Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 5 (Palm South University #2)

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Palm South University: Season 2, Episode 5 (Palm South University #2) Page 1

by Kandi Steiner




  “What are sisters for?”

  Skyler

  Ashlei

  Bear

  Skyler

  Ashlei

  About The Author

  Copyright © 2016 Kandi Steiner

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written consent of the author except where permitted by law.

  The characters and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Kandi Steiner

  Edited by Betsy Kash

  Cover Design by Kandi Steiner

  Formatting by Elaine York/Allusion Graphics, LLC/Publishing & Book Formatting

  Tweet as you read using #PalmSouth and join the Facebook Discussion Group here.

  IF EVER IT WERE TRUE THAT BEAR hugs are the best hugs, right now would be that moment. Wrapping my arms around my baby brother, I clap him hard on the back, holding him longer than usual and fighting back the sting of emotions threatening to form as tears. We’re in the middle of the airport and I know I’m probably embarrassing him, but I don’t give a shit. It’s the start of Family Weekend and my baby brother is here.

  My baby brother is here.

  “Nice to see you too, loser,” he mumbles into my chest, voice cracking a bit less than our last long phone call. He weaves his way out of my grasp and I ruffle his hair.

  “Don’t act like you’re too cool to hug your big bro.”

  “Well, if you didn’t hug like Aunt Shonda at Easter,” he teases and I sock him hard on the arm, making him yelp and rub the spot with a smile on his face. My little brother is not-so-little anymore. At just thirteen, the top of his head reaches my shoulders and he’s started to bulk, though his frame is still pretty lean in comparison to mine. His curly hair is medium length and unruly, his skin as dark as mine, eyes and nose virtually identical. Anyone who looked at us would know we’re brothers, and I catch Skyler ogling our similarities from the corner of my eye.

  “Clayton, this is Skyler Thorne. She’s the one I’m always telling you about.”

  “Damn,” he draws out the word, eyes devouring Skyler in her small, tight white shorts and loose tank top. “Please tell me I’m bunking with you this weekend, sweetheart.”

  I thump him on the head and he shoots me a glare, but Skyler just laughs.

  “You couldn’t handle a night in my bed, Baby Bear.”

  He grimaces. “Ugh, please tell me that’s not going to be my nickname.”

  “What? I think it’s cute,” Skyler defends. Clayton’s shoulders fall and Skyler fights back a smile as I grab his duffle bag and throw it over my shoulder.

  “Come on,” I say, steering us toward the large automatic doors that lead out to the taxi cabs. “Your big brother is taking you to a college party.”

  “What?! No way!” Clayton’s dark eyes light up and he holds his hand out until Skyler smacks it with a high five. “Time to get wasted. Make sure you call up all the hottest sorority babes because Baby Bear is looking for someone to hibernate with tonight.” He howls and it echoes off the concrete walls of the parking garage.

  “Going to get a thirteen-year-old drunk?” Skyler asks me quietly, cocking a brow.

  “I bought some non-alcoholic beer. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I wink and she shakes her head, a few strands falling from the messy bun she’s paired with her casual appearance. I love her like this—no makeup, hair up, wearing the first thing she found in her closet. Skyler Thorne in her natural element, ladies and gents.

  “I smell trouble.”

  “Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s a Pennington.”

  I beam at Skyler before hailing a cab and climbing in the back with her and Clayton. I throw my arm around his shoulders and tease him about girls and video games and everything else simple in his life because it makes me feel like home. He makes me feel like home. The good part of home that I miss.

  When we get to the Omega Chi house, I give Clayton the tour while Skyler sets us up for a game of beer pong, complete with cups filled to the brim with Clayton’s special beer on one side.

  “This place is amazing,” he says with wonder as we finally drop his bag off in my room. “No wonder you never come home.”

  I frown, trying not to read too much into that assessment. “Ready for your first game of beer pong?”

  He laughs. “I’m ready for a game of beer pong.”

