Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Charles
Ijolt awake at the sound of a door hitting the wall and sit up blinking in a tired haze. I’m expecting an emergency. Fire, maybe?
But there is no fire.
Instead, I seem to be hallucinating Zeke Ariston standing in the middle of my bedroom. My cock gives a twitch, and suddenly, I know exactly where the fire is. I hurry to check my sheets are covering me, then turn back to him, trying to get my usual annoyance in place.
It’s too early though. And Zeke looks really, really good.
Oh. And angry.
Probably should have noticed that first.
“What the fuck, Chuck?”
My brain is scrambling to come up with a pithy retort, but internally, I’m swooning. I might never have wanted to become president of Rho Kappa Tau, but I can’t deny it has its perks.
I should hate the pranks his house pulls on mine more than I do.
Although … normally, I’m the one yelling at him.
Surely this isn’t a delayed reaction to last night?
I cock my head. “What’s going on here?”
He glowers and tosses me his phone, which I try—and fail—to catch without looking like a total moron in front of him. Not that he shouldn’t know how cruelly uncoordinated I am by now.
His screen is open to a page on … the Dirt? I try not to sigh at the ridiculous, gossipy site. Why anyone would want to spend their time on there is beyond me.
I muster up my annoyance. “Really? You barge into my room at …” My eyeballs almost shoot from my skull. “Six thirty in the morning to show me some stupid nonsense on a site that isn’t worth the bandwidth it takes to load it?”
He crosses his arms casually, looking down at me with that familiar, almost bored expression on his baby face. I’m not sure if he actually thinks I’m beneath him or if it’s a mask for something more, but my fantasies get creative with that look. So creative my flagpole problem hasn’t waned.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” he says in that slow, deep voice. “But it won’t work.”
Okay, now I’m actually annoyed. “What are you talking about?”
“The post.”
“Which post?”
He nods at his phone. “The one you’re holding in your hand.”
“What are you …” I squeeze my eyes closed for a second to try and focus my vision and turn to whatever it is that’s brought Zeke to my room at—I stifle a moan—six freaking thirty.
The more I read, the more alert I become, until I’m about ready to jump out of my bed and storm the damn row over these blatant lies.
“Hazing?” I practically shriek. “What the hell is this?”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me.”
Realization slowly sinks in.
He thinks this was me?
Me being annoyed at him, totally acceptable. Because I never am for real, and I also know he finds me entertaining.
But him being annoyed with me? Over something I didn’t do? Unacceptable!
I throw off my covers and jump to my feet. “You better not be implying this was me.”
He cocks an eyebrow—the one with the line shaved through it, my weakness—but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. Whenever we’re together, he’s always cool as a fucking cucumber. It drives me crazy.
It turns me on.
“Seriously, that’s messed up.”
“About as messed up as you trying to get us shut down.” Zeke takes a step closer, and I catch a hint of the body spray he uses.
It’s fresh, like a blast of cool air to my senses, but doesn’t quite cover the permanent scent of chlorine that surrounds him.
“Is this because of—” He cuts off, but his eyes flick up and lock on mine for a split second before he looks away.
He was going to mention our hookups. I know it. My pulse is dialed up to a thousand over the thought of him admitting everything we’ve shared together.
But he moves on. “It’s not going to work. You know why?”
“Because I didn’t do it?”
“Because first of all, only bored housewives and middle-class men with a Napoleon complex use this site, and second, you can ask whoever the hell you want, we don’t haze.
You can’t pin something on us with no evidence, and if you think we’re going to take this shit lying down, you obviously haven’t learned anything about my brothers. ”
“Whoa, stop for a second.” I hold up my hands, and he plucks his phone from my grip. “I don’t know why you’re assuming it was me, and after our long history working together, Zeke, frankly, I’m offended.”
One corner of his full, pink lips kicks up. “You’re offended?”
“Very, very offended.”
“Interesting the effect that has on your body.” Zeke’s gaze drops and, to my horror, lands on my very erect cock.
Oh, goddamn forgot I was naked.
I will not give him the power here.
Ah … anymore.
I snatch a pillow from my bed and shove it in front of my groin. “As I was saying!” Holy shit, my cheeks are getting hot. “You can’t barge into a man’s bedroom and start throwing around such wild accusations. I’ll have you know—”
“Parameters.”
That one word, spoken with such confidence and meaning, makes me stall.
But I don’t understand. Does he want to set some?
Because I can think of one very obvious boundary we could implement, but …
there’s something about the way he’s eyeing me that makes me think that isn’t it. “I don’t understand.”
“You fucked up.” Zeke shakes his phone. “‘Parameters’ is basically your go-to word, and you used it again in this. You outed yourself, dude. I thought Kappas were meant to be smart.”
“That’s where this is coming from?” I don’t even know where to start. “You think I’m the only person in the world who uses that word?”
