Chapter 4 #2
He steps around me before spinning back toward me and whispering, “You smell real nice today, by the way. Wear that for Ang?” He snatches a bar.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
I stifle a groan as I grab a cup from the cabinet and get some water from the fridge filter.
When I return to the living room, I discover Dax sitting on one side of Angie, with Ryan having helped himself to my spot.
Should’ve seen that one coming. And he’s glowing, like this couldn’t have worked more perfectly if he’d planned it.
“Doesn’t seem like you were messing around at the gym,” Angie says, admiring the way his biceps stretch the sleeves of his tank.
“Oh, you like that?” He sits up, flexing. “Go ahead, cop a feel.” Angie helps herself—I don’t know that my face could be much hotter right now. “Honestly, it’s more about paying attention to the tris. Kill those as much as I can.”
“Is she the only one who gets a feel?” Dax asks, green with envy.
“I want to feel,” Lance adds.
“Hey!” Ty says. “You have tris right here.”
“I can feel on those later.”
“Get over here, guys.” Ryan’s invitation has Lance and Dax joining Angie, and Ty looks about as annoyed as me. As much as we both know Ryan’s no threat to Ty, we also know Ty’s protective as hell. Lance is his guy, and everyone in the house knows it.
“Yeah, yeah, feel up Sigma Alpha’s secret weapon for the TaskFrat challenges,” Ty says.
Lance shoots him a look, smirking.
The TaskFrat challenges are a series of task-based competitions between all the frats of Peach State.
They happen throughout the year, and right now, Sigma Alpha’s in the lead, and Lance is determined to make sure that’s not for very long.
Even as a couple, they still enjoy their infamous TaskFrat rivalry.
“If you think that’s good,” Ryan says as everyone continues appreciating his tris, “you should see what I’ve been doing for my upper abs.”
As he stands, he tears off his shirt, like a fucking stripper for the mini bachelorette party that surrounds him, everyone getting a feel.
“During the season,” he says, “I have to keep my bulk a little more, so it’s been nice to lean down.” Angie places her hand on his abs, stroking, and the guys follow her lead.
My face is hot with envy.
“Oh, wow!” she says. “So firm.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dax follows. “You can crush a man with these.”
Even hating his goddamn guts right now, it’s hard not to be impressed by his physique. Ryan doesn’t fuck around at the gym. The guy doesn’t even look human—more like some demigod from Greek myths. As much as I don’t like him, feels like it’d be a waste not to make a statue of this guy.
Ryan continues entertaining his adoring audience before saying, “Mart, you want to get a feel too? You’re looking a little left out.”
“Maybe you can show me later, before bed,” I tease.
“Got some other muscles that could use some attention before bed.”
“I would think an exercise science guy would know that’s not a muscle.”
“I said other muscles, which a cock does, in fact, contain, so why don’t you stick with risk management, and I can show you what I’m talking about during our regular scheduled time later.”
This comment catches Angie’s attention, so I feel the need to add, “We don’t ever do anything like that.”
“Stop being a homophobe, Mart,” Ryan says.
“What? That’s not… I was just…” Can’t exactly say that I just want it to be totally clear to Angie that I am free and not messing around with anyone. What would be the point? She’s not gonna mess with me anyway.
“Look at his face,” Ryan teases. “You wish I would let you jerk my meat.”
“When you make everything sound that sexy, how can I resist?” I bite back.
Fortunately, I notice Payton heading down the stairs, so I’m hoping that’ll put an end to the gun show. But it still takes too long for Ryan to put his goddamn shirt back on, with Angie basically ogling him the whole time. That only makes me hate Ryan even more, which I didn’t think was possible.
We greet Payton and head out to Junkie’s.
I try to work it out so I can sit next to Angie, but Lance winds up on one side of her, and Ryan—who’s operating so smoothly, it’d be weird as hell for me to make a big deal about it in front of the group—sits on her other side. Now he’s totally ignoring me, dedicating all his attention to Angie.
I’m starting to adjust to the heat searing my chest. I can hate on him all I want, but the guy has a way of making even what he’s gonna order sound sexy as he jokes his way through the menu with her.
Once he’s really got her laughing, he turns to me, as though he wants to rub his victory in my face.
“Did you need anything, Mart? Maybe a kids’ menu or a high chair? ”
“Ooh, what has crawled up your ass today?” Ty asks, overhearing the comment.
“Ah, I’m just teasing my roomie.” Ryan drapes his arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer.
“Hands off.”
Despite how much he’s enjoying this, he must hear the rage in my tone because he releases me and turns his attention back to Angie.
This has to be the worst dinner of my entire college career, and it only gets worse as Ryan continues doting and complimenting, making Angie laugh her ass off in that way that normally has me enchanted but now I’m seething.
When we finish, we return to the house, and I head up to my room to get away from him for a minute. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take him long to join me.
“You never mentioned how tango went,” he says, stripping off his shirt, then dropping his pants and underwear and just leaving them beside his air mattress as he plops down on it, that fucking dick of his dropping to one side. Given his weight, I’m surprised the mattress hasn’t popped.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Getting comfortable.”
“That’s not what I was talking about, and you know it.”
“What were you talking about, then?” He actually sounds oblivious.
“Angie.” I can’t even say her name now without my face catching fire. “She’s a nice girl, lovely, even. Don’t put her in the middle of this thing between us.”
“Relax. We were just talking.”
Like I believe that. “As much of an asshole as you are, it’d be even more of an asshole move to mess around with her to get back at me.”
His jaw tenses, and he pushes to his feet. That fat thing between his legs sways as he approaches me.
“First off,” he says, “it’s not a crime to make friends with a girl who hangs around the house, and who, as far as I can tell, has zero—and I do mean zero—interest in you.”
He gets right up in my face, and I can feel his hot breath pricking my lips, the scent of the mint he grabbed from Junkie’s filling my nostrils.
He sizes me up. “And second, you’re real cute when you’re all worked up like this.”
I ball my fists as my rage surges through me.
“We can still kiss and make up.” He puckers his lips and moves like he’s about to take a kiss, so I lean back, and he laughs. “Relax, man. I wasn’t actually gonna kiss you. Although, all this tension’s really getting me worked up.”
“You fucking a-hole,” I say before noticing that his cock’s longer than normal. “Um…why is that…?”
“Huh. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that fun giving you hell.” He winks before spinning around and heading back to his air mattress, collapsing onto it, cock up as he grabs his laptop and earbuds. “I imagine you didn’t want to help me out with this,” he says.
“Disgusting.”
“Fine. Guess I need to crank one out in the bathroom real quick.” He pops up and heads for the bathroom door, then stops, turning back to me.
“Unless this is violating any of the rules. No? Cool. Maybe you should take care of yourself too. You seem way too stressed.” He heads in and closes the door.
I’d growl if he wouldn’t hear me, but instead I fall onto my mattress and bash my fist against it a few times.
One slipup. That’s all I need. And then.
He.
Is.
Out.