  “Wait, you’ve played before?”

  Clayton shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Maybe.”

  It honestly doesn’t surprise me that he’s already played, because that’s the way it was where I grew up in Pittsburgh—where he’s growing up right now. I was exposed to drinking and drugs well before my pre-teen years—mostly courtesy of our own family—and I know he’s no stranger to it, either. I can only hope he’s smart about his choices, and judging by the way he looks up to me, I feel confident that he is.

  Smirking, I grab a fresh pack of pong balls out of my dresser and break it open, tossing one up in the air. “Fine. I guess I don’t need to take it easy on you, then.”

  He grins back just as cockily and I wonder how much of myself I’ve rubbed off on him over the years.

  We play three back-to-back games before Clayton realizes his beer isn’t doing what it should be. Skyler and I are playing on a team and I paired him with a hot little Zeta, but she’s probably doing more to distract him than help him. Her name is Jazmine, though everyone around campus calls her Jazzy, and she keeps running her long manicured nails through Clayton’s tight curls and touching his arm over the table. If his skin wasn’t so dark, I’d swear he was blushing.

  I finally concede and let him drink a little Bud Light, but not in beer pong, because after a few games he’d probably be shitfaced. The last thing our fraternity needs is to get caught with a drunk minor at our house. Frowning, I realize I haven’t been able to talk to Skyler much about how her sisters are handling everything with the Spring Break debacle, so I leave Clayton where he’s set up on a bean bag playing video games with Josh and go search for her.

  It’s a Thursday night and everyone is still recovering from Spring Break, so the house is surprisingly dead. Well, for our house, anyway. I can hear Clayton’s laughs over the video game sound effects as I round the corner into our kitchen and lean against the counter next to Skyler.

  “Tequila?” I ask, eyes on the shot glass pinched between her fingers.

  She nods, her blue eyes dull and tired. “It’s been that kind of week.”

  “The blogs?”

  She throws the liquid down her throat, eyes squinting against the burn as she reaches for a lime slice. “Partly. I mean, I can’t say I’m exactly thrilled to be gaining the reputation as a heartbreaker, but it’s not the biggest thing on my plate right now.”

  “The website?”

  She nods, quiet as she refills her shot glass. I push off the counter long enough to retrieve one for me and slide it up next to hers to fill, too. “We kicked him out, you know? Alex.” I blow out a long breath through my nose, my hands gripping the edge of the counter as I think about the website he made from Spring Break detailing all his conquests and a few of our other brothers’. I knew I didn’t like that cocky son of a bitch, but I didn’t know he was a fucking idiot. He’s lucky Florida doesn’t have laws against “revenge porn” yet, though our alumni brothe
rs made sure to warn us that those laws are well on their way to being passed. Even though it was only one brother’s idea, several were involved, and it reflected on our entire chapter as a whole. So, naturally, Alec already called a meeting with nationals, and now, we await our fate. “Thank God he hadn’t been sworn in as a brother yet. He doesn’t deserve our letters.”

  “That’s the fucking truth.” She clinks her glass to mine and we toss them back, hissing through our teeth as we slam them back on the counter. “It was fucked up what he did, but I think our sisters are a little more shocked by Bo and Ashlei. No one knew. I mean, Jess suspected but . . .” She shrugs. “We’ve never had this situation before, you know? At least not openly. They’re our sisters, but they’re dating each other. Let’s just say some are handling it better than others. And Jess has already almost fought the half of our chapter stupid enough to be vocal about their disapproval.”

  “Shit, I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Erin is going crazy trying to figure out what to do. Everyone on the executive board is.”

  I feel a pang of guilt chase the tequila at the mention of Erin’s name, remembering how I lashed out on her on Spring Break. I haven’t talked to her since. “It’s not like they can kick them out, right? They didn’t do anything wrong. They couldn’t have known he had a camera set up in that room.”

