Skyler goes on, already jotting down a million notes on her phone as her planning nature takes over. But I’m momentarily distracted.
Because on my phone is a text from Erin.
Hey, friend. Are you free this weekend?
I type out a yes without even checking my schedule.
I WAS NERVOUS WHEN I was elected president of Kappa Kappa Beta.
I’m sure every girl before me felt the same way, but my anxiety was an acute kind, one born of an unfamiliar sense of dread warning me that maybe I wasn’t good enough. I never felt that when I played poker professionally, and I haven’t felt it in my job on the casino boat or in my entrepreneurial classes on campus. I hate to say that I’m cocky but, well, if I’m being honest… I kind of am. And honestly? Being that way has paid off for me. I know what I’m worth, what I’m capable of, and I don’t shy away from that.
Except when it comes to running the top sorority on campus.
Stepping into Erin’s shoes was hard enough on its own, but knowing we had the top GPA, highest attendance and money raised at our philanthropy events, and most active new member class on top of it?
The bar was so high, there wasn’t a prayer of jumping over it without a trampoline to help.
That’s why I decided to push our annual Kappa Kappa Beta date auction back a couple of months from when we usually hold it. Being that it’s our biggest philanthropy event of the semester, I wanted to make sure we did it up big.
And boy, did we.
I held up the tradition of hosting it at Ralph’s, of course, but past that, nothing is the same. We’ve got a full band instead of a DJ, uplighting and fairy lights and fresh flowers and a photobooth in the back. On top of my sisters being auctioned off for dates on stage, we also have a live silent auction lining every wall of Ralph’s with prizes that range from local restaurant gift cards, to a five-day cruise out of Miami.
We’re only halfway through the event and we’ve already beat last year’s total for funds raised for our charity.
Add this to the fact that I just announced a Breckenridge Spring Break, and you could say the ladies of KKB are loving their new president.
When Cassie takes the stage to the roar of applause, I fold my arms over my chest and look around, appreciating the hard work coming together for tonight’s event.
I may not have known what I was getting myself into when I took on this position, but by God, I’m figuring it out.
“Alright, next up we have this fiery redhead,” Ellie says, gesturing to Cassie. Ellie is one of our newest members from the fall semester rush, and I already know she’s well on her way to being on the executive board. She jumped right into the sorority with guns blazing, eager to take on leadership roles.
Cassie stands next to her with a shy smile, holding a giant textbook clutched to her chest with her fake glasses falling down her nose a little bit. She’s also wearing a plaid skirt and white button-up shirt like she’s at a prep school.
With a little creative directing, I had all the girls dress to play a part this year. We’ve had the vixen, the party girl, the goody two shoes, and now, the smarty pants.
“Don’t let her glasses and biology book fool you, fellas – she’s a spitfire and ready for a hot night out on the town!” Ellie says to another roar of applause. “Feast your eyes on the one, the only, Cassie McBee!”
The crowd goes wild, and I throw in a loud hoot and holler of my own, cupping my hands around my mouth like a megaphone. Just as I lower my hands, I’m picked up from behind and spun around as I squeal.
I land back on my feet in front of a smirking Kip, and I narrow my eyes, poking him in the stomach before I leap up into his arms again and press a kiss to his mouth.
“I thought you couldn’t make it!”
“Surprise,” he says against my smile. Then, with another kiss, he turns me in his arms to face the stage as the bidding starts on Cassie. “Actually, we wrapped up filming today’s scenes, and with the auction being one of the next we’re working on, Natalia wanted to come get a feel for what it’s like.”
My body goes rigid at the mention of her name, and I turn over my shoulder to find Natalia wearing a bright smile just behind Kip. She waves excitedly at me, and then her eyes are on the stage, and she’s jotting down notes in a notebook as she watches the bidding.
I force a smile. “Great idea.”
