Greek (Palm South University)

“I agree,” Derek says. “But honestly, I don’t see how these goals are achievable.” He reads from the list. “Win the IM football championship, create a new annual Alpha Sigma event with high Greek Life attendance, host a social at a new and exciting venue?” He shakes his head. “We need actual athletes. And money.”

“You’ve got more talent here than you give yourself credit for. I’ve been watching the guys, and I think if we talk to the Athletics Chair, we can get them to gather the new pledges as well as the older brothers together and get a good team going. We have two weeks until the sign-up date, three weeks until the first game.”

“And what about this fancy new event?” Corey asks. “Who’s going to come up with that?”

“The brothers, of course,” I say without blinking. “This is their chapter. They’re young and creative, give them a shot to come up with some ideas that we can sign off on. That’s our role, after all,” I remind them.

There’s a pregnant pause before Jared sighs and drops his binder to the table. “I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Listen, guys, I know it’s hard to step out of the comfort zone, to throw all our eggs into baskets we can’t even see yet. But I’ve been trained,” I say, trying to earn their trust. “Give me a chance to prove I know what I’m doing. And if you still feel like I’m a nutcase by the end of the semester, I’ll write to nationals myself and ask them to place me elsewhere.”

“I don’t know why they sent you in the first place,” Corey mutters, which earns him an eye roll from Shawn that I smirk at.

“Let me talk with the Athletics Chair,” I say calmly. “We became fast friends over Rush Week. And at our next chapter, I’ll introduce the event, get the brothers excited and thinking.”

“I guess we don’t really have a choice,” Jared says.

I smile and nod, letting them know the meeting is over.

Because no — they don’t have a choice.

I saw Ricky, the Athletics Chair, playing beer pong in the backyard on my way up to the meeting, so I stop to talk to him on my way out the door. As I expected, he’s pumped about the challenge, and a few brothers in the yard are already chomping at the bit to help him put the team together.

I clap him on the back and leave them to it, then check my watch, deciding I should head to the Student Union to fill out paperwork and get a date reserved for our on-campus event.

On the way, I text Cassie, and I’m so locked into our conversation that I don’t notice the poor girl crossing my path until I run her over, literally knocking her over and leaving her sprawled out on the lawn below me.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” I say, hurriedly putting my phone away before I reach down a hand to help her up.

The girl has long, thick, messy black hair and tattoos lining both her arms. When she looks up at me, I’m knocked silent by shocking blue-green eyes outlined by dark charcoal and lashes. Her dusty-pink lips curve into a smile at the sight of me, and she lets me take her hand and pull her up.

She’s wearing a tight, crop t-shirt with some band name I don’t recognize, and I swear on my life her tits are bigger than any I’ve ever seen in person. Pair that with her slim waist, thick hips, and ripped-up black jeans, and she’s in a whole league of her own. My eyes flick to her combat boots that I’m hoping she doesn’t want to stomp me with, but she just dusts herself off with a chuckle once she’s fully upright, arching a brow at me.

“It’s all good. Maybe keep an eye on the road there, though, eh?”

I try to smile against the grimace coming to me naturally. “Sorry,” I say again. Stupidly.

The girl just nods, and then with a curious smile, she leaves me and continues on her way.

Stitched into the pocket of her backpack are the letters ?BG, and I can’t help but shake my head, because I would have bet money she was at least a grad student, if not older.

I think of when I met Cassie, how sweet and innocent she was, how she was naturally beautiful without a stitch of makeup on, how she looked so young and full of life. This girl was built like a woman, with eyes that told me she had stories and scars alike.

But times are changing, and young girls don’t look as young to me as they should, I guess.

I shake my head, pulling out my phone again as I continue on my way to the Union.