by Lyla Payne
I slam the door and watch the bright yellow sedan until it turns the corner, slimy tentacles leaving sucker-sized sores on my veins. Confusion muddles guilt with irritation, shame, and discomfort until it’s impossible to define how I feel about Jocelyn’s reentrance into my life just before Christmas.
But the fact that I have screwed myself so hard as far as getting a job that doesn’t center around kissing Teddy Rowland’s ass would be a problem whether my mother was part of the equation or not.
Quinn moved on—proved himself, as hard as that is to admit. The difference between him and me are plentiful, though, starting with the fact that he’s Teddy’s legitimate son and ending with the sad fact that Quinn’s good at what he does. He loves working in communications, and with his background in professional tennis he has plenty of contacts to make it on his own if our father chooses pride over money (he won’t).
My one true love is manipulation. Setting up the pieces on the board and planning moves ten steps ahead, baiting traps that spring at the most advantageous time. Knowing all the details about the lives of anyone who might help me or get in my way. It’s what I’m good at, it’s what makes me feel alive. Politics feels like a natural fit, but I can’t do it for free. Not forever.
There are plenty of kids on campus who come from political families, but in order for them to trust me, I’ve got to at least appear to lament my actions. My lips twist in a grimace, and I shake my head, wishing I could dislodge the idea. Erasing three and a half years of behavior in less than four months could prove an impossible task, even for me, and it’s embarrassing, really, to think I’ve been so shortsighted. I figured being Teddy Rowland’s dirty little secret would be enough for me.
Turns out it’s not. It makes me hate myself, wanting more, like every other stupid starry-eyed dreamer scurrying around campus.
The frat house feels empty, my sticky footsteps echoing in the empty space, furniture pushed into the sunroom and the chapter room after last night’s after-bar. The pledges are slacking. It should have been cleaned and put back together before they left for class this morning. I’ve been at the beach house for the last couple of nights because solitude keeps me sane, but no one else keeps tabs on the lazy freshman assholes in my absence.
Hardly any seniors live in the house—just Toby Wright and myself at the moment, because we’re sitting officers of Sigma Epsilon Alpha. Another form of control, and something that actually looks decent on my résumé.
I shove open the door to my room, the only one on the third floor, and yank loose my tie, flinging it onto the bed before a toss of fire-red hair catches my eye.
She gives me a thin smile. “Hello, Sebastian.”
Chapter Two
Sebastian
It burns to admit when people startle me. Get the jump on me. But the sight of her slender frame, accentuated by an emerald green sweater and tight-fitting jeans, her red hair shining in the light from the lamp on my desk, force me to emit a rather unmanly squeak. That alone makes me want to throw her out, but if being the mastermind of Whitman all these years has taught me anything, it’s to never send people away until you figure out how they can be of use.
Audra Stuart has been introduced to me twice and, given her third-party association with my half brother and his girlfriend, has thus far refused to soil herself by speaking with me.
I manage to get my shit together and shrug out of my coat, hanging it up in my color-coded closet, keeping my movements measured and calm. “How did you get in here?”
She gives me a look, twisting her lips to drive home the point that she thinks I’m an idiot. “It’s a frat house, Sebastian. The problem for girls usually comes when they want to get out.”
Audra’s sense of humor startles a chuckle from my belly, even though she may or may not have been making a joke. My laugh sounds dusty, unused, leaving me to wonder when I last used it unironically. “Fair point. Perhaps the better question is why are you here?”
I heard that she left school early before Christmas and that she hasn’t started any of her classes this semester, of course. Those kinds of things don’t escape me.
Especially when I’m one of three people—including her—who knows the reason why.
What I don’t know is why Little Miss Unwilling Porn Star has decided to call on me her first day back on campus. She came back, though, which winds an unwilling thread of respect through me. Audra doesn’t strike me as a girl with much of a backbone. With four older brothers and parents who are willing to sweep every new area for land mines before she puts a foot on the ground, she’s a classic run-and-hide chick. Can’t handle problems on her own, doesn’t have a clue how to deal when things don’t go her way.
It seemed I was proven right last semester, and yet here she is. Chewing on her lower lip, tugging on her bright red waves, wondering whether or not to say whatever she came to say. Trying my patience.
“Spit it out, Audra. I guarantee whatever you’ve done, I’ve seen or heard worse.”
“That’s probably true,” she muses, wrinkling her nose.
The obvious sign of disdain has my tongue on the edge of snapping back, telling her exactly how many people have seen her finger-banging herself butt-ass naked, but manage to contain the urge. I never tip my hand.
“I don’t know who else to go to about this. I’m sure you’ve heard that before,” she says, quieter now. Waiting for me to agree, taking a deep breath that only brightens the red on the apples of her pale cheeks when I don’t. “The guy I was seeing last semester filmed us having sex without my consent and put it up on a website.”
I force my eyes to widen and my bottom jaw to loosen a bit, feigning shock the best I can manage. “You? Innocent little Audra Stuart has sex? Do your brothers know?”
