A Bone to Pick: A New Adult College Romance (Campus Crushes Book 3)

by Rachel Shane

  I answered sunscreen, yoga mat, and a water purifying system, all practical items that could aide in survival. He seemed to take a different approach by choosing a swanky suit, a case of Cristal champagne, and a limo because if he was going to be stranded, he wanted to go out in style. And so it went. Each of us throwing out questions ranging from the trivial (favorite sleeping position. Him: fetal. Me: stomach.) to the fun (superpower of choice. Him: omnipotence, which was apparently the ability to be God, do anything, see anything in the future or past, control anything. So basically he wanted it all and then some. Me: nerves of steel, because then I could break news and break into the biz without breaking a nail.) to the deep (if you could choose your dying last three words, what would they be? Him: fuck you all. Me: I’ll miss you.).

  And then, the clincher: “What’s your biggest secret?”

  I blinked at him, shocked at his question. Asking meant he had to reveal his as well. I only had one big secret, but it wasn’t one he would care about and I’d never broken the sacred vows of Key & Lock. I rocked uncomfortably on the balls of my feet, my pulse beating fast in my neck.

  “Whoa, you must have some secret,” he said, clearly noticing my hesitation.

  “I—I can’t say. I’m bound to keep quiet. In a non-disclosure way.”

  “Then if we tell each other, we’ll be even. My secret’s of the non-disclosure variety as well.”

  I nibbled on my inner cheek, my heart beating fast. I’d never told my roommates about Key & Lock and I knew I could trust them implicitly with my secret. I didn’t trust Trevor. I didn’t even believe his answers tonight were real. He was a pro at becoming what the audience needed to further his own gain. During performances, it was to earn record sales and ticket sales and publicity, whether positive or negative. And with me, it could simply be about getting me on his side so I’d be on board to do anything he needed me to do in order to turn his career around.

  But then there was a part of me that needed to know his secret.

  “If I tell you…”

  “Yeah, yeah, you have to kill me. I know the drill.”

  My head darted around squirrel fast. I rose on tip toes and pressed my lips against his beanie. “I’m a double agent.” I heard him suck in a breath even as his arm tightened around my waist. “I’m also part of a secret society. None of my friends know and it kills me to lie to them day in and day out.”

  “Wow, do you have to do crazy rituals? I’ve heard bad things about those. I mean, mostly from horror movies, but still.”

  “Yes to the crazy rituals. But thankfully no one I know has been murdered. And what about you?” I held my breath.

  “This is all an act.”

  My throat closed and I started to push away.

  “It killed me every time I had to act like a jerk, every time I had to thrust up my middle finger rather than say a polite thank you. Every time I had to push over a bowl of M&Ms backstage because they accidentally included a brown one even though I didn’t give a fuck. Every time someone presented me with some opportunity to make myself look better and I found a way to do the opposite. Because when I signed the contract to be Clever Trevor, to be the lie that went up on stage and opened my mouth with no sound coming out while a fake voice boomed, I became a character. And the character my publicist wanted me to be was someone untouchable. Someone who could make headlines by any means necessary. Because nothing gets press more than someone you’re watching to see when they crash and burn.”

  It was all an act. The nice guy persona he’d shown me in private over the last few days was the real him. It was all for real.

  I leaned toward him and pressed my mouth against his. He responded in an instant, his soft lips parting for mine. I’d wanted a sweet kiss, the start of something, but instead the desire pulsing between my legs took over. My fingers knotted in the hair sticking out of his beanie and I let out a moan as he pressed himself hard against me. Every part of him came alive on the outside while inside I was a rush of fire and tingles. He trailed sparks down my bare arms before clutching my waist and squeezing my ass. Our tongues revolved in a tug-o-war, only pausing with enough time for him to take my lower lip in his teeth and suck gently.

  He pushed off the metal stairwell and twisted until he leaned me against the back wall. And then he sealed his body against mine, chest to chest, hip to hip, until there was nothing between us but clothes and skin. The music pulsing encouraged my hips to sway, to buck, to practically mount him on the dance floor surrounded by hundreds of people. But they were meaningless, just blips on the radar. All that mattered were his lips on my own.

