His brows pull together. “Actually, it’s Kip. Kip Jackson. Where did you get Matthew from?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, you just look like a Matthew. Kip sounds like a fun, interesting name. So far, you seem more on the safe side to me. Like a Matthew. Or maybe a John.”
Kip laughs and crosses his arms over his chest again, his left brow raised. “First I’m faking my intelligence, now I’m boring and safe? I must have really screwed up this first impression.”
I hear my name called from across the courtyard and turn to see my Little and Jess waving me over to the Mu Beta Chi tent. I smile and wave back before pivoting to face Kip again. “Lucky for you, I don’t judge on first impressions. Guess you better practice that tequila joke before we meet again.”
A grin breaks on Kip’s face and I purse my lips together and raise my brows, challenging, before spinning and heading toward Cassie and Jess. I make sure to move my hips just enough to look natural but enticing and chance a glance back over my shoulder. Adam is shaking his head, no stranger to my games, and Kip is still smiling, his eyes not leaving me until after I reach the Mu tent.
“Latching onto the transfer already?” Jess asks, looking over my shoulder at the Alpha Sig tent. She’s pulled her long blonde locks back into a loose pony and a few strands are waving across her face from the breeze. “Can’t say I blame you. I’ve dreamed about near-perfect frat daddies who couldn’t compare to that.”
“That’s the transfer everyone is talking about?” I ask, realizing now that it should have been obvious. He’s clearly not a freshman.
Cassie nods. “Moved here from somewhere in the Midwest from what I heard. Although dressed like that, my bet would have been on New York. What do you think of him, Big?”
I glance back over my shoulder at the tent just as Kip’s eyes lift. He smiles and I inhale deep, steadying my voice. “I think I might have acquired a new target.”
After about an hour of making the rounds at each tent, rush finally started dying down and the girls and I made our way to Alpha Sig. Usually, the best post-rush parties are at Omega Chi Beta, but they got put on probation after suspicion of hazing last semester and are on pretty strict watch. So, tonight we ended up in the cleaner, more classy house of Alpha Sigma.
“You know, I think I could rock those glasses he has on,” Cassie says, eying Kip as a new string of girls begin to parade themselves in front of him. Jesus, the kid has been on campus for all of two days and already he’s being hunted like the shiny new toy in daycare.
“I think he looks ridiculous,” I lie, because I still hate the fact that I’m kind of turned on by a guy who wears nerd glasses. Maybe I’m just a little jealous that the glasses I was forced to wear for all of middle school and most of high school were absolutely hideous on me. I blame them for most of my awkwardness in high school and the fact that I was completely invisible. Luckily, my parents got me contacts senior year and when I came to Palm South I got a fresh start. I was dealt a new hand. No one knew me and that was exactly the way I liked it.
Cassie shrugs. “I love nerds. And do you see his arms? Something tells me he’s not just a book reading, chess playing kind of nerd.”
I bite my lip and adjust my hips against the kitchen counter when she mentions his arms, trying not to let them affect me. “I think you may be reading into this a little too much, Little Nug.”
“Maybe,” she says, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “But at least I’m not denying his hotness when I’m clearly affected.”
I try to fight back my smile but fail miserably and settle for tossing a nearby pong ball at her. Damn it, she’s so right – I am feeling him. And watching the piranha swarm of Zeta Pi Alphas circling him right now is driving me more crazy than I care to admit. I cross my arms over my chest and sigh before I notice a small gold bottle to the left of Cassie.
Jackpot.
“You know what?” I say, snatching the bottle and moving to the fridge to dig up a lime. “You’re right. He is delicious – like a cool slice of key lime pie on a hot summer day. And have you ever known me to turn down key lime pie?”
Cassie laughs and shakes her head. “Nope, never.”
“Exactly. Which is precisely why I can’t start now. After all, I have a very demanding sweet tooth.”
“Right,” she asserts, handing me the shaker of salt from behind her. “I mean, you have a reputation to uphold. You can’t let other girls go scamming on your pie.”
