Chapter 3
Chapter Three
CHAD
Icheer along with my brothers as two sorority girls wrestle in a blow-up pool.
It’s entertaining, but unlike the others, the sight doesn’t make me lose my mind.
Their tits and bras are on full display under their wet shirts, and I find it attractive but not on the same level as the other guys.
College has been eye-opening. I’ve discovered that while I think most women are pretty, men are fire.
Sexy and exciting, the sight of them burns through my bloodstream.
Well, most guys anyway. My brothers are off-limits, which could be because I think they’re all butt-ugly or because I knew before I got attached to anyone that it would be a bad idea.
Most of college I’ve spent hooking up with women while I experimented with men.
It was over the summer that I finally felt comfortable enough to call myself bi, even if I haven’t officially come out to anyone.
I have a feeling the guys in my house have at least heard the rumors about me, and if they haven’t, I doubt it will take long for them to get wind of it.
Because fuck any homophobia to hell, this year I have my own room, so I’m living college life to the fullest, which means hooking up with any and every guy who will have me.
I leave the backyard behind and head inside, passing by Robbie, who’s on a table, downing a beer. Brandon is trying unsuccessfully to get him off it, and I have a feeling that babysitting Robbie is going to take up a large part of his night.
There’s a dance floor set up in the living room, smash cups happening in the kitchen, and a whole line of people waiting to take photos in front of the backdrop Robbie set up. Zeke had nothing to worry about. This party is frat as fuck.
A few people try to talk to me as I pass through the house, but the bass is so loud I’ve got no chance of making out actual words, so I upnod them and keep moving.
We’ve got plywood lined with foam pieces to board up the windows, so other than the front and back doors, barely any sound is getting out, which makes it even louder inside.
I check the bathroom only to find a massive line to piss, so I change direction and head outside. There are some bushes with my name on them.
Carter and Raymond are our door bitches, and I check in with them to make sure everything is fine before jogging down the front steps and rounding the side of the house. The bushes are in the shadows, outside of the golden glow of the streetlamps, and I hurry to undo my zipper and get to business.
It’s immediate relief, and I sigh through the whole long piss.
I’m dazed in that happy kind of way I get from alcohol, and as I tilt my head back and look at the sky, a dopey smile crosses my face. I might only have a year left of this paradise, but on a night as perfect as this one, that’s not something that can get me down.
All I need now is to find someone to get off with later tonight.
Hopefully someone tall and broad, maybe with stubble, or rough fingers, or a low, sexy voice.
A shiver of want races through me.
I shake myself off and tuck my dick away, reminding myself I have to find the guy first, before I get too excited.
I swing around to head back inside—
And slam right into someone.
He staggers backward, slips, and falls into the bushes with the sharp snap of twigs and aggressive rustle of leaves.
Oops.
I cringe and creep closer.
At least he landed upstream from where I pissed. I think.
“Ow …” comes the pathetic, belated cry.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Hard to say.”
“Why?”
“Because I have something digging into my back, and all I can see is bush.”
“That’s what she said.” I reach down to take his hand and yank him out. “Though if you ask me, that sounds like the perfect end to a …”
The guy straightens, and I catch sight of his face. No details, because it’s dark, but what I can see? The defined lips, inky curls, long, dark lashes …
He’s not what I thought I was looking for tonight, but damn my dick is into it.
“Perfect end to …” he prompts. And where I’d originally been imagining something gravelly and deep, his voice hits me like that first crack of a can of beer. It’s smooth, comforting, and sends anticipation racing over my skin.
“The night.”
He tilts his head, gaze roving down my body, and it occurs to me a second too late that he’s checking me out.
I subtly flex, hoping he likes what he sees.
“I agree partially,” he says. “But bush isn’t really my style.”
But something digging into his back is? That’s promising.
“I’m Bailey, by the way.”
“Hey, I’m—”
Loud voices interrupt me from around the front of the house. I turn toward them, hoping I can ignore it, but they keep getting louder, so I sidestep the cutie and hurry to see what’s going on. Raymond’s holding some guy back, who’s yelling in the direction of the house.
“Fucking idiot.” I could step in and help, but I’d rather see how this plays out.
“I’ve heard that’s a popular opinion around here,” Bailey says.
I’m not sure what he means, but I’m thrilled he followed me.
I groan as Raymond shoves the guy down the stairs, and the guy puffs up like he’s inflatable. They go for each other, and shit, I better step in.
Fucking pledges.
