Second Serves and First Times (East Coast Matches #2)

Chapter 1 Ben

BEN

Nate has the new pledges eating out of the palm of his hand as he stands at the head of the meeting room and gives them the welcome speech.

“A fraternity is about brotherhood. It’s about supporting each other, while also holding one another accountable so we can be our best.”

I scan the faces in the room, each one giving Nate their full attention.

A mix of excitement and trepidation. When my gaze lands on Jamie Rosenthal, I pause, noting the extra trepidation on his face, the way he keeps biting the nail on his thumb and pushing the bridge of his thick-rimmed glasses up like it’s some sort of ritual.

I have to remind myself not to judge him by his brother’s behavior.

Priestley Rosenthal was my fraternity president last year, and despite some good qualities, he was also kind of an ass—at least he was to me.

I could be wrong, but Jamie lacks Priestley’s air of entitlement.

He isn’t looking around like he owns everyone and everything in the room—as if we bore him.

He catches me studying him and blushes before looking away.

“For the next few weeks, we will put you guys through your paces to see if you’re the right fit for Alpha Sigma Psi,” Nate continues.

“But also, this is your chance to see if Alpha Sig is the right fit for you. We want to know that you take your place here seriously. That’s the core of pledging: determining if you measure up for brotherhood, determining if this suits your aspirations.

Of course we’ll have fun, too, but being in a frat isn’t all parties and shirtless car washes. ”

Nate gets a few laughs from that. Jamie Rosenthal turns pale. I have to stop myself from jumping in to reassure him that no one will force him to take his shirt off.

Nate splits the group up to pair the pledges with their big bros.

“These will be the brothers who look out for you. You go to them if you have any problems. Any problems.”

The pledges nod. They’re all so wide-eyed and eager to impress.

God, I remember being like that.

Nate turns to me with a warm, familiar smile, and I have to stop a goofy expression from spreading across my face.

Okay, so maybe I still am.

“Ben is our vice president. He helps run the frat daily and is also our financial wizard. He keeps our expenses in order and manages our funds. That includes mixers and other fun activities.”

A few of the pledges glance at each other. He said there was going to be fun, right?

“Ben’s birthday party, in fact, is one of those fun things we’re planning.”

My cheeks get hot from the attention. I hope none of the pledges have noticed. The last impression I want to make as Vice President is ‘blusher.’

“And I don’t want you to worry about pledge week.” Nate adds. “There will be no hazing or anything like that here. And if you hear about any other pledges in other fraternities experiencing anything even resembling hazing …”

Archer coughs and it sounds suspiciously like “Kappa.”

“ … I want you to come to me, Ben, or one of your big bros and report it. It’s not snitching if someone’s being an asshole. Got it?”

There are a few nervous titters at Nate’s curse before they all nod and murmur their agreement.

Nate lets Archer and Miles take over with the pledges. Their first task is to go to the grocery store and collect our huge weekly grocery list and bring it all back here by the time our house cook shows up for the evening meal.

I can’t help but smile at how enthusiastic the pledges are—gearing up for the weekly grocery haul like they’re about to go into a locked room mystery.

The only one who hangs back and doesn’t seem as pumped is Jamie.

I make a mental note to talk to Archer—Jamie’s big bro and co-pledge master—about keeping a special eye on him.

I know Archer didn’t exactly love Priestley, either, but I’m sure even he’s mature enough to refrain from taking it out on Priestley’s little brother.

Nate guides me out of the room by the elbow, waiting until we’re in the reasonable privacy of the kitchen before he talks.

“That went well, I think.” His hand is trembling as he loosens his tie and undoes the top button on his shirt. “What do you think? It went well, right?”

How could Nate ever be self-conscious? He’s like … perfect in every way. I swallow, try to ignore the lump in my throat.

“It went really well. You did great.”

The tension in his shoulders drops. “Yeah?”

“Yes!”

“Phew.” He laughs. “I’m sweating like a pig.”

“You had them hanging on your every word. And they seem like a good bunch.”

“They do, right? This is going to be our best year. We’re in charge of the funds, the causes we support, how we do it … it’s time for Alpha Sig to start giving back, like seriously giving back, not just paying lip service.”

I nod. We’ve already started changing things around here, the first being the criteria for new recruits.

