SMART TASS (The OHellNO Series Book 1)

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SMART TASS (The OHellNO Series Book 1) Page 6

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff


  “What?” He practically bites off my head with his blue eyes.

  “Nothing. I, uh…let’s just talk right here.”

  “What’s wrong with my dorm room?”

  “It’s, uh…all the way over on the other side of campus.”

  “So is your dorm room. You think I’m going to do something to you, don’t you? Some stupid prank.”

  I make a noncommittal shrug. “It’s not outside the realm of possibilities.”

  “Fine. Let’s go find a bench in the common.” He heads for the exit, shaking his head, and I follow, trying not to notice the view. He’s wearing soft faded jeans that hug his muscled ass like a glove.

  My eyes dart to the safety of the back of his head. I don’t want to drool over this guy, so I won’t.

  Before we get to the common, Hunter spots a bench underneath a maple tree between buildings. He goes to it, sits, and jerks his head for me to come on over. There’s a hard look in his eyes, and his posture is rigid.

  What the hell is up his ass? Now I can’t help my curiosity.

  I waltz over and take a seat. “Okay, what do you want to say?”

  He doesn’t speak, so I’m forced to sit there and stare, waiting for him. His handsome face is a little red and the muscle on his square, stubble-covered jaw is ticking away.

  “Hunter, what’s going on with you?”

  He glances at me, but returns to looking out at nothing straight ahead.

  “Okay.” I can’t stand feeling so uncomfortable, so I get to my feet.

  “Wait.” He grabs my arm, so I resume sitting and stare into those eyes.

  “Well?”

  “I, uhhh…I’ll do it,” he says.

  “Do what?”

  “Be your boyfriend. I’ll help you get into the Tri-Kapps.”

  Oh, look. Somebody got himself another concussion.

  I stand up. “Nice talking to you, but I’m not falling for your lame pranks.” I turn to walk away, but before I know it, he’s up and grabs my hand to slow me down.

  He steps in front of me. “Yes. You are too smart to fall for pranks, which is why I’m proposing we strike a deal. We’ll pretend to go out for a few weeks. I’ll play your pussy-whipped boyfriend when we’re around your friends, and I’ll even let you break up with me in front of them.”

  “I don’t understand.” Why would he want to help me?

  “I heard your roommate say that you had a bet going with them. I’m going to make sure you win.”

  “Why do you care if I win? What would you get out of it?”

  “You know, uh…points. You’ll come over to the party next weekend and make it clear you’re willing to give it up. I get the points.” He shrugs awkwardly. “It’s a fair trade.”

  Tell the world I want to give my womanly flower to Hunter? A fair trade? Not even close. Regardless…

  “You were way behind in the scavenger hunt, so I don’t see how ten points will help.”

  He stares down at me for an awkward moment.

  “What?” I ask.

  “They, uh…increased the points,” he mumbled.

  “For what?”

  “Sleeping with you. Sleeping with you is fifty points—it was Henry’s idea.”

  “Oh, wow. That’s not completely vile, sleazy, and immature. And such a shame that I’m not doing it, because you’d fit right in with that frat if you won.” I step around him and continue walking, but he easily catches up and stands in my way again.

  “We don’t actually have to fuck, Tass. They just need to think we did.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Oh, I see, because I’m not good enough for you.” There’s a bitterness in his voice that I just don’t get.

  “Uh, yeah. Exactly.”

  “Wow, you really can be a bitch sometimes,” he snarls.

  I shrug with a smile. “Takes one to know one. Bye, bitch.” I turn to head in the other direction.

  “Tassie, I can’t afford the dorms anymore. If I don’t get into the frat, I’ll have to drop out.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Mothereffer.” I sigh under my breath and then turn to face him with a growl. “That’s not fair. You know full well that I am a complete sucker for people trying to get an education.”

  He flashes a coy, dimply smile that I’d rather not see right now, because—dammit—it’s downright adorable and I know it’s the look he uses to always charm the ladies.

  “What happened to your scholarship money?” He received a full ride, according to the rumor mill.