Tears fill her big, green eyes, but they’re easy enough to ignore. Instead of pretending to care I toss my briefcase on the desk and settle in the chair, studying her. She gets control of her emotions fast enough to impress me again. In fact, her delicate fingers are curling into fists.
“Yes, I have sex. I’m an adult, a consenting adult in this situation, except for the filming part.” She sets her jaw, fire burning behind her embarrassment. “I’m not ashamed of what I did. I’m pissed that my body is being displayed without my consent.”
I shrug, irritated by her righteousness. “I can see how this situation would be stressful for you, but again, why are you here? Your family could hire a whole team of lawyers to sort this whole thing out.”
“If you really think that’s a valid option maybe I shouldn’t have come here at all. The legal system takes years to get anything done, and that’s after they spend months finding a way to prove Logan’s behind the whole thing. I just want it gone so my family’s charity doesn’t suffer. That’s where you come in.”
An idea grows legs, hooks into my brain, takes root. Audra Stuart—a girl whose reputation, aside from the series of sex videos, is 100 percent squeaky clean—is about to ask for my help.
And what kind of sleazy dick would I be if I agreed without asking for something in return? Something I need more than anything else if I’m going to take care of my mother during her final year or two—legitimacy.
This chick has it in spades, and if she wants that website gone and its content wiped for good—no small task when it comes to the internet—she’s going to lend it to me.
“That’s where I come in, what?” I’m being an asshole, but it’s important that she says it.
“You’ve got your fingers in every dirty, sneaky, underhanded, shitty thing that happens on this campus.” She wrinkles her nose again. “I figure if anyone can get in front of this, it’s you.”
“Well, who can resist in the face of such flattery.”
“Don’t pretend you’re offended. You’re probably about to burst with pride at all the compliments.” Audra moves from her spot by the windows, inching along the edge of my bed until she’s a couple of feet away. She smells like citrus perfume and fres
h shampoo, and up close it’s impossible not to appreciate the lithe length of her creamy legs.
It’s tempting to ask for a return favor of my usual variety, but I’m surprised to find that, given the nature of what’s happened to bring her here, tumbling her into bed holds less appeal than it should. Focus, Sebastian. I need her to fix my image more than I need to stick my dick in her, regardless of the memory of those videos.
“Let’s say I’m willing to help. I’m going to need to see these videos in order to trace them. You okay with that?”
The reddish spots on her cheeks deepen to crimson. “No, I’m not fucking okay with that, but I don’t have a ton of options. I’d rather you see me naked than half of campus.”
“Once again, I’m flattered.”
“Don’t be. Tell me you can help.”
I take a moment to study her, realizing quickly that she might be playing tough but Audra Stuart is teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Sweat shines on her forehead and upper lip, and when she unclenches her fists, her hands shake. The fact makes me frown. One of the best things about the internet is not having to face the literal consequences of putting up sex videos for someone, but here she is.
Doing her best to make me feel as though I’ve done the wrong thing.
“Show me the videos.” I flip my laptop open and nudge it her direction, swallowing hard at the way her face tinges green. “I’m not going to pop popcorn and force you to sit through them with me,” I say, my voice emerging softer than I thought possible. “I just need the location.”
A deep breath pushes her decent boobs toward me, then pulls them away, a practice she repeats at least three times before stretching a tentative hand toward my laptop and pulling up the site I engineered. A minute later she’s onscreen all her creamy, writhing glory, kneeling and performing some enthusiastic sucking on a guy whose head conveniently lands out of frame.
Tears fill her eyes as she looks away, refusing to make eye contact, but they don’t spill down her cheeks. My respect for her ratchets up again, and not just because I do love a woman confident enough to enjoy sex.
I hit the pause button, copy the link, and paste it into a Word document before snapping the laptop closed. Every muscle in her body relaxes once the images disappear, even though they’re gone from her immediate field of vision and not from the gross, prying eyes of perverted fifteen-year-olds in their mothers’ basements.
This is the part that makes me feel the slightest bit as though an extra layer of slime coats my skin, but it’s necessary. She has to know who is in charge of this new partnership just in case she decides at some point that she’d rather not be associated with me.
Which is bound to happen. Girls like Audra Stuart do not tolerate boys like me.
“Well, now that I know exactly where to find these little treasures, let’s talk about what you’re going to do for me in exchange for getting rid of your problem before it becomes public knowledge.”
She couldn’t know it—would hopefully never know it—but I’d set up that site so that it’s hard to find from campus computers. I’m a dick, not a monster.
“What do you want? Money?”
I shake my head, wrinkling my own nose now. I might need my own money, but there’s no way I can take care of my mother with funds I blackmailed from a sweet college sophomore. “No. What I need from you is a tad more … delicate. And it’s going to require some real commitment on your part, I’m afraid.”
Audra takes a step back, as though putting space between us can soften the blow of what I’m going to ask. “Okay …”
The way I see it, there’s only one thing Audra has that I need. One thing that can convince me to take down the channel I set up for Logan Walters two months ago. A good reputation.
“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” I cross my legs and dig a bottle of water out of the mini fridge, trying to give off the impression that I don’t care one way or the other how she answers.