Under Priestley, family money and connections were paramount.

But under me and Nate, the main criteria are enthusiasm and personality.

Of course we want a good mix of talents and skills, but there are a few guys pledging Alpha Sigma Psi this year who would have never made the cut under Priestley—and we’re proud of that.

“I’m almost sad this is our senior year,” Nate says. “We won’t get to enjoy the frat as it is now.”

Something twists in my stomach. When we graduate this summer and move out of the house, Nate will be moving in with his boyfriend. We’ll never live together again.

“I know, but at least we’ll leave it in a better place for the next guys.”

Nate nods, his frown turning into a sly smile.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Remember when we were scared little pledges? Now look at us— President and Vice President of the fraternity.”

With a big sigh, he leans his elbows on the counter. I instinctively look away, knowing how good his butt looks in his dress pants and not wanting to torture myself.

“Hey, I thought we could go out tonight,” he says.

“Who?”

“Just us. We could check out that gay bar we haven’t been to yet.” Nate already has his phone out, looking the bar up on Google.

I suppress a groan at the thought of standing in another gay bar while Nate points out random men and asks me what I think.

He’s only being a good friend. And I know he promised to find me a boyfriend, but jeez, I wish I could tell him to give it a rest. I can’t even tell him the real reason why I’m not interested in any of those guys.

When he looks at me again, his face is so full of expectation, I can’t find it in my heart to say no.

“Sure,” I say. “Sounds fun.”

There’s a chill in the air as we wait in line for Extasy. Google said it was one of the premier gay bars in the area. Fridays are themed music nights. Tonight is Beyoncé.

Nate drove us over so we don’t have to worry about getting home, and even though he said he doesn’t mind if I drink, I’m not going to leave him sober alone. So that means I now have to endure a loud bar without even a slight buzz.

Nate gets a few admiring glances while he shivers in the line, wrapping his jacket around himself and bouncing on the toes of his new sneakers.

With that preppy frat boy look down to a T, he looks so good it hurts.

The only thing he’s missing right now is a polo and his snapback and he could have stepped right out of one of those old Abercrombie ads I used to—ahem—‘look at’ when I first discovered I was attracted to men.

Even if I was remotely interested in picking up some stranger in a bar, there’s no way they’d even notice me standing next to him.

A guy with muscles like a Mr. Olympia winner comes over and offers his coat to Nate. A weird sensation buzzes under my skin as I watch the interaction. Nate’s shy blush as he politely declines, telling Mr. Olympia he has a boyfriend. Mr. Olympia’s confused glance in my direction.

“This the lucky guy?” he asks.

My heart sinks. He makes me sound like a lottery winner or something. I know Nate’s out of my league, but is it really that obvious?

“No, this is Ben—a friend.” Nate says. His beaming, friendly smile never slides out of place. “My boyfriend isn’t here tonight.”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Olympia completely ignores me as he takes a step closer to Nate—practically pushing me out of the way. “Well, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

The friendly smile drops from Nate’s face. “Sorry, but I’m not a cheater,” he pushes through gritted teeth.

Mr. Olympia keeps smiling as he shrugs. “Worth a try. Have a nice night, boys.”

“That guy.” Nate shakes his head as Mr. Olympia squares his shoulders and walks away. I envy that guy’s confidence. He just walked right up to a hot guy and came onto him. When the guy said no, he didn’t even flinch. I could never.

I’m about to ask Nate if he’s sure he wants to be here tonight—I’d almost rather be at home with my noise cancelling headphones on while he has sex with Evan in the room next door—when the couple ahead of us are let in and it’s finally our turn to face the bouncer.

“IDs,” he says.

I wish I’d left mine at home—with my baby face we’d definitely be turned away. But Nate distinctly reminded me to put it in my pocket before we left the house, so I can’t even pretend.

The second we step inside, I’m overwhelmed by the bass booming from the speakers, the strobe lights flashing across the dance floor, and the fog omitting a weird, chemical smell.

Nate puts a hand on my shoulder and leans close so I can hear him over “Single Ladies.” I try to ignore the familiar scent of his spicy cologne as it fills my nostrils.

I especially try to ignore the way it sends a jolt straight to the lower regions of my body.

“Want something to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.”