“Indeed.” I wink, walking backward toward Kip and the group hovered by the foosball table. “I’m glad we talked this out, Little Nug. Thanks for being my voice of reason.”
She flicks her wrist and shrugs. “What are Littles for?”
I shoot her a grin before turning on my heels and walking with more purpose toward the table. Sliding between two of the girls gathered around him, I hold the bottle out to Kip and toss the lime up and into the air with my other hand. “What do you say we make this party a little more interesting?”
Kip stops mid-sentence, which irritates pretty much every girl around him but I really don’t care. I don’t consider myself a bitch, but I’ve definitely gotten less shy over the past couple of years. I was shy and timid and lame for my entire life. Palm South woke me up, and there was no way I was going back to that.
His brow lifts as he appraises the bottle. “I thought you caught the end of my story earlier. I don’t do tequila.”
“Well,” I say, setting the bottle on the end of the foosball table and resetting the score. “Then I guess you better kick ass at this game.”
A few of the girls have scattered, but a small crowd is forming around us. I see Adam and Jess make their way through to the front. Jess shakes her head at me but gives an approving wink.
“And if I don’t?” Kip asks, moving to the other side of the table. Perfect. Ante up, big boy.
“Then you’re taking a shot of tequila,” I say simply. “And if you do somehow pull it out and beat me, I’ll take the shot. Fair?”
He tilts his head, skeptic. “I can’t figure out if I’m about to get hustled or not. Plus, who’s to say you don’t love tequila?”
“I hate tequila,” I lie, putting my best poker face to the test. No time for practicing for the tournament like the present, right? “And I never said I suck at foosball. If I did, I wouldn’t be making this wager. Now, are we done pussyfooting around? I want to see your face when I score on you.”
A clip of laughter breaks out around us and I notice the crowd growing. Kip doesn’t seem even slightly fazed. He smiles, rolls his sleeves up a little higher, and takes his position. “You talk a lot for someone who’s about to get skunked.”
I return his smile and scoot the bottle of tequila a little toward him. “I’ll just leave this here. You know, in case you get tired of losing and want to forfeit.”
Adam breaks in and grabs the ball from the middle, holding it in the air. “Okay, both of you shut up already and let your hands do the talking. Ready?”
Kip and I nod and the crowd cheers. As soon as Adam drops the ball through the serving hole, my hands are moving quickly – grabbing at handles and twisting to maneuver the ball. I use my middle row of figures to kick the ball down the table and knock it in effortlessly with an assist from the row closest to Kip’s goalie. Cheers break out and my Little slaps me on the ass with a, “Get him, girl!” before Adam grabs the ball to be served again.
I lift my brow toward Kip and offer a smirk. “Sorry. Was I supposed to be taking it easy on you?”
Usually by now my smart mouth would be earning a reaction, but Kip just smiles and zeroes back in on the table, waiting for the ball to drop. This time, we play back and forth for a few minutes before Kip scores on me.
“You’re not the only one who can get it in the hole,” he spouts off, grinning. I roll my eyes. Adam holds the ball up again, and this time I’ve got my game face on.
Twenty minutes later, the score is nine to eight – I’m up. Just on
e more goal and I win. Pretty much everyone in the Alpha Sig house has gathered around now. You would think we were playing strip foosball instead of just betting a shot of tequila, but apparently we’re entertaining.
Adam holds the ball just outside the serving hole and I smile up at Kip. “Better start cutting that lime, Four Eyes.”
He grins, but still doesn’t seem fazed. I have a bad habit of pissing guys off when I get in my competitive mode, but Kip doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, if anything – I’d say he’s enjoying it.
As soon as the ball hits the table, Kip and I frantically twist and spin our handles, knocking the ball back and forth several times. He gets close to scoring on me but I block last second with my goalie, the ball jamming between the bottom of my peg and the table. I send it flying back toward his goal and look for an opening. A few more passes, screams ringing out, and then I spin with my right hand and one of my figures kicks the ball straight past Kip’s goalie and into the goal.
Score.
