Chapter 6 Shane #2
I start to swing my gaze back to Jace, but stop myself and keep my attention fixed on Axel. I don’t like that my first instinct just now was to look at him to see his reaction to the news. I’ve never cared what he thinks about anything. Why do I give a shit now?
I can’t even blame our mutual Os for my weirdness.
I’ve hooked up with plenty of girls over the years, and done a hell of a lot more than dry hump them until we both came, but I’ve never once felt any sort of awkwardness around them or obligation toward them after.
Not even when I give in to my reckless side and hook up with people I shouldn’t.
Unlike a lot of guys, I’m honest with my partners.
I tell them straight up it’s a one-time thing and that I don’t do repeats.
The only time I’ve broken that rule was with Lianna, and that only happened because I was in a bad place at the time and figured I might as well give dating a try to make my parents happy.
That experiment didn’t last, and it helped me remember why I have that rule in the first place.
From what I’ve heard, Jace is the same, and for someone who fucks around as much as he does, he has a surprisingly good reputation and hardly ever gets involved in any sort of hookup drama. And he doesn’t seem to be looking to start any now.
So why the fuck am I so preoccupied with him? Why can’t I just shake it off and move on like I can so easily do with everyone else?
“We have another security brief we need to get through,” Nico says when the noise dies down a bit. “So the sooner you all shut the fuck up and let me get on with it, the sooner we’ll be done.”
Letting out a soft sigh, I slide down in my chair in an attempt to get more comfortable. The last security brief we had went on for over two hours; hopefully tonight’s will be significantly shorter.
When the room is quiet, Nico launches into his prepared speech, and I can feel my attention slipping away with each passing minute as he repeats the rules we’ve already had drilled into our heads dozens of times over the years.
“And starting this weekend, there’s going to be a curfew—”
This time, the outcry at his statement is loud and angry, but Nico just holds up his hands to silence everyone.
“Again,” he says when it’s finally quiet again. “I know that’s not something anyone wants to hear, but we have to implement some temporary measures while we handle some issues behind the scenes, and that includes the protocols for having non-members in either of the houses.”
I glance at Paxton, who’s staring at Nico in disbelief, and my gaze unconsciously wanders over to where Jace and his cousins are sitting.
They all look as surprised as everyone else in the room, but unlike most of the other guys, none of them seem all that upset by the news.
“Starting Friday, only house-sanctioned events will be allowed, and guests are no longer allowed outside of the common areas on the main floor or your private room,” Nico continues when it’s quiet again.
“Overnight guests will only be allowed if they’re pre-approved, and there will be a general midnight curfew for all guests unless they have prior approval to stay.
Same-day requests will not be considered except in extenuating circumstances.
And just to be clear, wanting to get your dick wet is not an extenuating circumstance. ”
Several protests ring out as an indistinct murmur fills the room.
“We don’t give a shit if any of you come home for the night,” Jordan says loudly, and the noise in the room instantly quiets.
It’s not that the guys don’t have any more complaints; they just know that pissing off the leaders, especially Jordan, will just lead to a longer meeting and a collective punishment that no one will enjoy.
“But,” he continues, “outsiders will not be tolerated on the grounds of either house after curfew, and there will be severe punishments for anyone who breaks the rules. Got it?”
No one says anything, but most guys nod to show that they understand.
“And the final announcement has to do with the house leadership next year,” Jordan says.
I sit up a little straighter in my chair and force myself to pay attention. I don’t give two shits about the leadership race or elections, but the promise that this is the end of the meeting is enough to make me care about whatever he’s about to say.
“Starting this year, there will be no more elections,” he says bluntly. “Leaders will be chosen by a council of alumni and senior members and will be thoroughly vetted before they’re confirmed.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Paxton whispers, leaning closer so I can hear him over the din of voices around us.
“No clue,” I whisper back. “But this is weird.”
“So weird,” he agrees.
Jordan waits a few seconds, then gives us all a look that says we’d better shut the fuck up before we really piss him off, effectively silencing us.
