I’d been at a party. Texted Hot Girl, picked her up for a random adventure, and now I was home after dropping her off. It was a few minutes till four in the morning on a Monday night, but this was college. This was life. This was what I was supposed to be doing: staying out, going where I wanted—not sleeping a solid eight hours a night and being wifed up.
Nothing against my brother’s girlfriend, but the writing was on the wall. Mason and Sam had been through too much at an early age; they were going to be together forever. And that was the kicker. I don’t even think they cared. They probably relished the idea of being only in each other’s arms for the rest of their ninety years. I wasn’t giving them an extra ten. Shit, Sam might endure that long—who knew if all that running she did was good for her body or was slowly killing her.
Nah, I guessed she’d tucker out around eighty-nine. My big brother? Seventy-five, and that was being generous. He was too cold, calculating, and disciplined. He’ll have been under too much stress to make it longer than that.
Me, on the other hand, a solid eighty-three. And a horny eighty-three, too. I’d be doing the same shit as now. I’d get my tacos delivered to me in an old folks’ home, preferably by some young thing. The idea had merit. I grinned as I headed inside, thinking of the sponge baths.
I stopped just inside. The kitchen light was on. We never kept that light on.
“Hello?” I walked inside and spotted Mason locking the back door. “Hey. What are you doing up?” I smiled again. “Had a fight with the wife?”
He scowled, scratching the top of his head as he walked past me to the hallway. “No, you asshole. I had to pick up Nate.”
“Nate…” My voice trailed off, and I took in how my brother was dressed: Sweatshirt. Sweatpants. Bags under his eyes, his hair slightly messed up, and tired lines around his mouth—well, fuck. “I forgot him at the party, didn’t I?” I looked around, but no one had come in behind Mason. “Where is he?”
“Yeah. You left him. I dropped him off at the hotel.”
I groaned, grabbing on to the back of my neck. That was even worse. “His parents are in town.” The pieces were coming back to me. Nate hadn’t wanted to go to the party. But I did, so I talked him into it with the promise that we’d only be gone a few hours. His parents were arriving tonight—make that last night. “They were going to be jet-lagged, so he wanted to stay up and surprise them at the hotel. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Mason shook his head. “I hope the chick was worth it.”
“The chick?” That’s what they thought. I left him to have sex. I shook my head. “I’m not that shallow. I mean, come on.”
Mason stood half in the dark hallway now, half still in the kitchen’s light. His face was masked with shadows, but I caught the grin. “You didn’t leave the party because of some girl?”
“I did, but—”
He snorted a laugh. “That’s your problem. Whatever you did and whoever it was with, I hope it was worth it. Nate is pissed.” He walked backward toward his room. “And lucky for you, you sleep next door to him.”
I hadn’t left him to have sex. I knew that even when Taylor texted back. She wasn’t that type of girl. But hearing it from my brother, I couldn’t tell Nate the truth. It’d be even worse that I’d left him to not have sex. He wouldn’t understand. I’d dropped the ball. Nate was my brother’s best friend, but because all three of us grew up together, we were family. We all lived in the same house, along with Samantha, my future stepsister and Mason’s “wife.”
“’Night, little bro. You’ll make it up to him. Don’t stress about it.” Mason paused before going into his bedroom. “Hey.” His voice had softened.
“Yeah?”
“Did you have fun?”
“What?”
“With the girl. If you didn’t have sex with her, did you have fun, at least?”
I scratched behind my ear. Did I have fun? “I thought you didn’t want to know.”
Mason lifted a shoulder. “You’re a little different tonight.”
I scowled. “I am?” I didn’t want to hear crap like that. I was the same. “I was leaving to get food anyway. I forgot Nate was there because he was the one off with some girl. Not me. I’ve had a very asexual night.”
“Logan.”
“What?” My scowl didn’t go away. That bothered me.
“I was joking. You’re the same sarcastic jackass you always are.”
“Oh thank God.” I pressed a hand to my chest, giving him a watery grin. “That scared the living shit out of me. Don’t do that.” Sam called to him from inside the bedroom, and I waved him off. “Go back to Sam. Sleep tight, big brother. You’ve got a day full of twofers tomorrow.” Which reminded me… “Oh hey,” I added as he opened his door. He glanced back at me. “The coaches had a rough night. All four of them spent the night at the head coach’s house tonight.”
He cursed. “Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
A second, third, and fourth curse. “That means we’ll be doing sprints all practice.”
I laughed. “Have a good night.” I yelled past him, “You, too, Sam.”
“Stop talking so we can go to bed!” she yelled back.
Mason closed the door behind him, and I went to the kitchen.
MINDF*CKING PARTNER IN CRIME
TAYLOR
“What did you say to him?”
The sight of Jason waiting outside my classroom building hadn’t registered before he saw me and pounced. Well, he didn’t pounce, but it was almost the same thing. He straightened from the building, crushed out his cigarette, and flung a hand in the air as he rushed over to meet me. His hair stuck up all over, like he’d been running his hand through it.
“Uh…” Wait a minute. I frowned. “What are you doing here? You don’t go to school here.”