  “No, they didn’t do anything wrong, but some of the girls on exec don’t think it’s okay for them to date. It’s a big ordeal.” She sighs. “I don’t know. I just hope it doesn’t tear any of us apart.”

  “It won’t,” I assure her, wrapping her in my arms. She inhales a deep, shaky breath as I rest my chin on her head. “I know my KKB girls, and the bond you guys have is too strong to be broken by something like this.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I am.” I kiss her forehead before we make our way back to the living room, joining Clayton and the rest of my brothers around the television. For the rest of the night, my brothers tell Clayton stories about me and give him tips on how to score girls, like they have any credibility in that area. It’s all laughter and good vibes, and in so many ways it feels like a piece of me that I’ve been missing is finally in the same room again.

  I never want to let the feeling go.

  I’M NOT SURE WHAT TIME it is when I feel her crawl into bed with me.

  I left my window open, knowing she would want me tonight since we haven’t seen each other all day. Clayton is sleeping on the giant bean bag in the Omega Chi loft, and as soon as he passed out, I shot off a text to Shawna to let her know the offer was open.

  As if it ever wasn’t anymore.

  She doesn’t speak when she climbs under the covers, already undressed, already panting with need. She just slips her warm hand beneath the band of my boxer briefs and drags her tongue along the edge of my jaw until I meet her mouth with my own. She inhales stiffly when our lips touch and her grip on me tightens, intoxication flowing through the point of contact straight into my blood stream. Shawna always brings me to the best kind of high, but having her hands on me when I’m balancing on the edge of sleep is fucking incredible.

  My hands find her hips and I grip her hard, pulling her to straddle me without my mouth breaking contact with hers. She pulls my briefs down just enough for me to kick them the rest of the way off and then she pushes off my chest. Palming me, she places me at her wet entrance, pausing for just the smallest second. It’s long enough for me to peek up at her through heavy eyelids and see her bathed in the dim moonlight streaming through my window, reminding me of our first night together on my birthday. She arches her back as I flex my hips and push inside her, my hands still holding her firmly in place.

  We moan together, the same numbing electricity rolling over each of us. I let her work me slow, her thighs tensing beneath my rough fingertips as she does. Her hands are on my chest, balancing, her head is back, hair falling down her back, the purple ends catching the light in a metallic glimmer. I slide my hands up to frame her small waist, trail them over her hard, pierced nipples, and hook them behind her neck before pulling her down to me.

  I kiss her softly, her hair falling all around us as I gently take the lead. Rocking my hips deeper, soft whimpers escape her lips and find refuge on mine. My hands on the move again, chills break in their wake as they snake down her lower back to grip her ass firmly, controlling her movements. She willingly lets me take the reins. Her teeth bite the sensitive skin on my neck just below my ear and I hiss, pumping into her harder, driving us both toward the apex.

  When I know we’re both close, I pull her forehead to mine, eyes searching, breaths coming hard as I keep our rhythm steady. There are words suspended between us in a space they may never escape, and though neither of us dare speak them out loud, our bodies scream them between the sheets as I rock once, twice, three times, reaching new depths. We hold each other tighter, nails in skin, eyes still wide as the final spark ignites and burns us to the core. We ride out the flames, scorching together, caught in the fire.

  A blistering inferno rages in my bedroom, and we gladly go down together in the blaze.

  IT’S SUCH A CONTRAST to see the same sisters who were barely clothed and completely sloshed just over a week ago completely sober, dressed in our school colors, ribbons in their hair as they greet the constant stream of parents entering our house. I’m on the front line, handing out programs to smiling faces as they file in out of the Florida heat. My parents aren’t among them, since last minute work issues kept them from making the trip down for Family Weekend, but Erin has volunteered her mom as tribute to keep me company—almost too eagerly, actually.

  I find out very quickly why.

  After an introductory speech from my Grand Big, Kelsey, the parents get tours of the house while sipping lemonade and Erin introduces me to a thin, older version of herself.

