Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Zeke
Iplant my hands on the table behind me and watch Charles try to take control of the room. It’s entertaining, at least, even if he’s shit out of luck at controlling any of them.
The Kappas are mostly behaving themselves, telling my guys to shut it whenever Charles attempts to get attention, but then one of the loudmouths—usually Robbie, to be fair—says something that lights a match under their asses.
I was right. This shit is interesting.
And they don’t even know why we’re here yet.
Larken leans in toward me. “Should I say something, or …?”
“Nah.” My gaze strays back to Charles. “Just give him another minute, and then I’ll jump in.”
And maybe it makes me a dick, but when Charles gets flustered, I can’t tear my eyes away.
These little red spots stain his cheeks, and his eyes burn …
well, whatever color they are. Everything about his dark-rimmed eyes, high cheekbones, and pouty lips make him look put together and in control … I love seeing him crumble.
I quickly hide my smile when Charles spins to me. “Really? You’re not going to say anything?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said you wanted to try.” I wave my hand toward the fifty or so guys filling the on-campus meeting room. “I’m waiting for you to get started.”
His eyes flash, and dammit, there’s my smile again.
“We decided this wasn’t our thing, remember? Now, are you going to help or not?”
Yikes. Since picking him up yesterday, he’s had a harder edge toward me than usual. When he gets annoyed, that’s usually all it is, but since yesterday, there’s a layer of true exasperation that he’s never directed toward me before.
I’d say I haven’t done anything, but that’s probably not true.
So instead of poking him some more, I decide to stop being a pain in the ass. I press my fingers to my lips and whistle loudly.
My merry band of miscreants falls quiet.
Charles stares for a moment. “Really?”
“I’ll accept a thank-you.”
He huffs and turns back to the room. “Now that you’re all listening, I can tell you why you’re here.”
“I swear to the frat forefathers, if you assholes are trying to pull off a prank while we’re out of the house, you’ll regret it,” Robbie says.
“What would be the point of that?”
“Who the hell knows with you lot?”
I watch Charles and Sam exchange a look that clearly projects what an asshole they think Robbie is. First, fuck the both of them for thinking that about my brother, and second … something dark slips past my attitude when Charles looks away and Sam keeps on watching him.
“There’d be no point,” Charles patiently explains. “Because we’re here to discuss a truce.”
Noise swells at that little bomb drop. Robbie scoffs, and some of the other guys laugh or tell Charles to go and fuck himself, but the Kappas aren’t quiet about the whole thing either.
Yep. This has gone about as well as I expected it to.
Larken shifts closer again. “Now do we say something?”
The panicked edge in his voice makes me laugh.
I clap his shoulder and go to join Charles.
There are a few people here not surprised by his news—namely Larken, Chad, and our next VP Rooster, plus whoever Charles has already filled in.
I probably should have given Robbie and Brandon the heads-up as well, but I haven’t seen the two of them until now.
“Shut the fuck up,” I bark, and it takes longer than my whistle, but the noise slowly dies off.
And look at that, even the Kappas listened to me.
Exhibit A on why the president has to be a halfway decent person.
That kind of power can go to any dude’s head.
“Believe it or don’t, we’re not trying to be the fun police here. It’s for a reason.”
“There’s no reason to get in bed with you lot,” Lucas says, pointedly looking at Bailey, who smirks right back.
“Other than it’s fun, you mean?”
It takes all my self-control not to tell them to grow up. “Tuck your dicks away, and drop the frattitude. The piss-ass attempt at a prank yesterday wasn’t us—I don’t give a shit what was carved up in your lawn.”
“We’ll believe that never,” Jordan says.
And it’s lucky Charles steps in before I can flip him off.
That would send our idea downhill fast. “It wasn’t them,” he says.
“They’ve always claimed their pranks before; there’s no reason for them to start denying it now.
Which means someone is setting them up. And it might be the same person or persons trying to drag them down on the Dirt. ”
“What are you talking about?” someone asks.
Charles takes a deep breath and flips on a projector screen, showing an image of both posts. It still sets my teeth on edge to see them up there like that.
Turns out it’s the most effective method for keeping these guys quiet yet.
“Look, I know half of us aren’t friends,” I say. “But we all respect the way shit is done on Greek Row. This whole thing is a wild card that we’ve never had to deal with before.”
“It’s only someone running their mouth,” Jordan says.
“Probably.” So far, that’s what it looks like. “But the problem is, if one of us fucks up, it gives this person ammunition.”
Charles nods. “It’s possible that our lawn this morning was part of it. A way for Anon7136 to create evidence to support these claims.”
“That seems far-fetched.” Lucas sends his glare my way. “People aren’t as obsessed with your house as you think.”
“And yet the evidence suggests otherwise.” Asshole.
“But whether we take this shit seriously or not, we’re officially in a truce.
No arguments, and anyone who breaks it is out on their ass.
” I look pointedly over at Chad and Robbie.