“Maybe not, but you’re the only frat brother who does.”
“Who says this is a frat brother at all?”
Zeke narrows his eyes. “Who else would give enough of a shit to post something like this?”
“You can’t actually believe it was me.”
“Why? Because you love me and my brothers so much?”
“Because … because …” Dammit, he’s got me there. In all fairness, I would be the most likely candidate. “It just wasn’t, okay?”
“Convincing.”
“You said it yourself. You can’t pin something on me with no evidence.”
“I have evidence. It might be flimsy, but it’s more than you have on the alleged hazing.”
“It wasn’t me.” I force myself to take a breath.
“When one of us is under the microscope, we’re all under the microscope.
No one on Greek Row is going to pull something like this because an accusation against one fraternity becomes a media nightmare where they villainize us all.
” Not to mention how hard-core in lust with you I am.
Zeke’s eyes narrow.
“Furthermore,” I say, “I don’t even have an account, anonymous or otherwise, on the Dirt.”
The way he looks me over makes me think that he actually wants to believe me. And why wouldn’t he when we’ve always had such a rock-solid relationship?
I mean, yes, his frat house gets on my nerves, because seriously, they’re all a bunch of testosterone-filled man-children, but when it comes to presidential duties, we work together.
The other Sigmas might not know ethics if it was slapping them in the face with a giant pink dildo, but Zeke has a moral compass. He does what’s right.
It’s why I have so much respect for him, despite everything. It’s why I made the ridiculous offer that started our Hush Hush meetups in the first place.
“So … maybe you make some compelling arguments,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“It doesn’t mean I believe you.”
I let out a loud sigh and drop onto the side of my bed. “What’s it going to take?”
“You putting on some clothes would be a start.”
Figures. I internally eye roll, wishing he’d offered to take off some clothes instead.
Never going to happen, Charles.
Not in broad daylight. Hell, probably never again.
I fish some underwear out of a drawer and pull them on. “Better?”
“Depends. When you remove that pillow, are you going to have Excalibur ready to greet me again?”
Instead of answering, I aim the pillow at his head and cross to my closet for actual clothes.
He doesn’t leave while I get dressed, and considering he just saw my hard-on, I should be a whole lot less embarrassed by that thought than I am.
Instead of playing it cool though, my neck heats, and it takes me three attempts to get my pants on.
Fuck my life.
Today is going to be a day.
“Were you waiting on something?” I ask, hoping he’ll get the hint and leave.
“Just wondering what other things you’ll do to make me believe you.”
I plant my hands on my hips and turn to face him. “Why would I care if you believe me or not?”
“Because you hate being the bad guy.”
“I’m always the bad guy. At least to you Sigmas.”
“I’ve never thought you were a bad guy, but what the hell am I supposed to think now?”
That response steals the words from right out of my mouth. “Excuse me?”
“Overdramatic, maybe, but not bad.”
“And yet you were willing to believe that I’d do something like try to get your house into shit.”
He shrugs. “Honestly, I’m struggling to picture you doing something so underhanded, but come on. Do you blame me?”
Hmph. “I’m telling you, I didn’t do it.”
“Who did, then?”
“It was anonymous. How am I meant to know that? Although if I did give you a name, it would prove I knew and therefore make me equally as guilty, so of course I’d deny it …” I frown, trying to work out if I defended myself or proved his point.
Based on his laughter, I’d say it was the second one.
I throw my hands up. “I’ve told you it wasn’t me and why it would be stupid for me to post it. If you don’t believe that, there’s nothing else I can do.”
“You could help me find who did.”
Urg. That sounds exactly like the type of headache I don’t need right now. “I’m going to pass on that, but thank you for the offer.”
“Not helping makes you look guilty …”
“It’s not on me how it looks. Besides, weren’t you saying that no one will even see it on there, so you’re not worried?”
Zeke rubs his jaw, the cocky disinterest fading. “Something about it feels off.”
“Of course it does. How dare someone not like the great Sigma Beta Psis.”
“Fuck you.” He says the words through a smile, and I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.
“I need to get ready for class,” I say.
“Fine.” He walks to the door. “Hey, one more thing.”
“What?”
The slow grin that curls his lips makes me all fluttery. “You sleep naked?”
“Yes, and?” I hate how breathless I sound and how desperately I’m hoping he’ll mention something, anything about last night. It kills me not to know what he thinks about it. He’s so … impossible to read.
“How don’t your brothers all use that to their advantage?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know …” He pauses in the doorway. “While you’re sleeping. Wax in your pubes … steal all your clothes … throw water over you and film you jumping out of bed …”
What is he … “What the hell do you guys do in your house?”
He gives me a sheepish smile.
“Jesus, Zeke. No, we don’t do any of those things. Around here, we knock. I’d appreciate you remembering that next time.” I push him out the door and hurry to close it, then fake-sob in frustration over what a pathetic idiot I am.