As I close the space between us, I recognize the guy, Toby, from another frat. He’s yelling something about his girlfriend. Raymond shoves him again, and right as Toby goes to take a swing, I shove him from behind.
“Lay off, dude.”
Toby swings around, fist ready, and clips me in the chin so fast I don’t see it coming. The pain smashes through my face, and it takes me a second to shake it off and step up to him.
“What the hell?”
Alarm crosses his face. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was you …
” He holds his hands up like I might hit back, and yeah, I’m fucking thinking about it.
My face hurts, even through all the booze.
The only thing that stops me is that damn conscionable voice in the back of my head, reminding me that frat houses have been shut down for less.
“Time to go,” I say between my teeth. “And if you bring your shit around here again, I’ll make sure you’re blacklisted from every party on this street. Got it?”
“But Sarah—”
“I don’t care.” Please go so I can stop playing tough. “Night’s over.”
He scowls, then shoots a filthy look over his shoulder at Raymond before stalking away. I relax my fists that were clenched tightly at my side.
Raymond moves closer. “I’m sorry, Ch—”
“Don’t.” I slap him over the head. “We deescalate, not detonate, dumbass. No one’s going to report anyone for a little hit”—that hurts like hell—“but if both houses ended up getting involved, you can bet your ass the dean would hear about it, and we’d all be hauled in.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well—” Shit, Bailey. I whirl around to where I left him, more than prepared to search every inch of the house if I need to, but thank the Greek gods he hasn’t left.
“Just don’t let it happen again,” I mutter to Raymond before heading for the guy I’m hoping to see naked by the end of the night.
And damn. Now that he’s in the light, I can see more clearly. He’s tall and thin and has adorable freckles over his nose. This guy’s fucking beautiful.
“Now that shit is dealt with, want to grab a drink?” I ask.
“Isn’t that why we’re all here?”
“One of the reasons.” My other two are to have fun and find someone to get off with, so we’ll see how I go with the other two goals. At the moment—sore face aside—things are looking good.
I lead Bailey inside, past the ear-splitting noise, until we reach the kitchen, where the music is low enough I only have to raise my voice a little to be heard.
“How haven’t I seen you before?” I blurt, then cringe, because way to play it cool, Doomsen.
“I’m reasonably new.”
“Yeah, I would have remembered your face.”
“My face?” He frowns. “Because …”
Oh no … Did I read him wrong?
I hurry to step back and place some distance between us. “Ah, it’s just, you know, interesting. Dude. So, a drink? Want one?”
He still has a crease between his eyebrows but eventually nods. “That sounds great.”
I pour out two vodka and Cokes that are more alcohol than soda. When he sips his and doesn’t react to the taste, my respect for the guy bumps up a notch.
A smile slowly works its way over my face, and I can’t seem to make it stop. “Where’d you come from?”
“Vermont. I went to UVM until the end of last year when I got a transfer here.”
“Why here?”
“Closer to home.” He shrugs a little. “Mom got sick last year. She’s fine now, but I feel better being within driving distance.”
“Shit.” That must have been scary. My folks piss me off occasionally, but I’d do anything for them. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re past it,” he says softly. “What’s your life story?”
“Thankfully, super boring. Parents and twin baby sisters all back in Atlanta, and I was offered a partial scholarship here, so I took it.”
“Smart man.”
“You’d be the first to say that.” My dumb grin is back. “I’m not known for my brains.”
His gaze drops to my arms, and when his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, it looks almost involuntary. “Well, you have so many other positive qualities, it must be hard to choose.”
“You’ve got no idea about my qualities.” I pump my eyebrows, and thankfully, he starts to laugh. I mean, what’s a dick joke between friends?
Not that he’s my friend.
That’s definitely not what I want from him.
I grab his drink and top up both glasses before nodding to the hall. “Come with me.”
“Wait.”
Shit, did I read him wrong again?
Instead, he surprises me by crossing to the freezer and pulling out a bag of frozen berries that one of my brothers uses in his smoothies. I watch Bailey close the distance between us, and when he’s right in front of me, he presses the cold bag to my face.
I want to point out it doesn’t hurt—thank you, vodka—but then I catch his clear blue eyes, and all the air zaps from the room. He’s standing closer than he needs to, filling my gut with fizz and my pants with a boner I could stab someone with. And hopefully that someone is him.
The last thing I want is to break contact, but when his eyes start to fill with heat, I can’t take it anymore. I grab the berries, toss them back in the freezer, then take his hand.
“Come with me?” I expect him to question me, or maybe hesitate, but his hand tightens around mine.
“Lead the way.”