“There’s no reason to push this worthless gossip along, and with any luck, this shithead will get bored of us. ”
“Sorry,” Jordan says, looking at the screen. “But how do we know you didn’t do it? There are a lot of comments there.”
Charles steps between us. “Because they didn’t. They’re idiots, not assholes. And now, we’re all working together. We keep this quiet, divert any conversations you might hear about it, and if anyone is vocal about who’s behind this, you bring that news straight to me or Zeke.”
“But it has nothing to do with us,” Lucas argues.
“Of course it does. One frat house behaving badly will make everyone assume we’re all that way. We need to keep our heads down and stay focused.”
“Sounds boring as fuck,” Robbie grumbles.
“But if it keeps the frat open …” That’s all I need to point out to keep the big guy on board. The idea of the Sigma Beta Psi brotherhood not being there in years to come is a top-tier crime to him.
“I don’t think this is the right angle.” Brandon’s frowning, staring at the side of Robbie’s face, before he turns to me.
“We still have a frat to run and pledges to train. We still have to pay dues—how do we do that without another one or two big parties? We can’t completely turn ourselves off and run and hide. That’s not us.”
“This isn’t about fun.” Those splotchy circles are popping up on Charles’s cheeks again. “This is serious.”
“I know it’s serious. I’m not saying it isn’t. But what you’re suggesting is a passive approach, and I don’t think that’s the best option.”
“Well, Zeke and I decided—”
I sling my arm around Charles’s shoulders. “Relax, dude. That was one option. Let Brando say what he wants to say, and we’ll talk it through.”
I can feel his glare on the side of my face, but I ignore it.
“So, like I was saying. We can act like we have something to hide, or we can remind people around here what we’re actually good for.
Our philanthropy is mostly on the down low—why not shove in people’s faces how much good we do for the community?
Fundraisers and events—big ones—are a good place to start … ”
Robbie perks up. “Oooh, we could do a Great Greek Row Bake-Off. Shut down the street and charge entry, get some music, some prizes …”
Brandon points at him. “I’m concerned with how fast you came up with that, but yes. That’s exactly what I mean. Things that will generate conversation and get us on the dean’s radar for good. So if all this shit tries to blow up, we have a buffer.”
And this is why each fraternity has a group of executives—no way would I have considered that. We’re all good at what we do, and Brandon’s got a mind for how to manage risks.
I hold up a finger. “We’ll be right back.”
My arm is still around Charles’s shoulders as I steer him away from the others. I already know which way my vote is going to go, and judging by the rise of voices in the room, most people are discussing it.
“That’s kinda brilliant,” I say as soon as we’re out of earshot.
Charles shrugs me off. “And a lot of work. What happened to our only focuses being school and figuring out who this Anon7136 is?”
“And those will be our focuses. We have full houses of brothers who can run the fundraising side of things. They can run their ideas by Larken and Sam, and if those two have any concerns, that’s when they bring it to us.
You know how much people like a scandal, so this thing will get out.
Why not give everyone something else to be talking about? ”
Charles’s attention is on the floor as he thinks. “I … I don’t …”
“You look stressed, dude.”
“Aren’t you?”
“It is what it is. Either we roll over and let this thing fuck us sideways with a cactus, or we inadvertently fight back.”
“My head hurts.” He rubs his temples, and I notice for the first time how long and slender his fingers are. No wonder they feel so good wrapped around my—nope.
“Come on … it’s a good idea.”
He sighs. “I’m going to regret this.”
“Yes.” I fist pump, but he doesn’t look any happier about the situation. Little does he know that if my brothers are focused on … whatever their ideas are, they’ll be less likely to get antsy over pranks.
Charles turns to head back to the group, but on a whim, I grab the back of his shirt and tug him to me. I lean into his ear—not too close because of all the people around—and drop my voice. “You know … I can help with all that stress. If you want me to.”
He jerks out of my hold and spins, eyes wide. For once, I have no clue what’s going on in his head other than total shock.
“Chuck—”
He’s gone before I can say more, telling the others that we agree with Brandon and we’ll plan a bunch of things together. Then before anyone can ask a question or get his attention, he grabs his bag and leaves.
Well, I guess that’s my answer, then.
I’d kick myself, but I don’t get a second before my brothers are crowded around, running through ideas and sneering at Charles for leaving so fast.
I tell Larken to run point, but even with him handling the bulk, we don’t get out of there for another hour.
I’m torn.
Sulk and curse Charles for not being interested or hunt him down to apologize for crossing that line?
Because yeah, I want sex again, but … I’d sort of been hoping that we could have that without the games.
There’s no more anonymity. Could I do it?
Touch? See? Feel? What does Charles look like as he comes?
What would his cock feel like in my hand?
What do his curls look like sliding through my fingers?
My nerves are at maximum level, heart pounding erratically.
But before I can decide how to play this, I pull out my phone and find a message waiting that I’ve sent a bunch of times myself and never once received back.
Charles:
Hush Hush 11