Chapter 2 #2
My gaze drifted across the field to said psycho Barbie, skipping from her blond ponytail to her over-made face to her top that was way too small for all that cleavage, just before she did a backflip.
There was no way in hell I was sinking my dick into that girl again.
She’d probably poke holes in the condom and try to baby-trap my ass.
“Why the hell did you let her sign up for the auction?”
Petey held up a hand. “I didn’t know we had a criteria.”
“I didn’t think I needed to say no batshit psychos.”
“Stop bitching, Wolf,” Rogue said, plucking the joint from my hand.
“She’s crazy, but she’s hot as hell. Hot, crazy girls get bids.
” He stared across the field and took a deep inhale.
“My advice, though. Don’t bid on anyone else if you value your life.
” Smoke billowed from his mouth when he laughed.
I wasn’t bidding on any of those girls. The entire auction thing was stupid—paying for the privilege of spending time with a girl. One who evidently wanted to be bought. It screamed, “Pick me.” Not my thing.
The cheerleaders jogged over to the sidelines to grab their waters. Megan’s gaze landed on me. A way-too-big smile spread across her face before she skipped across the grass toward us.
Petey chuckled. “Ah, she’s hungry for cock…”
“Hey, Wolf.” She stopped in front of me with an unnecessary bounce that caused her massive tits to bob. “I’m excited for the frat’s auction in a few weeks.”
The guys chuckled. Rogue snorted before passing the joint back to me.
I took a puff, staring at her through the wisps of smoke. “You’re looking forward to being sold off like cattle?”
That smile of hers fell. “I mean, I…” She stammered for a moment, her gaze bouncing between our group. “It’s for a good cause.” And the peppy-ass, slightly psychotic smile was back. “I’m always happy to be part of a cause.”
That cause being a fundraiser for our frat’s “charity”—Save the Endangered Spheniscus demersus, better known as the jackass penguin.
The penguin was actually endangered, but the poor fuckers never saw a cent from the funds we raised, which tended to be a lot.
People evidently loved those waddling, flightless birds…
The charity was just a way for us to launder our drug money.
Rogue leaned over to pat her shoulder. “And without kind-hearted, big-breasted people like you, those unfortunate creatures would face an untimely demise.”
Petey lost his shit, doubling over on pot-driven cackles.
Megan dragged the toe of her sneaker across the grass, giving me a look I bet she thought screamed demure. It didn’t. She looked like a battered alley cat in heat, tail twitching and legs shaking. “I’d be honored if you’d bid on me, Wolf.”
Honored? What a load of horseshit. “My dick could rot off before I’d bid on your crazy ass.”
“Do me a favor, blondie.” Holding out the clipboard, Rogue nodded to the cheerleader-riddled sidelines. “Why don’t you go over there and talk some of your friends in to signing up?”
She took the clipboard. “Sure.”
“Megan!” One of the other Red Bull-charged peppy nightmares shouted. “Come on. We have to practice the half-time routine.”
She leaned over, her blond hair slapping my face when I dodged the kiss she tried to plant on my cheek. “See you later, Wolf.”
I flipped her off as she skipped off across the field, sign-up forms in hand.
“You have a type.” Rogue’s hand clapped my shoulder. “Jason Voorhees. Mental Megan.” He chuckled. “I’ll be disappointed when one of them kills you and keeps your rotting corpse. I promise to—” His phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, groaned, then put it to his ear. “What do you want, Cassie?”
Cassie, his on-again-off-again girlfriend, was another one tolling the batshit-crazy bell.
Rogue’s gaze drifted to me. “I’m not Wolf’s keeper!” He got to his feet, arguing with her about the car I’d stolen as he walked back toward his Range Rover.
There was only one reason Cassie would be asking about that car. Jade.
Was I an asshole for taking that car? Yes.
Did I care? Absolutely not.
I found a small sliver of satisfaction in knowing it had evidently gotten underneath Jade’s skin enough for her to sic Cassie on Rogue.
The cheerleaders’ chant echoed across the field. “Yell loud and proud. Go…”
Megan screeched, “Wolf!” in response.
I didn’t even bother to glance in her direction.
