, I open the door and step back.
“Thank you kindly,” he drawls and walks into my room like he owns the place.
I close the door behind him and lean against it as Jace looks around.
“Huh,” he says after a few beats and cuts his eyes to me.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“What do you mean, what do I mean?”
“I mean, what did you mean by saying ‘huh?’”
“Nothing.” His voice is calm, but the humor in his eyes makes my blood pressure go up a few points.
“Tell me what you meant.”
He shrugs. “Seems like a weird hill to die on, but it didn’t really mean anything. I’m just surprised your room looks like this.”
I glance around.
All the rooms in Hamilton House are identical and are just as ridiculous as the rest of the building.
The dark wood accents, intricate crown molding, and sculpted ceilings with elaborate chandeliers give the rooms a rich and luxurious feel. So do the massive antique beds, the heavy wooden wardrobes, and private baths.
Each room is made to house two people with matching beds, desks, wardrobes, dressers and shelves opposite each other, and in the center of the rooms are sitting areas with coffee tables, a couch and a stupid settee that’s definitely more of a decor choice than something a group of college kids would want in their dorm rooms.
Thanks to my status as a founding legacy, which just means that my family was part of the group that originally founded the society, I’ve had the choice to live alone or have a roommate since my first year while everyone else has to share with a roommate.
I’ve chosen to live alone, and after three years of not having to deal with having anyone in my room, I don’t like that Jace is in here and invading the only space at this damn school that’s just mine.
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like you don’t even live here.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He crosses his arms, making the material of his sleeves pull tight around his massive biceps. “Other than your desk and that”—he waves at my guitar—“there’s nothing with any personality. It’s like Dracula’s Airbnb in here. Boring and plain.”
“Just like me, right?”
“I didn’t say that.” He shoots me a little grin. “But if that’s what you’re saying, then who am I to argue?”
“Tell me what you meant in the hall,” I say, changing the subject.
Jace has a singular talent for pissing me the fuck off, and the worst part is that he doesn’t even have to resort to insults or barbs and just twists everything I say until I lose my shit while he just stands there and grins like the dumbass he is.
“So demanding.” He clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “I meant exactly what I said. I saw your little trick with Cody.”
“What are you talking about?”
There’s no way he means what I think he does, right? He has to be talking about something else.
He fixes his intense stare on me, his earlier teasing and fake innocence evaporating in an instant. “I saw your trick with the card.”
My heart does a weird skittering beat as my chest constricts.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him. He has to be lying and trying to get me to admit to cheating. There’s no way he saw me switch cards.
“Mmmmhmmmm.” He drags his tongue over his bottom lip, and my eyes are drawn to the shine left behind. “Of course you don’t. Maybe I should ask Axel if I can pull the security footage from the room to jog your memory?”
“No, don’t,” I say quickly. Too quickly.
He grins. “I thought that might help you remember things.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Who says I want anything?” He uncrosses his arms and pushes his long hair from his face.
“Why else would you be here?”
“To have a friendly conversation about your particular skill set.”
“Skill set?” I repeat dumbly.
“I’m assuming that cheating at cards isn’t the only thing you can do.” He pulls an unopened deck of Bicycle cards out of his pocket and holds it out to me.
“And what do you want me to do with that?” I ask, eyeing the cards suspiciously.
“Show me what else you can do.” He wiggles them at me.
“What makes you think I can do other things?”
“Call it intuition.” He wiggles the pack again.
“Why are you doing this?” I take the cards from them and seek out the little tab so I can pull off the plastic wrapping.
“Because it’s fun.”
“Fun?” I ask dubiously. “Are you sure about that?”
“Fun for me,” he corrects. “And I figured you’d find this preferable to me telling everyone that you’re a card cheat. How do you think that would go over?”
I shoot him a dirty look and shake the cards out of the package.
For a frat full of some of the most obscenely wealthy people on this side of the planet, the guys are notoriously stingy when it comes to their own money. I’ve seen friendships end and fights break out over far less than cheating at poker.
“So what am I supposed to do now?” I ask as I unconsciously run my thumb over the smooth surface of the cards.
“Show me a trick.”
“A trick?” I shoot him a flat look.
“Yeah.” He grins. “Entertain me.”
I bite my lip so I don’t tell him to go fuck himself.
He has the upper hand here, and it’s better if I just do what he says and hopefully that’ll be enough to make him forget all about what he saw.
“Like what kind of trick?” I split the deck with one hand and rotate the halves so the top part is now on the bottom. Then I do it again, only this time I split the deck into three and mix them up.
“That’s a good start.” He smiles appreciatively, his eyes locked on my hands. “What else can you do?”
Adding my other hand to the mix, I break the deck up into five parts and flip and turn them in a dizzying pattern until they’re all neatly stacked back together.
“Not bad.” His grin sends a little zing of awareness through me, but I shake it off and focus on the cards so I can get him the hell out of my room.
“I’m pretty good at shuffling,” I tell him, shifting the cards so they rain down in a cascade as they mix together and fall into my waiting hand.
“I bet you are.” He chuckles, still watching my hands as I do a different cascade shuffle, then a few of my more impressive shuffle techniques. They’re not that difficult after years of practice, but they look fancy. Hopefully Jace will leave me the fuck alone if I play this stupid game with him.
“That can’t be it,” he says when I pause. “What else you got?”
“This is kinda fun.” Using one hand, I bend the cards at just the right angle, then release the top one so it flips out of my grip and flies a few feet before neatly falling into my waiting hand.
I don’t miss a beat as I re-grip the card and flip it back onto the top of the deck. Then, just to be fancy, I do it again with the top three cards but leave out the flip so the cards shoot from one hand to the other in rapid succession.
Jace flicks his gaze up to meet mine, and the intensity in them sends a weird shiver through me. “More,” he says, his tone dark and heavy with something I can’t quite place.
I swallow involuntarily as our eyes lock. I’m so used to seeing Jace play the role of the chill and sarcastic frat boy that this complete one-eighty in his personality is as unnerving as it is exciting.