Natalia grabs Kip’s arm from behind, pulling him back and saying something in his ear over the shouting from the crowd. Whatever it is makes Kip laugh, and then he says something back to her, and she laughs, and then shakes her head at me as if to say, “Gah, this guy, so funny, am I right?”
I tear my focus from them and turn back toward the stage just as Adam shouts an outrageous two-thousand-dollar bid from the crowd. Cassie’s jaw falls open, but no one else is surprised.
That boy is crazy about her.
No one can compete with that bid, so in a snap, Cassie is off the stage and Ellie is bringing out our next sister.
And I’m trying to watch and be happy like I was just moments ago, and not focus on the fact that my doppelgänger is standing right behind my boyfriend.
Touching his shoulder.
Whispering in his ear.
Laughing at his jokes.
Making him laugh, too.
I crack my neck, annoyed with how jealous I am. I have no reason to be, and yet, I can’t seem to shake this gut feeling that tells me Natalia is trouble.
I somehow manage to subdue the feeling as the auction goes on, and when it’s intermission, Kip, Natalia, and I take a break in the Ralph’s parking lot to get some fresh air.
“Wow!” Natalia says when we’re free of most of the crowd. Her eyes are wide as she looks at her notes and then back at the bar. “This really is something. I’m glad we came tonight, because I had no idea how to picture it when I read the script. I mean, guys dropping thousands of dollars for a date with a girl?” She shakes her head. “Insane!”
I smile, looping my arm through Kip’s. “It’s for charity. And besides, most of these guys are using Daddy’s money, if you know what I mean.”
Natalia chuckles. “Yeah, I definitely don’t. I’m here on scholarship and working my ass off just to be here. These kind of kids aren’t exactly the type I hang out with.”
My neck flares with heat, but I force a breath to subdue it. “Some of them are rich, sure, or come from well-off families. But not all of them. I’m like you, I’ve had to work to pay my tuition.”
“For the record,” Kip interjects, holding up one finger. “I outbid that douchebag with my own money just to get you to go on a date with me.”
“And I paid that douchebag to bid on me because I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t win.”
“Your plan backfired,” Kip says, turning until I’m in his arms.
“In the best way,” I agree.
We kiss as Natalia makes a little aww sound, and then Kip pulls back with his cheeks flushed. “Excuse me, ladies, I’m going to catch up with some of my brothers. Be right back.”
He nods toward a group of Alpha Sigmas on the other side of the parking lot, and then he’s off, and Natalia and I are left alone.
“So, did you always want to be in a sorority?” Natalia asks. The way she’s poised with her pen and notebook in hand, I feel like I’m having flashbacks to the asshole reporters who used to write about me when I played poker.
Top Ten Hottest Poker Players!
“I don’t know about always,” I say, leaning my back against the brick building. “But, I didn’t really have any friends in high school, or feel like I belonged anywhere. So when I came to PSU, it was a chance to start over. I knew I wanted to find a family here. And Kappa Kappa Beta was that for me.”
Natalia sighs, shaking her head as she looks around. “It just all feels so foreign to me. Back home in South Dakota, I was always like one of the guys, you know? I hung out with my cousin and his friends, and the few friends of my own I made were all du
des.” She frowns. “I’ve never had any girlfriends.”
I fight the urge to scoff, because I have a feeling there are more than a few reasons why she hasn’t had many girlfriends.
“You think you might rush?” I ask instead.
“Oh, no,” she says quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not one to pay for my friends.”
She laughs with the joke, writing something in her notes, but when she looks back up at me and sees the pissed expression, her face goes ashen.
“Oh… shit, Skyler, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”
“That you think I pay for my friends?”
She cringes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t assume. I just… I don’t really get all this,” she says, waving her hand around. “It all feels fake to me.”
I push off the wall, stepping into her space. “I know the feeling, of when something feels fake,” I say, arching a brow as I eye her up and down. “Or someone.”