  “It paid for most of my tuition, books, and two hundred a month for room and board. But it’s not enough and my parents can’t afford to help. So that leaves me with the option of quitting football and getting a job, but quitting football means I’d lose the entire scholarship and I can’t make enough to pay for everything.”

  “Oh.” I’d heard a rumor that his dad’s construction business wasn’t doing well. I guess that rumor was true. I also knew, from my own experience, that Hunter probably couldn’t get much financial aid. His parents likely made just enough money to disqualify him. An academic scholarship was completely out of the question for him.

  “Please, Tassie?”

  I look at my pink low-top Converse, then at him, and back to the shoes. “Give me one good reason why I should help you?” Because I really, really need one. Especially since I feel like a complete moron for actually wanting to help him. It’s like I can’t resist rescuing the stray puppy who’s bitten me a thousand times.

  “We’d be helping each other,” he explains. “I need a much cheaper place to live and you want to get into the Tri-Kapps.”

  “Ah!” I say, holding up my index finger. “But do I want it badly enough to let everyone think you’ve taken my pristine chariot out for its maiden voyage?”

  “Your…chariot?”

  “What would you like me to call it? My vaginal membrane? My cherry? My flower of purity? The winner’s ribbon for my hump-day race?”

  His handsome face contorts. “Chariot works.”

  “Great. And you’re still not riding it.”

  “I didn’t ask to. It’s just something we’ll let people think so I get the points. In exchange, for the next few weeks, I’ll dote when we’re around your uptight, intellectual elitist sorority sisters. And then you dump me. Simple.”

  I give it some thought—what it would mean to allow the blemish on my reputation.

  “Come on, Tass. You know this is the best option for us both. Paweeeze?”

  I look at Hunter, who has giant blue, anime-saucer eyes and a lower lip that’s pouting for its life.

  “No.” I shake my finger at him. “Not the puppy face, Hunter.”

  He tugs on the hem of my T-shirt, his lower lip quivering. “Tassie…”

  “Ugh. You are so juvenile. You know that, right?”

  His face returns to its normal, annoyingly handsome perfection. “Yes. And thank you. You’re making the right choice.”

  “Wait. I didn’t agree to—”

  He leans down and plants a big wet, closed-mouth kiss on my lips.

  “Hey!” I step back.

  “What?” He shrugs innocently. “You’re my girlfriend now.”

  “No. I’m not and you need to—”

  He grabs my hand tightly and starts pulling me along. “Come on, sugar rump. Let me walk you to your room.”

  “Hunter.” I dig in hard with my heels and his hand slips from mine.

  “Tassie.”

  “Hunter.”

  “Tassie…?” he warns with his voice as if to say, “Don’t be stupid.”

  I see that his plan has merit, but that doesn’t make this any less ridiculous. Still, I would do almost anything to avoid the mental anguish associated with letting my family down and tarnishing the Summerset pride.

  I give it a long, long moment of thought. None of this really matters as much as my long-term goals. And getting into that sorority, as horrible as this particular chapter i
s, will open doors the rest of my life. The sacrifice is worth it.

  “Fine.” I whoosh out a breath. “But there needs to be rules. Like…no kissing. And definitely don’t call me sugar rump.”

  “No kissing?” He steps in close and places his large hands on his hips in such a way that pulls the fabric of his jeans tighter, making his bulge more pronounced.

  The guy’s packing. I suddenly feel moronic for calling him a shrimp dick. Clearly the world can see his member falls more into the category of a whale, if we are sticking to the whole sea-creature analogy. He’s more like Moby Dick, not shrimp dick.

  “Hey. Eyes up here, Tass.”

  Oh, jeez. I look up at him, pretending like that didn’t just happen, but the glib expression on his face—one corner of his lips turned up and a proud twinkle in his eyes—hints that he enjoyed my checking him out.

  He steps in a little closer and places his hands on my shoulders, speaking in that low, deep voice that sets off unwanted flutters in my stomach. “Tassie, how are we supposed to convince anyone that we’re legit if we don’t kiss?”

  He’s got me there, I think, unable to stop from checking out those soft lips. He’s staring at mine, too, and starts to lean in a little.