  “Mom, this is Skyler, my Little,” Erin says, gesturing to me.

  “Elizabeth Xander.” I take her dainty hand in my own and attempt a shake, but she stops me short with a tight, brief squeeze. “Pleasure, I’m sure.”

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” I volunteer, my eyes catching Erin’s. She rolls them behind her mom’s back and I grin. “Would you like to see our rooms?”

  Elizabeth shakes her head, scouring the living room of the house with an upturned nose. Her dark blonde hair looks just like Erin’s, especially since it’s pulled back into a tight bun, throwing more attention to the strand of pearls draped over her collar bone. She and Erin are both in brightly colored Lily Pulitzer dresses and wedges, and suddenly I wish I’d let Erin dress me this morning. I’m in jean shorts and a white tank top with our letters on it.

  “No need, I had the full tour last year.”

  “We should probably head over to the tailgate, anyway,” Erin adds. Her mother nods and they link arms, leading the way.

  Family Weekend is packed with random events for students and their parents, including everything from guest lectures to fraternity parties. The biggest event, however, is the baseball game tailgate. The grassy event area right beside the baseball stadium is transformed into the ultimate tailgate experience, food and booze included, and we all pack the stands for the night’s game. Well, those of us who make it past the day drinking, anyway.

  Elizabeth talks the entire walk over, chatting with us about her latest shopping trips and Botox treatments. Anytime Erin attempts bringing up her position in the sorority or her classes, her mother loses interest immediately, tapping away on her phone or changing the subject back to something superficial. It’s clear she doesn’t approve of Erin’s major or career choice.

  “Oh my, am I seeing double?” A smooth voice drawls from behind us just as we reach the edge of the tailgate yard. Bright orange, teal, and white tents pepper the grass and our Student Government President speaks loudly over the microphone system, welcoming the parents to PSU. When we turn, Erin smiles at Landon, her latest fling and the owner of the smooth voice
spitting out clichés. Still, her smile seems bleak, the same way it’s been for weeks, and I wonder how badly the stress of the Omega Chi website is getting to her.

  “Hi,” she says sweetly and Landon grasps her gently by the elbow, pulling her just close enough to kiss her cheek before turning to Elizabeth. His blonde hair is almost too perfectly styled and his freshly tanned skin from Spring Break contrasts harshly with the pastels of his polo and frat shorts.

  “You didn’t tell me you had a sister, Ex,” he flirts, reaching for her mom’s hand. She’s all smiles as he lifts it to his mouth for a kiss. Erin and I exchange glances. Is this guy serious right now?

  “Aren’t you sweet as pie. I’m Elizabeth Xander, Erin’s mother. And you are?”

  “Landon Turner, ma’am.”

  “What a strong name,” she says, giggling, eyes bright. “Are you Erin’s boyfriend?”

  “Mother,” Erin scolds, cheeks blushing a light shade of pink.

  Landon doesn’t miss a beat. He pulls Erin in under his arm and smiles a bright, charming, country smile—all toothy and genuine. “Just friends for now, ma’am. But I’m working on her.”

  Elizabeth’s brows shoot up and she grins at Erin. “Well heavens, child, give in already!”

  We all laugh, me mostly to ease the awkwardness, and Erin leads us to a shaded picnic table near the alumni tent. It’s a little too warm today, the sun shining high in the sky without a cloud to block it. I’m already sweating slightly from the walk over and gladly take the fresh bottle of water offered to us by the volunteers as we sit down.

  “So, Landon, what’s your major?” Erin’s mom asks, sipping from her own bottle. She’s leaning over the dark teal picnic table, ready to devour whatever he says. Of course, when he tells her he’s pre-med with a focus in plastic surgery, his Ken doll smile locked in place and his hand running through his blonde hair, she practically sits in his lap.

  She lets him ramble on and I lean in to whisper to Erin. “You okay?”

 

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