There’s a twitch of something in Natalia’s eyes then, recognition, like she knows what I’m not saying. She smirks, and then her eyes flick behind me. “Your boyfriend is amazing, you know?” she asks, pulling her gaze back to mine. “He’s really going to be something out in Los Angeles.” She tilts her head then, fake sympathy washing over her face. “I’m sure you’ll really miss him when he goes back and you’re still here.”
“I’m sure I won’t be the only one,” I pop off before I can think better of it.
At that, Natalia smiles. “Maybe you can come out to California after graduation and I can show you around.”
Confusion furrows my brows.
“Oh, Kip hasn’t told you?” Natalia asks, stepping in a bit closer. “I’ve been accepted to UCLA for the fall semester.”
It takes everything in me to show absolutely no emotion at her news, but I know even with a stone-cold expression, there’s victory for Natalia in the fact that I have nothing to respond with.
Before I get the chance to figure out what to say, Kip is back, his arm around my shoulder and his lips pressing a warm kiss to my cheek. “Ready to get back in there?”
“Oh, I’ll get us a couple beers. I can’t wait to hear how much you all raised at the end of the auction!” Natalia says, her smile bright and cheery. She winks at us. “See you two inside.”
And then she skips off, and Kip beams like she’s his favorite child.
“She’s really taking this seriously,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s not often you find people like her, who are focused at such a young age.”
“She’s focused, alright,” I murmur under my breath.
“Come on,” Kip says, squeezing me at his side. “The show can’t start without the president.”
Natalia is a perfect angel for the rest of the night. She buys me drinks and keeps her distance from Kip, as if now that she knows I’m not too shy to call her on her shit, she wants to make me think I’m crazy by playing completely innocent.
The fact is, she hasn’t really done anything wrong, or said anything wrong, or put her threat on the table in any substantial way.
But I’m not a fool.
And I’m also not one to fuck with.
They say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
Looks like I’m about to have a new best friend.
THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO me.
I would finally land an interview at one of the top wedding planning firms in the city and then wake up on the morning of the interview sick as a dog.
I would go to the interview anyway, hoping they couldn’t tell, only to be looked at with wide, bulgy, don’t come too close to me eyes.
I would have what otherwise would have been considered the best interview of my life… and then promptly sneeze and send snot flying into my hand without a tissue anywhere in the room.
Just the memory of my interview this afternoon has me groaning again, and I roll over in bed, sniffling and peeking out from the burial ground I’ve made with my sheets and comforter. I’m completely burritoed up, save for my eyes, and the hand holding my phone as I scroll through social media.
There’s nothing worse than when you’ve already had a bad day and you scroll through your newsfeed only to discover that everyone else is just out living their best life.
I’m engaged!
I got a new job!
I spent my day on a boat!
Well, good for fucking you.
With a resentful sigh, I pull up the add a post tab and snap a picture of me under the covers with my red, puffy eyes and raw nose. I flip the camera off for good measure, and then post it with the caption being sick sucks.
So original, Jess.
I don’t feel any better once it’s posted, even with the flurry of hearts that come in and the waterfall of feel better comments. Probably because I know every single one of those people commenting couldn’t care less about me in actuality. I’m just another stop on their social media tour, a quick like and obligatory comment, and then they’re moving on and I’m forgotten.
Wow, I really am in a sour mood tonight.
A huff of a breath leaves my chest as I scroll a few more times. “Just put the phone down, Jess, and go to bed,” I say to myself, and I’m on track to do just that when the little notification lights up in my messages.
When I click them, my heart freezes at the sight of Jarrett’s name.
I swallow, opening the message like it’s a highly flammable tank of gasoline and I’ve got a match in my hand.
He sent me a link to my post, and then underneath it, there’s just one simple word.
Soup?
My heart picks up its pace from a trot to a gallop, and with a groan, I sit up in bed, staring at his message with two opposing thoughts warring in my head.
No, I should not hang out with my ex-boyfriend.