  I panic and stick out my hand. “Okay. Fine. But kissing is only allowed if I initiate.”

  “You want to be in control of the kissing?” He pffts.

  “What? It frankly makes both our stories more credible. If your bros are watching, they’ll see me throwing myself at you. If my sisters are watching, they’ll see you waiting patiently for whatever I’m willing to give you since you will be my whipped man—a role you’re clearly destined to play.”

  “Whipped,” he scoffs. “That’s never going to happen, but whatever. You can be in charge of kissing, even though we both know you don’t know how.”

  “Yes, I do.” I totally don’t. In fact…I think I just had my first kiss.

  Dammit! And it was Hunter? Oh, come on! No justice. There’s no justice.

  “Do you want me to show you?” he asks, in a low, quiet voice.

  I think he’s joking at first, but he’s not smiling. He’s dead serious.

  Before I have a chance to think it through, I’m starting to open my mouth with the intention to say yes. I am curious to know what a real kiss might really feel like. But then I snap to my senses and realize who this is. Not my Prince Charming. Not the guy for me. He’s my adversary.

  “No, thanks,” I say. “I think I’m good.”

  He holds out his large rough hand. “Hand-holding it is, then.”

  I hesitate but take it, which makes him grin. Genuinely grin.

  Why’s he enjoying this so much? He’s supposed to hate me. Maybe he likes making me feel uncomfortable, which clearly this situation does.

  “Stop that,” I bark.

  “What?” His grin spreads out like a contagious disease I want to cure.

  “Don’t act like this is some giant victory and I’ve forgotten all about our turbulent past.”

  His smug grin takes a dive and his brows knit together. “So you do remember?”

  “Uh, hello. Who could forget you picking on them for thirteen years?”

  “No. I meant the other thing.”

  “What other thing?”

  He stares instead of answering. “Never mind. The past is the past for me. That’s all that matters.”

  Okaaay. What’s with him? “Whatever you say, Hunter.”

  His lips curl into a subtle smile that seems forced. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.” He takes my hand firmly in his and begins walking back to my dorm. “Sugar rump.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hunter and I spent about an hour talking about “the plan” in my dorm room—yes, alone—not as bad as I thought, though I did find myself looking at his arms a lot. He would move them when he spoke, making them flex and bulge. They were so…so…muscly. Then Elle showed up and Hunter excused himself for some evening shenanigans at the Alpha House—no girls allowed. Some Cro-Magnon bonding idiocies to be sure.

  After the requisite BSing with Elle, who absolutely knew I was up to something (but I was not about to drag her into my little plan), I updated my weekly planner.

  Wednesday: Tri-Kapp Cap-Night. The Tri-Kapps would raise money, selling iced cappuccinos at the concession stand just outside the stadium during the big game against San Diego State, and Hunter and I would make our first public appearance. I would make it a point to go inside the stadium during the game and wave at him from the bleachers or catcall his name. He would make goo-goo eyes at me before he disappeared into the lockers at halftime. I made it clear that I would not be initiating any kissing, but we could hug. He did not seem to care one way or another. About the not-kissing, I mean.

  Fine by me. Because I don’t want to have his wet, hot tongue inside my mouth. So good. We’re on the same page.

  Thursday night: Keg Run for Narcolepsy, hosted by the Alphas. So appropriate. After all, the Alphas spend most of their lives asleep and hungover.

  Friday night: romantic movie-thon at the Tri-Kapp House. Hunter will so hate this, and I can’t wait to make him sit through estrogen bombs like Titanic and The Proposal (“Rrrramone!”). On the other hand, I feel exceptionally nervous. Lainey and Jessica will be watching closely, and I’m unsure if Hunter can convince them that he’s insanely into me simply because I used my big brain to break the code and turn him on with my hot body and lack of intellect. Because that is the other part of all this: Me demonstrating that my hypotheses were all true; I could get Hunter to want me simply by acting and dressing easy and stupid.