“Seriously, man.” Petey snorted. “Teach me thy ways, oh, master.”
“What ways?”
“You treat girls like crap, and they’re still crazy over you.”
Because I somehow only ended up bagging the crazy ones. At least recently…
Petey nudged my side. “What in the hell is that asshole doing here?”
I followed his gaze to the other side of the field. The vice president of Kappa Theta, Winston, strutted across the tall grass in all his stupid-ass loafers. His pressed, collared shirt was neatly tucked into a pair of slacks. He looked like he belonged on a sailboat.
“Fuck…” I mumbled.
If Rogue saw him, after I’d told him Cassie had been at that frat, it would start a fight I wasn’t in the mood for. Rogue hated every single member of that stupid frat just because they were associated with Tommy.
I stared in disbelief as the idiot continued straight toward us.
“He has a death wish,” Petey mumbled.
Winston gave the cheerleaders a fleeting glance before he stopped in front of Petey.
“What the fuck do you want?” I said.
“We, uh…” Winston’s pale cheeks washed a little pink, his nervous attention pinging between the three of us. “We want to buy some pills.”
“We?” I said, lifting a brow.
“The frat.” He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, his hand shaking when he held it out. “I have cash.” No small amount, either.
My focus drifted from the money to his stupid face. “What the hell does this look like to you? A fucking McDonald’s drive-thru?”
“Come on, Wolf.” His hand fell to his side. “I know you guys supply the other frats. We just want a good party. Same as the rest of you.”
“And you think I give a shit about your parties?”
The gate behind us creaked, followed by the clang of metal. Winston’s gaze shot in the direction of the noise. His face went stark white, and he took a cautious step back. Followed by another. At least he wasn’t completely stupid.
“You…” Rogue rounded the bench, his finger pointed angrily at the dipshit. “Can fuck off! I told you before, your pussy-ass frat isn’t getting any pills.”
Winston froze like a memorial statue erected in honor of all entitled pricks who had come before him. “Come on, man.” His voice cracked. “You know, Tommy thought you’d broken up.”
Oh, wrong thing to say. Wrong thing to say… I bit the inside of my lip, waiting for Rogue to throw a punch. To my surprise, he dropped beside me on the bench.
“It has nothing to do with that.” It had everything to do with that shit. The flick of a lighter sounded. “I just don’t like your fucking frat.”
Lifting a brow, I turned to look at the billboard of petty, the blue sky behind him, sun shining.
“Seriously, dude?” I leaned closer to Rogue.
“We could make so much more money…” I whispered in a mocking tone.
If he was willing to piss off Gator for the extra money he didn’t need, he couldn’t cherry pick clients.
Rogue’s eye twitched. “I don’t do business with shitheads.” He motioned toward Winston, still frozen a few feet away, money clutched in his hand. Rogue stood. The moment he took one menacing step forward, Winston took off, blades of grass kicking up in his wake.
A boom of laughter left our group as we watched the little rich boy flee.
“Seriously, dude,” I said, thumbing toward the cowardly cum stain. “He had cash. You are the second pettiest person I’ve met in my life.”
Hendrix Hunt would always hold first place in that regard…
“It’s called a smart business decision.” He tapped his temple. “Tommy is an untrustworthy asshole who would rat us out in a second.”
“All those frat assholes are untrustworthy. We still supply them.” Trust tended to be bought when they knew breaking it would result in a baseball bat to the knees.
“You know why Tommy was valedictorian of his wannabe-prep school? Because he paid off the proctor during final exams to accuse the competition of cheating.”
Jesus, him and his idea of corruption. Bellamy used to sell old exams to students in high school, and we all gave him shit for being a good Samaritan. Paying off someone to lie was literally nothing.
“We have a fake penguin charity to deal drugs and clean our money, for fuck’s sake,” I said.
“That’s not even close to the same thing.” Rogue ashed his joint, his attention drifting to the cheerleaders. “He’s a snake. Theta Kappa won’t get shit from us.”
Rogue’s not wanting to sell to that frat had nothing to do with Tommy being a “snake,” and everything to do with his ego.
Not that I could talk.
Mine had me stealing that Challenger and risking jail time.