I’m about to follow him to the bar when he tells me to stay put. He mouths something to me with a grin as he walks backward, the crowd of men parting for him. I think he’s saying “mingle.”

Mingle? How the heck am I supposed to do that?

I do my best to look natural, but I feel like I’m in the way. People jostle me on their way to the bar or the dancefloor. And when Nate comes back with two bottles of water, I’m leaning against the wall, trying to be invisible.

He leans in again—this time I hold my breath.

“What are you doing hiding over here? Your dream man isn’t going to find you lurking in the shadows.”

He might, though. Maybe that’s exactly what my dream man would do? That’s what you did. No, stop.

Nate bops to the music as “Single Ladies” transitions into “Sweet Dreams.” This isn’t Nate’s kind of music. He prefers moody acoustic songs and emo rock bands Evan teases him over. He’s being a good friend by being here and pretending to enjoy himself—for me.

I sip my water and try to force myself to have a good time.

“Hey, what about him?” Nate points out a guy at the bar who’s been looking over since we arrived.

“He’s looking at you,” I tell Nate.

“No, not necessarily.”

Yes, necessarily.

“Anyway, all you need is an introduction. You can entice him from there.”

I have never enticed anyone from anywhere. Surely Nate knows that?

Nate nods in the guy’s direction and he starts weaving his way through the crowd with a seductive smile. I’m just glad the music is loud enough to drown out my groan.

“Hey,” the guy shouts over the music, glancing at me from the corner of his eye like he’s scoping out the competition.

Evidently, he finds it lacking, because he leans boldly toward Nate and says something in his ear.

His t-shirt is stuck to his lean, muscular frame and I catch a hint of sweat and strong cologne as he leans across me like I’m not even there.

He pulls away, listening with a glint of promise in his eyes, and though I know Nate is about to turn down whatever proposition this guy just whispered in his ear, I can’t take another second of it.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I say, not hanging around to see if anyone heard.

I don’t know if Nate’s following. As much as I hope he isn’t, I’m sure he is. I don’t look back as I find the gender-neutral bathrooms and pass a group of people applying makeup at the mirrors until I find an empty stall.

I have enough time to put my head in my hands and take some deep breaths before Nate comes looking for me. He calls my name a few times before his sneakers appear under the stall door. They disappear again and I sigh.

“Hey, excuse me, have you seen a guy come in here?”

“I’ve seen lots of guys come in here,” someone says. Other people giggle. I imagine Nate smiling at everyone, charming their pants off. “This one’s really cute.”

My insides twist in ten different directions. Please stop, I want to run out and tell him. You don’t have to say that. I know you don’t really believe it. It’s okay.

“If he was that cute, I would have remembered him,” someone says.

My stomach drops.

“Well, maybe you weren’t paying attention,” Nate bites back. A hint of snark behind the humor. Everyone laughs. Of course Nate is charming enough to make a snarky comment and have everyone love it.

Taking a deep breath, I open the stall door and face the music.

“There you are!” Nate’s face lights up. I hold onto that sight. Push out how terrible it’s going to make me feel later, when he’s with Evan and I’m alone. Right now he’s happy to see me and that’s all that matters.

“Come on,” Nate says. “Let’s get out of here.”

The sky is full of dark clouds. Rain batters the roof of Nate’s SUV. I tune into the sound of the window wipers squeaking across the windshield and the low hum of Nate’s music playing quietly in the background as he drives us home.

“Sorry tonight was a bit of a bust,” he says as he takes the turn onto Greek Row.

Nate tuts as we pass Kappa House, where they’re throwing a party. There’s a roll of toilet paper discarded across their lawn and someone’s throwing up in a bush while two people make out amidst the debris of crushed cans and Solo cups.

“It’s okay,” I say as I pick absentmindedly at the vinyl sealing the window.

“Ben, I promise I will find you a boyfriend. We just have to be patient, but—”

“Nate,” I cut him off and glance at his big eyes in the mirror. The last thing I want is to seem ungrateful. But I wish I could tell him I don’t need his pity. In fact, it makes me feel like crap.

“Yeah?” he asks when I fail to say anything.

“Nothing. I was just gonna say thanks.”

His face softens.

“You don’t have to thank me. That’s what friends are for.”

My heart sinks as Nate switches off the engine.

Yeah right, friends.