  By the time Wednesday night finally rolls around, I’ve carefully run through the events in my mind and feel confident our little ruse will go off without a hitch. I’ve even had time to buy a few new outfits—a cute pair of red open-toed stacked heels, several extremely short skirts, and a few skimpy summer dresses that could be mistaken for nighties—and I got a light spray tan and mani-pedi with pearly pink polish. Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I pampered myself or spent this much time on my appearance. So while these skimpy clothes might not be my usual fare, it kind of feels good to do something not directly related to academic advancement.

  I stroll up to the rented barista cart just beside the walkway leading into the stadium, wearing my uniform for the evening—short blue skirt, sandals, and the mandatory Tri-Kapp Cap shirt, which I’ve sexied up by cutting out the neck so it hangs over one shoulder. Before I even check in with Lainey, I notice a pack of Gamma Nus going inside. They’re all wearing pink T-shirts and holding little black pirate flags that say “The Treasure HUNT is On!”

  Well, this ought to be interesting. Tonight, their “Hunt” will be doing the unthinkable: giving out a little nerd love to a Tri-Kapp. My team, however, has already been notified about the significant headway in my plot to prove brains beat brawn, and that by Friday, he’ll be my Alpha bitch.

  “Hi, Lainey,” I say as she’s taking an order and passing it over to the renta-caff guy.

  “Tassie,” she replies with a venomous grin. “So. I got your message. Tonight’s the big night, huh? And love the outfit, by the way—Sluts-R-Us having a clearance sale so the trailer-park trash can afford some new hooker wear?”

  She turns to Jessica, who’s standing behind the counter, helping the barista guy, and raises her hands for a high ten.

  “Good one, Lain!” Jessica snorts and dishes two palms.

  I crinkle my nose at these two worthless snobs. “Well, the short skirt is obviously part of my little experiment—which is working successfully, I might add—however, the last time I checked, being poor and living in a trailer park doesn’t make you a prostitute, trashy, or easy. It just makes you poor, and there’s no shame in that. Nor is there shame in shopping clearance. Everyone loves to save money.” I sigh and turn away to grab one of the signs leaning against the cart so I can get to work promoting our fundraiser. “There is, however, shame in being
a stuck-up cunt,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Ex-cuse me!” Lainey barks.

  Oops. I guess she heard me. With sign in hand, I pivot and smile. “What?”

  Lainey comes out from behind the cart counter, bellies right up and sticks her nose in mine. “What did you just say to me?”

  I laugh dismissively. “Uh, I said, ‘Such a shame. Look how poorly these signs are cut.’” I hold mine up to demonstrate. “They’re all crooked. See? Whoever did them didn’t bother with the right angles. It’s kind of annoying. Definitely not a good representation of the Tri-Kapps.”

  Lainey huffs. “You just watch yourself, Tassie.”

  “Okay.” Idiot. I begin walking in the other direction, planning to stake out a spot over by Elle, closer to the parking lot and away from these two fascist princesses.

  “Hey, Tassie!” Lainey barks. “We’d better see his full submission by Friday or you’re going to the reject pile where you belong.”

  I look over my shoulder, and I’m about to throw out a smartass comment that will surely seal my fate, but then I spot Hunter strutting toward me. He’s got on his skintight white pants, carrying his helmet, and showing off one hell of a smile—full-on dimples and everything. His bulge is an eyeful as well, not that I notice. Much.

  With a smile, I watch him approach, but I’m also watching the expressions on Lainey’s and Jessica’s faces as he walks right by them as if they were completely invisible.

  “Hey, what you doing out here?” I smile big and bright like I don’t have a care in the world and I’m really happy to see him. Okay, I sort of am. I mean, only because he just stopped me from telling Lainey to stick it, of course. No other reason, I tell myself.

  He walks right up and hugs me.

  “Oh. Okay. We’re doing this.” I grunt as he squeezes the bejeezus out of me. “Okay, there, big man,” I croak. “Go easy on the ribs.”

  “Mmmm…I missed you.”

  He tightens his grip, smashing my body against his. He feels hard and hot. It’s like being hugged by a marble statue that’s been heated in the sun. I can’t say I don’t like it.

 

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