Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Brandon
“He’s up to something.”
Zeke’s gaze moves from his laptop to me. “Who?”
“Robbie.”
“Why do you sound surprised?” Zeke eyes me, clearly amused. “He’s always up to something.”
I almost tell him because my goddamn boyfriend promised to cut the shit, but Robbie said he’d take care of letting people know about us.
Telling people is not something I want to do, especially not solo, because I don’t want to deal with the smack talk.
Robbie is mine, and hearing people talk shit about him makes me ragey.
Only I’m allowed to do that.
Raymond goes racing past, that same slightly unhinged look on his face that I’ve noticed some of the other pledges wearing. “Did you see that?” I ask Zeke.
“You’re being paranoid.”
“I’m not.”
“When has Robbie ever kept you in the dark? If anything, he’s the first one to tell you his plans just to see how you’ll react.”
Zeke is right, but what he doesn’t know is it’s different now.
Robbie promised to calm down. No more pranks.
No more giving me shit to worry about. Maybe I should be worried about how naive it makes me that I believe him, but I’m determined to take him at his word.
Until he actually breaks his promise, I’ve made the conscious decision to trust him.
Consciously.
Trust.
Something I’m doing.
Then Shifley races into the room, looks around in a daze, and runs out again.
I exchange a look with Zeke. “Still think I’m being paranoid?”
“Okay, I’ll give you that one. That was odd.”
“I should probably check on him.” My words come out on a groan because I’m trying to study. Being risk manager is a twenty-four seven job, but occasionally I’d like to be able to focus on something else.
“Leave it,” Zeke says.
And while I might be risk manager, Zeke is president. Everything that happens in this house is on his head, so a fuckup might affect the whole fraternity, but he’s the one to take full impact. “You want me to leave it?”
“Yes.”
“A stressed pledge who looks like he doesn’t know where he is?”
He’s clearly unsure. “You have studying to do.”
“Okay, dude, but remember I asked.”
Zeke’s phone vibrates, and he stares at it for a moment.
“Bad message?”
“Just Chuck.”
“So yes, then?” I couldn’t imagine anything worse. “I think that guy has a hard-on for you. He never leaves you alone.”
Zeke lifts the eyebrow with the line shaved through the middle. “Maybe if my brothers weren’t always causing him headaches he wouldn’t need to blow up my phone all the time.”
“It’s totally an excuse. He’s got the hots for you. A little presidential hanky-pank? A VIP spank and wank?”
“You’ve been hanging out with Robbie too much.”
He’s not wrong. The more time we spend together, the more like my old self I feel. The pressure of making sure the house runs safely is still there, but I’m remembering to let go now and then, and I fucking like it.
I have no idea if Charles is queer or not—he’s about as private with his sex life as Zeke is—but in an objective way, Zeke is good-looking.
He’s got a hint of baby face that he tries to combat with his tattoos and hairstyle—always shaved around the sides and longer on top.
He’s got a laid-back, confident vibe about him, and even I can spot blow job lips when I see them.
But … I’m not attracted to him at all. Not him, or Chad, or Bailey.
Charles is a button-up preacher-boy-looking guy, and that doesn’t do it for me either.
I’ve looked up a few different definitions for what I could be, and even though Robbie seems to be the only guy who does it for me, apparently that still falls under the bi umbrella.
There are other terms like pansexual and demisexual, and if I’m honest, I fit into a few different definitions while also fitting into none.
Other than Robbie, I’m straight, but being with him shows I’m capable of falling for another guy.
I could be pan because it was his personality I was drawn to first. Or demi, because while Jenny was cool at first, the more annoyed she made me, the less I wanted to be physical with her, but it’s not like I couldn’t get it up when the time came.
For right now, labeling myself is the last thing I’m interested in. I only want to be with Robbie, and the rest I’m not going to lose sleep over.
Whereas he’s embraced the bi label like he’s making up for lost time.
“Hmm … Chuck said to go outside,” Zeke mutters.
“Nope. Total trap.” My phone lights up, and a message from Robbie fills the screen. “Actually, Robbie just said the same.”
Zeke rubs his smooth jaw. “Think the Kappas stole his phone?”
“No idea.”
We watch each other, thinking.
“Maybe we can look out the front window first?” Zeke suggests.
“Good plan.”
Only, when we reach the front window and look outside, all we can see is Robbie standing in the middle of the street.
“What the …”
Zeke shrugs. “No idea. Let’s see what the fuck is going on.”