  Holy shit. I was kissing Clever Trevor. No, I was kissing Trevor Cardinelli.

  At least one rumor about him was true. He was a fucking good kisser.

  A vibrating between our sealed bodies made us pull apart. He slid his phone out of his pocket and lit up the display in the dark, illuminating his swollen lips. A text from Cliff with only a thumbs up emoji.

  “What’s that about?”

  He settled his phone back in his pocket. “Don’t worry about it.”

  So I didn’t. We reconnected, picking up the fervor of the kissing in an instant. Already I had thoughts about abandoning my stuffy twin bed, sprawling out on Trevor’s king tonight, running my hands over the contours of his pecs as he plowed deep inside me.

  But then there was a tap on my shoulder. It took great effort to pull away, amplified by the glare Trevor directed behind my head. I twisted around to find Harrison standing there with a grave face, holding up a phone at me that shone so brightly, I had to close my eyes. Bianca stood next to him wearing a look of utter sympathy.

  Trevor reached for the phone first, grabbing it and holding it high in the air. Away from me. Like a game of monkey in the middle as a kid and I was the one being left out.

  Their expressions set my teeth on edge. “Wh—what is it?”

  Bianca quietly handed me her phone and I stepped out of Trevor’s embrace before he could swipe away her phone, too. I cupped my hand over to screen to shield it, from who or what, I wanted sure. My eyes blinked at the headline, trying to make sense. The TMZ logo blared red and aggressive in the corner and my eyes shifted to the time and date of the post in question. Two minutes ago. I read the headline again: Will They Or Won’t They? Spoiler Alert: They Will.

  I scrolled down to the image and gasped when I saw my own face. Or well, part of it. The other half was pressed up against Trevor’s lips. His hand cupped my ass. And the article went on to talk about how our flirtation battle on the viral podcast now had an answer. We’d hooked up. Implied connotation: we were already fucking.

  When I glanced at Trevor, a muscle in his jaw feathered. He handed Harrison back his phone in defeat.

  I pressed a palm against my forehead as I connected the dots. The story was posted two minutes ago. Two minutes ago, Trevor received a text from Cliff.

  “I can explain,” Trevor said, but he didn’t reach for me. He didn’t even try.

  I was a fucking idiot. I stumbled backward. “Was this planned in advance? That you would kiss me and someone would be there to catch it and send it viral?” I thought back to the very reason we’d come to Quigley’s—because Trevor had suggested it.

  His face darkened. “Yes, but—”

  A strangled sound I didn’t recognize broke from my throat. I turned toward the front entrance and stalked away. He hadn’t wanted to get to know me; those questions were the oldest trick in the Broadcast Journalism book. Throw the subject softball questions to get them to trust you and then go in for the kill. He hadn’t kissed me because he wanted to. The only thing he wanted from me was publicity.

  MY LEGS WOBBLED AS I weaved through the crowd of Quigley’s, desperate to get out. The sobs I was holding back piled on top of each other, threatening to crush me. I’d wanted a night of passion sprawled in Trevor’s bed, but I would have to settle for a night of ice cream swirling in my gut and cucumbers placed over my puffy red eyes. How c
ould I be so stupid to let my heart out of its cage for a wild animal? He’d told me it was all an act but he hadn’t meant his belligerent self. He’d meant his seduction of me.

  Bodies crowded against me, packing closer, each one dancing directly in the path I wanted to take. With a frustrated scream against a loud bass that drowned it out, I pushed my way to the counter, attempting to skirt the perimeter and get the fuck out of here before I lost control. Before I made the next post of TMZ with a headline like DUMB GIRL PROVEN DUMBER. I lifted my eyes to the entrance where I spotted Keane, strutting inside as if he owned the place. He paused right at the door like a runway model stopping at the edge of the stage, letting the audience take him in from all angles, before pushing forward and throwing his head back in a shampoo commercial twirl that sent his neatly combed locks flopping in a sexy way.

