Campus Hottie (Campus)

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Although it looks like that’s changed. I shift my weight and narrow my eyes. “Does Brayden know?” The question shoots out of my mouth before I can stop it.

Her expression cools as she straightens her shoulders. “No, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention it. You know how ridiculously overprotective he is.” Her face scrunches as she shakes her head. “If I’d realized he was going to be all up in my business every second of the day, I would have attended a different university.”

Whether she wants to admit it or not, there was no way Brayden would have allowed that to happen.

“There’s a good chance he’ll show up on his own. I’m pretty sure I heard Sydney and Demi talking about it earlier this week.” If I’m lucky, that will be enough to change her—

“Thanks. I appreciate the warning.” She shoots me a conspiratorial smile. “I’ll keep my eye out for him.”

Great.

Before I have the chance to throw out any other deterrents, she waves before taking off down the path.

Fuck.

Looks like I’m in need of a costume for tomorrow.

Chapter Three

Elle

“Girl, you look totally hot!” Sierra says as we walk from the dorms to Fraternity and Sorority Row, which is located a few blocks off campus.

I tug the backside of the red and black sequined short shorts I’m wearing. They barely cover my cheeks. Thankfully the weather cooperated this evening or I’d be freezing my assets off. Fishnet stockings and a pair of lace-up boots that match the shorts are the only thing covering my legs. A midriff baring T-shirt that says ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’ along with a red and blue jacket completes the ensemble.

Madison tugs one of the colorful pigtails from the blonde wig I’m wearing. “If I didn’t know it was you beneath all that clothing and make up, I would never have guessed.”

I snort. “Thanks...I think.”

She grins and knocks her shoulder into mine. “You know what I meant. You always look so damn polished and put together with your matchy-matchy outfits. It’s nice to see you slum it with the rest of us for a change.”

I roll my eyes before giving her a little shove in return. “They’re hardly matchy-matchy,” I grumble under my breath. Not that I’ll admit it to her, but I like to color coordinate. Is that such a crime?

“What?” she chuckles. “It’s true. Don’t get your sparkly panties in a twist, I still love you. Matchy outfits and all.”

The one-fingered salute I aim in her direction only makes her laugh harder.

“See?” she continues. “Now your personality is more in line with your costume.”

My lips lift into a good-natured smile. “You better hope I don’t go all Harley Quinn on your ass.”

“Save all that sass for the boys,” she shoots back. “Of which there will be many. Hopefully they won’t be a bunch of drunk assholes.”

I’ve had enough run-ins with the guys from this fraternity to know that it could go either way.

As we turn the corner, the Sig Ep house comes into view. Even if you lived under a rock and were totally clueless about tonight’s festivities, it would be impossible to miss. Loud music emanates from the two-story Victorian as people loiter on the front lawn with the requisite red Solo cup in hand. There isn’t one single person who isn’t in costume. It’s the only ticket into the party.

The four of us make our way up the crowded cement walkway to the rickety front porch steps. A pledge who barely looks old enough to be in college mans the door. He gives every girl a once-over before waving us inside the dark interior. Strobe lights flash through the first floor. Here’s hoping no one is prone to seizures or we’re all in trouble.

“Looking good, Harley!” he calls after me.

I give him a quick wave before getting swept away by a sea of rowdy revelers.

“Let’s make sure we all stick together,” Sierra yells in order to be heard over the pulsing beat of music that reverberates off the walls and in my bones.

“Good idea,” Madison calls back, scanning the thick press of bodies. “It’s even more crowded than last year!”

Sierra, who’s dressed as a sexy nurse since she’s in the registered nursing program, leads the charge, pushing and shoving people out of her way. She might be small and pixie-like, but she has a big personality. And she’s not afraid to stand up for herself or her friends when the occasion calls for it.

I take in all the great costumes until my gaze lands on a familiar blond head and my heart stutters unwantedly in my chest. After our conversation yesterday morning, I hadn’t expected to see Carson this evening. His costume—if you can even call it that—is a football jersey with his name stamped across the back above his number.