Well, I’m sick, it’s not like I’m going to do anything sexy right now, no matter who’s around.
Kade wouldn’t like it.
Kade said he’s fine with us being friends.
Kade would be here with you if he could be.
But he’s not.
It’s Jarrett.
It’s just Jarrett, and besides, soup does sound really good…
That last thought wins out, and I type out a response before throwing my phone across the room like it’s a bomb about to go off.
Part of me thinks he won’t even really come. I hear my phone buzz across the room and imagine that he said something along the lines of ha ha, wish I could, feel better. He’s probably out with his friends. He doesn’t have time to bring soup to a friend.
But the other, louder part of me reminds me that Jarrett is nothing if not a man of his word.
It’s only a half hour later that my phone rings, and the front desk tells me I have a visitor.
“Shit!” I mutter after telling them to send him up and hanging up the phone. I jump up out of bed with my body aching, and then I’m in front of my mirror, staring at the absolute wreck of my reflections. “Double shit.”
My half-ass attempt to tame my hair and make myself not look disgusting is subpar at best, but it’s all I’ve got time for before there’s a knock at the front door.
I make my way down the hall, and when I answer the door, Jarrett stands on the other side of it looking like trouble with a capital T.
A cool front whipped through South Florida tonight — probably the last we’ll have, now that we’ve tiptoed into the first day of March. And thanks to that, Jarrett’s bald head is covered with a black and gray beanie, his tattooed arms shielded by a well-fitted leather jacket, and the dark jeans he’s paired it with hug him in all the right places.
Which means I’m thinking all the wrong things.
To top it all off, he’s got bags full of groceries hanging from his arms and a too-sexy-for-his-own-good smile spreading over his perfect lips.
Jesus Christ, I’m screwed.
Jarrett’s eyebrow arches as he takes in the sight of me, and then with that sexy gri
n still intact, he says, “You look like shit.”
I breathe out a laugh as I hold the door open wider, signaling for him to come in. “I feel even worse.”
“Symptoms?”
“Congested. Sore throat. Body aches.” I sniff on cue when the door shuts behind us. “Generally, feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“Sounds like a virus, alright,” Jarrett says, already unpacking the groceries he brought. “Have you taken any meds?”
“Yeah.”
His pointed look tells me he doesn’t believe me, and when he tosses some cold medicine my way, I laugh.
“Why did you ask when you already knew the answer?”
“Wanted to see if you were still a shit liar.”
We share a smile as he continues unpacking the groceries, and I open the medicine he brought, popping two of the nighttime pills.
Jarrett whistles as he looks around the condo. “This is a sweet pad. You live here by yourself?”
“Erin and Ashlei live here, too. They’re both out tonight, though — Erin is with her study group, and Ashlei is at the pole studio working on her routine for competition. She said they’ll probably all go out after…” I shake my head, taking a seat at one of the barstools at the kitchen island. “Must be nice to not be snotting involuntarily.”
Jarrett laughs. “Honestly, I’m just surprised you posted about your situation. Last time I found out you were sick, it was a very different situation.”
He cocks a brow as I hold up my hands. “Hey, I didn’t want the dude I had major hots for seeing me all disgusting, okay?”
“You also didn’t want to admit that you were falling for me.”
“Shut up and make me soup.”
The laugh that bubbles out of his chest is like music to my ears, a long-forgotten sound that warms my heart like a hot cup of tea. I swallow down the knot building in my throat as I watch him work.
And then like not a day has even passed, we slip into easy conversation.
It’s the strangest thing, watching Jarrett Locke work in my kitchen like it’s his own. He strips out of his leather jacket and takes the beanie off his head, and I try to ignore the way it makes my stomach tighten to see his biceps practically bulging out of the white thermal he’s wearing as he slices and mixes and cooks. But he seems so relaxed and comfortable that before I know it, I feel the same way.
Hazed: A New Adult College Romance (Palm South University Book 6) Page 10