  I had been an idiot but I could make the right choice this time. The guy who was actually interested in me, rather than the guy who only wanted me for the wrong reasons. And those reasons didn’t even seem to include sex.

  Per the rules of Key and Lock, members were never supposed to acknowledge each other in public. It was part of why we were so successful: no one could ever guess who the members were. But I was done following the rules. This time, I wanted to follow my heart.

  Focus. Deep breath. One foot in front of the other. No nerves or hesitation. With my mantra complete, I stormed to the counter where Keane leaned toward the bartender, one hand raised in the air. I was so used to being poised and perfect, a little adjustment to my usual gait derailed me completely.

  Keane was already trading laughs with the bartender, throwing his head back in a riotous guffaw. The girl next to him sent him death glares, and I guessed she had been waiting far longer. She directed those same death glares at me when I squeezed in between her and Keane. I made sure to brush my arm against his.

  The slight tickle trick worked and his head swiveled in my direction. And then his face dropped and he quickly looked away.

  I glanced down at our arms, pressed together side by side, and bit my lip in the sexiest way I could. Like this was all a mistake. Like we were two strangers, meeting at random. “Whoops. Sorry,” I said, resisting the urge to tack on a giggle. But I knew that wasn’t what attracted Keane. He liked me for my intelligence, not my ability to turn up the charm.

  When Keane only nodded at me and started to turn away again, I switched it up a notch. Words left my mouth I would normally never utter, taken from the cues of my friends who were far better at both flirting and keeping guys than I was. “Okay, that was a lie. I’m not sorry.”

  His head twisted back toward me incrementally, as if he wasn’t ready to fully commit to looking in my direction. A brow lifted. And then his eyes narrowed in warning. But something behind me caught his attention because all of a sudden his gaze softened. “Hmm, that was either really rude, or really forward.”

  In my peripheral vision, I saw the girl next to me watching us. Listening. That was why he flirted. A brush off would have looked suspicious.

  I leaned toward him, sucking in a whiff of his expensive cologne. Not as musky as Trevor’s, Keane’s was spicier. Intoxicating. Inviting. “The latter. Definitely the latter.”

  He tilted his whole body toward me now, his dark eyes tracing me up and down. My news anchor smile tried to jump onto my face but I kept my lips pressed, my face stoic.

  A small smile crested his lips. “You’re certainly making a memorable first impression.” He emphasized the word first. “But, I should be going.” He gave me a pointed look.

  Across the way, I flinched when I lifted my eyes and met Trevor’s behind Keane’s shoulder. He was pleading with me with a subtle jerk of his chin to come talk to him. Instead, I grabbed Keane’s arm and spun him back to face me. “What’s the rush?”

  He leaned into me then, his scruff brushing against my ear. “What are you doing? You know this isn’t allowed.”

  “I’m doing something about what you said the other night.” I trailed my fingers up his arm the way I’d done to Trevor several times tonight. “As far as everyone else sees it, we’re just two strangers meeting in a bar.”

  “And it’s not a coincidence that one of those strangers was just left jilted by a TMZ-kissing scandal?” He raised a brow at me.

  I bit my lip, the color leeching from my face. “You saw that?”

  “Our alumni chairperson texted me the link.”

  Cold panic crawled up my spine. Shit. It had already gotten to the Key & Lock board members?

  “They want to ensure you keep in mind that your actions reflect on the organization as a whole.” He sipped his drink. God, he was sexy, with the scruff and carefree attitude that didn’t match his cool and calculated actions. “Don’t worry, I reminded him your actions are doing exactly what Key & Lock wants: making you valuable.” He lowered his voice, leaning closer. “You’re not really interested in that cheating asshole, are you? This was all a publicity stunt, right?”

  My heart thumped. The words not interested lodged in my throat, refusing to budge. I switched gears. “I’m done making bad decisions. Help me make a good one.”

  Keane studied me for a moment, pursing his lips. He always had my back at the rituals, making sure I was okay, and I could see the wheels in his mind turning as he considered how to do the same without breaking the sacred Key & Lock codes. “Fuck it,” he finally said. “If anyone from the org asks, it was the text from the chairman that forced me to talk to you tonight.” He nodded to my empty hands. “What are you having?” He pulled out another ten from his pocket and held it out to the bartender.