Everyone cheers and a few of Kip’s new brothers grab him around the neck and rub his head with their knuckles, laughing as he covers his face with his hands in defeat. Jess and Cassie engulf me in a group hug and I high five them both before grabbing the bottle, lime, and salt and striding over to Kip. “Grab me a knife will you, Little Nug?”
Cassie runs off to the kitchen and I eye my surroundings and see there’s an abandoned, long folding table that was being used for a game of beer pong not too far behind Kip. His eyes meet mine as I get closer, but I walk purposefully past him and use my arm to quickly clear the remaining empty cups off the table.
“Are we playing another game?” he asks, following me.
I shake my head and prop my ass up on the table before taking the knife from Cassie, slicing the lime into wedges. I grab Kip’s hand and falter slightly, the electricity from the touch catching me off guard, but then quickly I lean down and lick the spot between his thumb and pointer finger and then cover it with salt. Smiling at his dumbfounded expression, I lean back. “I said you had to take a shot of tequila if you lost. I didn’t say you’d get to shoot it out of a shot glass.”
I pop one of the lime wedges in my mouth just as everyone cheers. The guys are hooting, pounding their fists in the air, and my sisters who are still hanging around are all yelling our sorority chant about being down to party.
If you didn’t come to party, you shouldn’t have come at all!
We’re swinging from the chandelier and bouncing off the walls!
If you can’t hang with the best, then you might as well leave!
Because we came here to party, we’re motherfucking KKB!”
Kip’s eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging open a little as I lift my shirt up and tuck it just below my bra line. I pour the tequila and it pools in my navel and the crevices of what little stomach definition I have. After I set the bottle back down, I wink up at Kip and pull my hands behind my head, cockily waiting.
A few more brothers slap Kip on his arm, which seems to pull him out of his trance. He looks down at me with determination before licking his hand. Cheers ring out again, and then his mouth is on my skin.
Holy shit.
His lips and tongue work together to suck up the alcohol, his teeth catching my skin between them every now and then. I shiver a little and curse my body because I know I have chills breaking out. Kip notices, too, because I feel him smile against my ribs before he drags the stubble on his jaw up and over my chest, my neck, and bites the lime in my mouth. He sucks it dry and then pulls my mouth to his, and even though the screams are deafening, I feel like I can’t hear a single one. My ears go numb and my skin tingles to life as Kip pulls my bottom lip between his teeth before pressing his lips to mine again. One of his hands is pressed to the side of my face, the pad of his thumb grazing my cheek while the other is grasped firmly on my still wet hip. His lips are soft, but demanding. This might be the hottest kiss I’ve ever had, and yet somehow I’m kind of wishing I would have waited and had it in private. And not because I’m ashamed, but because I don’t want to share.
He pulls back and helps me sit up as the cheers die down and everyone goes back to their business. Jess and Cassie both wink at me and point to the kitchen, indicating for me to meet them there. I nod at them and then place my hands on Kip’s shoulders, hopping down from the table.
“Now that,” I say, locking my eyes on his bright blues and wiping the lime juice from my bottom lip. “Is a first impression.”
I didn’t expect to meet Skyler Thorne when I came to fraternity rush tonight, but damn did she show up. I’ve been talking and playing drinking games with Adam and some of the other brothers all night, but my eyes haven’t left hers for more than a few minutes at a time. Talk to Adam, look up and find her. Sink a shot in beer pong, look up and find her. Go piss, come back and look for her. It’s kind of sick, actually, but I’m not apologizing.
Skyler is unique looking. She’s lean, that much I could tell from meeting her the first time, but she’s also got muscle definition like she surfs or dances or something. Her blue eyes are large, almost too large, and they match the plump misfit that is her bottom lip. God, I loved pulling that lip between my teeth.
Simmer down, Jackson.
Getting involved with a girl is not part of my plan. Hell, I guess rushing technically wasn’t either but you only go to college once, right? I already had to stick it out for my first two years in a community college that can barely even be considered that to appease my father. And now that I have to be stuck in this tiny school in Florida so I can play his little game, I figure there’s no reason not to live it up while I’m here.