“And instead of waiting until after the break to announce it,” he continues. “We’re doing it now.” He holds up his hand, stopping the murmurs before they can really start. “Your leaders next year are going to be Killian, Jace, Jax, and Shane.”
“Dude,” Dan elbows me in the side hard as the room explodes with exclamations.
Wait, Shane? Like me, Shane?
“Congrats,” Paxton says, shooting me a forced smile.
I try to smile back, but it probably looks more like a grimace. Paxton was planning on running, and he had already asked me to help him with his campaign.
Awesome, now the closest thing I have to a best friend is going to be salty with me because I was picked for a job I never wanted in the first place.
I’m still trying to process everything when Jordan ends the meeting, and everyone starts talking at once.
“Congrats!” several people say as a crowd gathers around my chair.
I mumble my thanks as the reality of the situation hits like an anvil to the face.
Not only am I going to have to deal with the responsibility of being one of the frat leaders next year, I’m going to have to share that responsibility with Jace.
It’s no surprise that Killian and the twins were chosen, but why me? I’m not a leader, and I’m not a joiner. I do the bare minimum of what’s expected of me, and I have zero interest in having any sort of active role in the frat.
There are dozens of way more qualified people who not only want the role, but would excel at it. Why would they give it to me?
The only thing I have going for me is that I’m a founding legacy, and my father is extremely well connected with the other founding alumni.
Did he have anything to do with this? Was this because of his influence?
My dad, grandfather, and great-grandfather were all leaders when they were members, and my dad made no secret that he wanted to see that legacy continue, but that was before the night that changed all our lives for the worst.
“Come on,” Dan grabs my arm and pulls me out of my chair. “We’re going to The Cave to celebrate.”
The crowd around me cheers, and I smile and try to pretend I’m excited by the news as Dan pulls me toward the door.
I don’t want to go to The Cave, and I don’t want to celebrate, but it’s not like I can say no without raising suspicions.
Every single one of the guys around me would switch places with me in a heartbeat, and I’d be hard-pressed to explain to any of them that I’d rather perform surgery on myself than be one of the leaders next year.
I’m almost at the door when I feel someone’s eyes on me. Without thinking, I glance across the room and once again lock eyes with Jace.
He’s standing with his cousins, but while they’re talking among themselves, his attention is fixed on me.
The corners of his mouth tip up in a little smile that somehow looks demure and amused at the same time.
We stare at each other for a few beats, but the crowd around me isn’t in the mood to wait, and I almost trip over my feet as they tug me along with them.
Jace purses his lips in a little air kiss, and I almost trip again at the heat and promise in his eyes as I’m swept out of the room and into the hall.
“One more.” Paxton slides a beer across the table toward me.
“I’m good.” I shake my head. “I should head out soon.”
“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Shane?” he asks, shooting me a suspicious look.
I smile and give him what I hope is a casual shrug. “Yeah, I’m not really feeling like myself tonight,” I admit.
He takes a sip of the beer. “You can say that again. This is the first time we’ve ever gone out and you’ve been more sober than me.” He grins and chugs about half the beer, his throat working as he tips his head back.
He isn’t wrong. Usually I’m the first to get wasted, but I’ve only had two drinks over the past few hours, and I’m not even the slightest bit buzzed.
My head is just too busy to drink tonight, and that’s saying something. Usually getting lost in my vices is the only way I can relax when I’m worked up over something, but I’m just not feeling it tonight.
Every sip of beer I’ve had is sitting heavy in my stomach, and not even the familiar atmosphere can help soothe the restlessness that’s been getting worse the longer I’m out.
The Cave is one of the bars on campus, and it’s usually one of my favorite places to hang out with the guys.
The name comes from the fact that it’s part of an underground cellar that was carved out of stone and used to be a speakeasy that was built during prohibition.
It literally looks like someone built a bar in a cave, and it’s been a cornerstone of the Silvercrest party scene ever since.
“Anything wrong?” Paxton asks and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Just in a weird mood.”