  Already I felt better about this distraction…er…decision.

  “Gin and tonic,” I said without thinking, then remembered that wasn’t what I liked to drink at all. That was Trevor’s drink from earlier, still plastered on my mind along with the imprint of his kiss on my lips. Still, when Keane raised his brow at me, I owned it. I’d long ago learned the best way to edge my way into a former boy’s only club was to drink like the boys, swear like the boys, and hold my own against them. I considered this all part of my secret society membership requirement.

  He snapped his fingers, the most animated gesture I’d ever seen from him. The bartender shuffled over on cue, and the girl on the other side of me blew out her bangs in annoyance. She still hadn’t ordered. I expected Keane to order but instead he nodded to the girl beside us. “She’s been waiting a while.”

  I faced forward while the girl ordered followed by Keane, keeping my eyes focused on him only and not where they wanted to focus: roaming around the room to find out if Trevor left or not. The bartender plunked my gin and tonic down, which glowed in the backlight. Keane lifted his cup and winked. “To good decisions.”

  I raised my glass. “And forgetting all those bad decisions.”

  Keane laughed. “I’ll drink to that,” and I wondered if he meant his ex-girlfriend.

  I lifted my cup to my mouth in what was supposed to be a sexy way. The spicy liquid burned as it touched my lips, and the cringe welled in my stomach before rushing to my face. I stopped it though, grinding my teeth and sneaking small droplets of liquid down my throat in the hopes of tricking my esophagus into ignoring them. Each droplet scorched like a thousand fires. My eyes watered.

  But I kept my damn smile on my face as if it was the only thing keeping me from falling off a cliff.

  “So, speaking of good ideas…” Keane clutched my hip in a firm way, not a loose way like Trevor. His hot breath sent goosebumps down my spine. “I think this”—he gestured between our bodies—”is a great idea but I think this”—he pointed out toward the crowd—”is a bad idea. But here’s my new idea. I’m going to politely say goodbye now, make a show of it, and how about we reconvene—”

  “In your bedroom?” I asked before I could stop myself. I wasn’t usually this forward. Or promiscuous.

  Keane squeezed his eyes shut. “God, I would love that. But I don’t want you to be
a rebound. And I don’t want to be one either.”

  “I’m not dating Trevor,” I said, a little too defensively.

  “I want to take you on a date tomorrow night before the Key & Lock meeting. A real one. Away from campus where we won’t be seen, of course, but a real one nonetheless. I want to get to know you outside of the meetings.”

  It was exactly what Trevor had said to me—I want to get to know you—but this time I believed him. And his suggestion was the opposite of Trevor’s too. Trevor only wanted to be seen with me in public. Keane wanted to keep me to himself.

  I WAS GOING ON a date with Keane Fitzsimmons. I was going to forget Trevor Cardinelli ever existed. I was going to choose right this time. Trevor would be a business venture, nothing more. Keane would be something more.

  It was this thought that carried me to sleep and this thought that buoyed me when I woke up. I practically hopped out of bed, eager to use my moment of energy—and an empty room—to make some progress on my long overdue homework before my last class of the week.

  I popped open my laptop. My eyes bugged out at the slew of emails clogging my inbox. I usually received maybe one or two not including all the newsletters I subscribed to (and the penis enlargement ads that spam companies somehow thought I needed?). But there were 175 new emails glaring at me, all from Throckmorton students, all with similar subjects like Rush? Or Do you know anything?

  I clicked on one, holding my breath.

  Hi Erin,

  I’m a freshman here and heard a rumor you might be organizing an unofficial rush for the underground sorority. Can you please let me know details? My friends and I are eager to join Underground Rho Sigma!

  -Carly

  I squinted at the screen in confusion. Hadn’t Layla been planning an impromptu rush process? Wasn’t that what the pep rally was about? I clicked on the next email.

  Help us! We know something’s going on but we can’t figure out what. Someone said you and Layla might be working together? I hope that’s true. I’ll be tuning in to your podcast tonight for details.