“You down for another round?” Kade asks. He accepted his bid for Alpha Sigma tonight, too. He’s a little more jock than the guys I used to hang out with back home, but he seems cool. And truth be told, it’s been a long time since I’ve hung out with guys who liked to do anything other than read or go to acoustic night at the coffee house. His brown hair is a little longer than mine and shaggy, and he has the surfer attitude down pat.
“Nah man,” I say, glancing at my watch. “I got stuck with an early class on Thursdays this semester. I should probably head out.” It’s only halfway lying, I really do have an early class tomorrow, but really I need to go over the email my dad sent about an hour ago. I heard my phone ping and knew it was him, but there was no way I was going to leave in the middle of that foosball game. Skyler had me completely entranced, fascinated by her smart mouth and surprising skills. Still, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe she was putting on a show. I’ve watched her all night, and I can see there’s something uncomfortable about this situation to her – being surrounded by people, by people fixated on reputation, specifically. It’s odd, but I see something behind her baby blue eyes that she’s not telling me.
Yet.
Kade shakes his head. “Better get that grandpa stuff out of your system now. Once pledging starts, you and I won’t be sleeping much.”
I laugh and nod in agreement. “I guess I should savor my z’s while I can still get them.” I slap his hand and say a quick goodbye to Adam before heading toward the door. I catch Skyler watching me leave, but she doesn’t move to say goodnight and I don’t walk toward her. As much as I want to ask her to leave with me, I can’t be focused on her right now when I’m here for another girl in a completely different way. One thing at a time – that needs to be my mantra.
Plus, even if I could take her home tonight, I wouldn’t treat her the way my body really wants me to. Being a writer has some side effects, like being more emotional than I care to admit and looking deeper into people than I should. I’m captivated by Skyler – she’s like the mysterious heroine and I the curious hero. I want to peek behind that mask and get to know Skyler, and not just in bed. Not yet, anyway.
I offer a small wave and she smiles in response before turning back to her sisters, but her eyes snap back to mine just as I slip out the door. Something tells me I’m n
ot the only curious one.
The walk to my apartment isn’t too far from the Alpha Sig house, just across campus and down a block toward the Atlantic. It’s a little chilly tonight, but nothing compared to the weather back in Kansas. January meant wind, snow, and freezing temperatures there. But here in South Florida, it means sunshine, high sixties, and occasionally a day warm enough to catch girls lying by the campus pool. I’ve only been here a little over a week and already I’ve seen more bathing suits than I did the entire summer back home. Unless you had a friend with a swimming pool or were close enough to a lake, bikinis were pretty scarce.
When Dad told me he was sending me to Palm South, I picked the apartment complex closest to the water that I could actually afford. Dad gave me a pretty strict budget each month, but it’s my hope that I’ll be earning a little more on the side to help cover the costs of the fraternity and my social life. I only have a few years left before I have to grow up and do real shit and I’m stuck here whether I want to be or not. I’m going to make the most of it, and I’m certainly not wasting my time worrying about pinching my pennies.
Dad was never on board with me going to my dream school, UCLA, or with my choice in major, either. I can’t say I blame him – it’s not difficult to believe that a hard ass Army Major General would be less than excited about his only son going to college for screenwriting. But, when this half scheme plan of his bloomed in his head, he knew the only way to get me in on it was to promise to send me there if I pulled up my end of the deal. He’s my money source, the only way I could even afford to take classes at a private school like this one and definitely the only way I’ll be able to get through financially out at UCLA, so I have to play by his rules.
For now, anyway.
I can smell the ocean as I climb the stairs to my top floor apartment and unlock the door. It’s studio size, small and homey with large windows facing the water. I’m still a few blocks away from the actual beach, but I can see the ocean just over the trees and buildings separating us. I’ve barely unpacked, but my old movie posters have their places on the wall and my keyboard is set up at the foot of my bed. Other than the curtain I hung, nothing really separates any rooms other than the bathroom. The kitchen is the living room is the bedroom – everything connected. But, for me, it’s perfect.
Black Number Four Page 2