“You’d think being named one of the leaders next year would help your mood, not hurt it,” he says casually, but I can hear the edge under his voice.
“Yeah, that was a surprise.” I run my finger over the smooth surface of the table. “Can I ask why you wanted to run for leadership?”
He blinks at me like I’ve suddenly grown a second head. “Why wouldn’t someone want to be one of the leaders?”
“Because it’s a lot of work and responsibility.”
“It’s also a ticket into the inner circle of the Rebels,” he points out.
“I guess it doesn’t really matter for you because you’re a founding legacy, but for us mere mortals, it’s the only way we can get into the club.
People have killed for that kind of proximity to power and influence, so running a frat for a year with three other guys doesn’t really seem like that big of a deal considering the payoff. ”
“Yeah, you’re right. I think I’m just in shock. I’ll be fine once it all sinks in.” I glance around at the rest of the table. “I should probably head back to the house. I’m not in celebration mode, and I’ll just drag everyone down.”
“Suit yourself.” He holds up his fist for me to bump. “And maybe try not to be such a killjoy next time you get some amazing news.”
I tap my fist against his. “No promises, but I’ll try.”
He chuckles as I push back my chair, and I slip away from the table as he turns to talk to the group sitting on his other side.
No one pays me any attention as I leave the bar, and I feel marginally better once I’m outside and walking back to Hamilton House.
I’m about halfway home when my phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to check the notification.
Dad: I hear congratulations are in order
I pause and unlock my phone to answer him.
Shane: thanks, I found out a few hours ago
Shane: can I call you?
I need to ask him a few questions, and it’s easier to do it over a call than it is to text.
Instead of answering me, my phone rings.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Is everything okay?” he asks. “I figured you’d be celebrating with your friends and too busy to talk to your dad.”
“I was. I’m just heading back to the house.”
“Is everything okay? You don’t sound like someone who was just named leader of the Rebels.”
“Yeah, I guess I’m still getting used to the idea. I mean, up until a few hours ago, I was going to help my friend with his campaign, and now I’ve got the position he wanted.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.”
“I’m not not happy.”
“Shane, what’s going on with you?” he asks, his voice full of concern. “Surely this isn’t that much of a shock that you can’t even be happy about it.”
“It kinda is,” I say. “I’ve never made any indication that I wanted the job, so it sort of came out of nowhere when they announced it.”
“We’ve talked about this for years,” he says patiently. “This was always the plan.”
“How could it always have been the plan if it’s a new thing this year? We’ve always had elections,” I point out.
“Not being appointed,” he says dismissively. “But taking your turn at leadership.”
“When has that ever been the plan for me?” I stop walking and look around to make sure I’m alone on the path. I don’t want to have this part of the conversation in front of an audience if it’s going where I think it is.
“It’s been the plan for you since your brother died,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s true KJ would have been a better fit for the role, but it’s tradition, and since he’s not there, the responsibility falls on you to step up.”
“I don’t think I’ll be good at it,” I say honestly. “I’m not KJ.”
“No, you’re not. But you’re my son, and a Matheson. You’ll step up and fill your brother’s shoes because that’s what’s necessary. Right?”
“Yeah,” I say, my throat tight.
“I have to go,” he says. “But try to understand that this is a good thing, even if the news is a shock right now.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I say because it’s easier than trying to tell him that I’m not my brother and I’m my own person who wants different things than he did. “Love you.”
“I love you too. And please don’t say anything about your doubts to your mother. It’s not a good time for her right now.”
“Of course. Can you tell her I love her and I’ll talk to her later?”
“I’ll do that. Goodbye, Shane.”
“Bye, Dad.”
The call goes dead, and I squeeze my phone so hard my knuckles go white. I have to fight the urge to throw my phone at the nearest object as hard as I can just to see it shatter.
Instead of doing that, I shove my phone back into my pocket and stalk down the path toward the house.
I hope to fuck I don’t run into anyone before I can spend the next hour in the gym beating the hell out of one of the boxing bags. Otherwise I might completely lose my shit and do something I’ll regret.