Ritual - Palm South University

I narrow my eyes, annoyance mixing with the ridiculous attraction I have for this kid and making me want to slap myself. When I first agreed to this insane proposition at our formal last semester, it was because I was in a dire state. I was still heartbroken over Jarrett, and — if I were being completely honest — I was fascinated by the thought of being in power over this young buck. I would be his teacher, his Dom, his sexual sensei.

Above all, he would be a distraction from Jarrett.

And after our first romp in the sack to gauge just what kind of lessons would be needed, I discovered that bulge I’d seen in his swim trunks at Spring Break was just the tip — and not of the iceberg.

But now, I was busy with recruitment. And when it was over, I’d be busy with my last semester of college. Plus, this little fucker had played me. It was all his idea, for me to help him with his game, teach him how to flirt and date and fuck like a pro — and then he’d bailed. After one round, he flaked.

Still, I can’t deny the way my body is heated at the sight of his tattoos peeking out from under his tight t-shirt — tattoos that I know spread across his chest and abdomen and down the length of his muscular back. It should be illegal for a kid this young to be this ripped, but even if it was, I have a feeling Kade would break the law.

I appraise him, and before the words are out of my mouth, I wonder if I’m conceding because I want to, because I feel bad for him, or because I’m annoyed and need him off my porch so I can get back to recruiting the best damn rush class our sorority has ever seen.

“Fine,” I grit, but before Kade can thrust his fist all the way into the air, I wrap my hand around it and hold it firmly. “But you will follow through with your part of the deal this time.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“The car,” I remind him. “I want your keys. Now.”

“I don’t have them on me.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.” I turn to head back inside, but Kade rounds me quickly, holding up his hands.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, fishing his keys from his pocket. He holds them out to me with a cringe. “Please, don’t wreck it.”

I smile wickedly, snatching the keys from his grasp before I press up on my toes. “Oh, sweetheart. The only thing I plan on wrecking is you.”

I thread my hands into his hair, tugging with enough force to make him suck in a breath through his teeth before my mouth covers his. I kiss him like I hate him, and I know I’ll fuck him the same way later.

“Don’t touch your dick until the next time I see you,” I whisper against his mouth before I bite his bottom lip. “Don’t masturbate, don’t edge, don’t even hold it any longer than you have to to piss. Understand me?”

Kade swallows, and I don’t miss the twitch of his already-growing erection in his basketball shorts. “There she is,” he whispers on a grin.

I grin back, leaning in like I’m going to kiss him again, but then I shove him away and maneuver around him, pushing through the front door of the Kappa Kappa Beta house and shutting it again before he can say a word.

You want to play, Kade Brewer?

Fine.

Let’s play.FAMILY.

That one word can mean so many things.

It can mean a house on a hill with two parents who adore you, and an older sibling who cares for you, and grandparents and aunts and uncles who gather near for holidays. It can mean someone to lean on — always — no matter what you’re going through. It can mean safety, and comfort, and support.

Family can also mean a mother addicted to drugs and gambling, and an older brother who follows in her footsteps. It can mean the parents of your best friend taking you in as their own, like my little brother and Mac. Like me and Skyler.

It can mean never really feeling like you had a family at all, and so you build one at the college you go to, surrounding yourself with fraternity brothers and sorority girls and making your own dysfunctional unit.

Or it can mean a baby, one of your own.

One never born.

One you never knew existed — not before it was too late to have a say in whether it stayed that way or not.

It’s the Saturday before fall semester, and I should be happy. It’s my senior year, my fraternity is finally off suspension, I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in, and I’ve got the hottest, smartest, kindest girl I’ve ever known wrapped around me in my bed. Skyler is here, too, sitting in the bean bag on my floor with her feet propped up on my desk as she relays her summer to us. She and Becca have become friends — my two favorite girls — and yet, still, there’s a hollowness inside me.