Audra’s jaw falls open, her bright green eyes widening until she looks like some kind of manga character. She sputters instead of responding but then manages to wrap her mind around the English language again—faint Scottish accent and all. “Yer bum’s out the window. Why? No one is going to believe that. And why?”
“The why is my business, and the deal only lasts as long as you make people believe it.” The water hits the back of my throat, cold and clean, doing its best to wipe away the gathering filth. She’s right that this isn’t going to be easy. Her brothers are probably going to kick my ass, but I’ve taken beatings before. “Now that I know where to find your awesomely naughty little displays, I’m sure you’ll do your best.”
The threat spills out of me as smooth as every one I’ve ever uttered and slithers its way to her, finding its mark, hitting almost like a physical blow. Audra folds in on herself as though I’ve punched her in the stomach, surprise replaced by understanding in a flash. I feel a little sick.
“You wanted me to show you the website so you could blackmail me.”
“No, I needed the location, as I said, in order to take it down. It’s a happy coincidence that your request also allows me to, say, put things back in place if you renege on our deal.” I put down the water bottle and spread my hands like someone offering peace, not poison. “I realize, of course, that we haven’t made an accord just yet. If you don’t want to be my girlfriend in exchange for this unfortunate incident getting wiped from existence, I’ll forget I ever saw it.”
Not likely. Audra’s a beautiful girl with a beautiful body; I doubt anyone who has seen her naked can forget it.
She purses her lips, head cocked to the side as though attempting to solve me. Decipher my request. “What exactly does being your fake girlfriend entail?”
The suggestion shoves a grimace onto my face, a wince down my spine. My reputation is often exaggerated, which works in my favor on occasion, but never fails to disgust me in private. “Public appearances. Greek life dates. Occasional handholding, and I can’t promise no kissing, but only when strictly necessary.”
“Sex?”
“Audra, I know what people say about me. Most of it’s true, but I have no issues filling my bed and achieving mutual and consenting gratification when I so desire. There’s no need for me to force sex from a girl who doesn’t want to give it to me, and frankly, I find the idea abhorrent. I will, however, suspend said voluntary activities for the duration of our courtship. For believability’s sake. I’d appreciate it if you would do the same.”
“No problem. I’m not exactly feeling trusting enough to start dating again.” She eyes me, curiosity sparking in her perceptive gaze. “How long will this have to go on? Before you’ll consider the debt paid?”
“I graduate in May. That should suffice. Then you and the rest of this wretched university will be free of me.” And I’ll be free of them. With any luck—and Audra’s help—the same will be able to be said of my father and Rowland Communications, as well.
I don’t think she’ll agree. I suspect she’ll take the bury-her-head-in-the-sand approach that’s so popular among vapid sorority girls these days and either transfer schools or pretend no one would ever stumble across the site and blow her cover.
So, her quick assent sets me back on my heels a bit. Maybe I should have taken into consideration her upbringing and her devotion to her family and their business of giving money away to poor people.
“Okay. It’s a deal. You get rid of the videos and never, ever breathe a word about them to anyone, and I’ll spend the next four months dating you.” She puts air quotes around the word dating, a small smile twitching the corner of her lips.
“What’s so funny?” I narrow my gaze at her, trying to decide if I’m missing something.
“Nothing.” She picks up her purse and flips her hair, sending the curious, intoxicating scent of her shampoo creeping in my direction. “I just have the strangest feeling that you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
I sn
ort, surprised again by her humor in the face of adversity. “I think the same could be said of you.”
She shakes her head, making an exit after passing me her phone number and her room number at the sorority house, the kind of things a boyfriend should be privy to, leaving me with one final problem.
How to keep her from figuring out I’m the one who helped Logan exploit her in the first place. Four months is a long time to expect a secret like that to stay buried.
Chapter Three
Audra
My almost-two-year-old Bid Day T-shirt clings to my sweaty back, dirt coating my skin like scales as I drop the last of my crap on the floor in the room I share with Blair. I’m glad we had already decided to stay in the Kappa Chi house together another semester before all this happened, otherwise there wouldn’t have been anywhere for me to come back to when she talked me out of hiding for the rest of my life.
To be honest, I’m more embarrassed about my chicken-shite reaction than about the illicit footage.
“Hey,” I greet Blair, swiping the sweat off my forehead with my sleeve. Getting used to the steady heat in Florida had been one of the harder adjustments. Unlike my crazy brothers I haven’t the slightest intention of staying in this hellhole after graduation. “Don’t get up.”
She looks up from an accounting textbook, a fake innocent expression on her face. “Oh, did you need help?”
“Not anymore.” I flop on the bed, ignoring my stench for the moment. “When did you get here?”
“About five minutes ago. You must have been lugging that crap up the back stairs.” She gives me a look over the rim of her glasses that says she suspects I have a reason for choosing that path.
Maybe I am avoiding the other Kappas. It’s not a sustainable strategy, but one day without answering questions doesn’t seem like a crime punishable by death stare. “Enough weird shite has happened today. I can’t take having to lie to my sisters, too.”
That gets Blair’s attention and she snaps closed her book, tossing her thick-rimmed frames onto the nightstand. “What weird shit? Sebastian?”