“I’m waiting for you.” He glared and crossed his arms over his scrawny chest. “Kade turned me down. He asked for my competitor’s number instead.”
My mouth twitched. I wouldn’t laugh. “He did?” I could feel myself smiling. I couldn’t stop it.
“It’s not funny. Do you know how much money I lost out on?”
I shrugged. “Look, I told him you’d do it. That was my job. I didn’t say anything else about it.”
“Then why’d he change his mind?”
“I don’t know.” A swarm of students headed inside—even the smokers were going in. “I have to go to class. Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
“Because I can’t.”
I started for the door, but turned around to walk backward. “What do you mean?”
“He called me from a disposable phone. It’s not in use anymore.” I could see the wheels start to turn as he spoke. His gaze went to my hands, which were empty, then shifted to my book bag.
“No.” I shook my head, stopping before I hit the door.
“You have his real number. He doesn’t give that out.”
I reached behind me, finding the door handle. “Apparently with good reason.” My hand tightened around the handle. “And no, you can’t use mine.”
“Come on…”
I gave him a look.
He trailed off, his shoulders dropping in a sigh. “Fine. Okay.”
“I have class. If you want, I’ll brainstorm new jobs with you.”
“New jobs?” He lifted a hand to scratch his head.
“You know, so you’ll stop with the gambling stuff. Because you know I hate it.”
“Uh…” He bit his lip and glanced around. “I think you’re going to be late for class.” He gestured behind me. “You should get going. We’ll talk later, maybe this weekend.” He began backing away.
I waited, watching him go. No matter which side he was on—taking the bets or making the bets—it was all the same to me. Same world. A dangerous world. I repressed a sigh. Jason would never stop. He’d just stop being honest with me about it.
But at the moment he was right. I needed to get to class. I was a few minutes
late, but I slipped into one of the back chairs unnoticed. Or I thought I was unnoticed. I looked to the front of the room to find Jeremy Fuller, the TA from yesterday’s class, leading this one as well. He had the syllabus projected on the wall and pointed at it as he ran through what was expected of students.
Without interrupting his speech, he grabbed a piece of paper and began walking toward me. He was explaining which textbooks were approved for the class when he placed the sheet of paper on my desk. Glad to see you made it, he’d written. My cheeks warmed, and I glanced up. He’d moved on to the criteria for an A grade, but he winked at me as he headed back to the front of the room. A couple of girls next to me witnessed the exchange, and I could feel their speculative gazes.
But whatever. I didn’t think their attention was academically rooted. I looked over and one girl was still glaring at me. That was definitely not academic jealousy. Jeremy Fuller was good looking. I’d noticed it yesterday too, but he was the TA. I wasn’t one of those girls who signed up to screw the TA for a better grade. Glaring Girl did not have to worry. At all.
I ignored her, and eventually she turned her heated looks back to the TA. When class was over, I grabbed my stuff to make a quick getaway. I felt like Jeremy might try to talk to me afterwards. Maybe I should’ve stayed and apologized for being late, but I didn’t want to draw any more attention.
I was almost in the clear when I heard my name behind me. “Taylor.”
I cringed and turned around, pushing back against the stream of students leaving around me. Jeremy waved me back into the class, and I could see the glaring girl waiting beside him. Of course. Gritting my teeth, I went back inside, but stood next to the wall. I didn’t want to step any closer. I didn’t want to fight. Not with her. Not with anyone. I just wanted to go to school and move on with my life.
“Glad you came today.” Jeremy handed something to another student and spoke to me, reaching for his bag. He began putting his remaining papers and books in there.
The girl cleared her throat, slinking up right next to his table. “Jeremy?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, Sarah. I didn’t see you there.”
She didn’t look amused. Her eyes grew flat, but her smile didn’t slip a notch. “I was hoping to ask about the Honors Study Group. I heard you were leading it this year?”
“Oh.” His eyes shifted to me, then back to her. “You know that’s only open to students in the top two percent of their classes. You…” He faltered, letting out a small sigh. His hand curled around his bag strap. “You know you’re not in that two percent.”
She stepped back as if he’d hit her. Her sultry smile disappeared. I expected her to snap, but all she did was murmur, “Oh, okay.” She hung her head and pulled her hands away from the table. “I’ll just have to get there then.”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice cheery. He cleared his throat, glancing to me again. “We can see where you are after midterms. We add new students mid-semester anyway.”
“Okay.” She peeked back at him, a glimmer of a new smile wafting over her face. “Thank you, Jeremy.”
“Uh, sure.” He moved back from the table, holding his bag in front of him like a shield. “If you don’t mind, Sarah…” He nodded in my direction. “I need to talk to the new transfer.”
She looked at me, and the transformation was remarkable. Her eyes chilled. Her smile remained, but it became menacing. And I swear the room grew cold. A shiver moved up my arms, but I refused to cross them over my chest. I lifted my chin as she continued to look at me.
Her eyes narrowed.
So did mine.
Jeremy cleared his throat again. “Sarah, if you can go ahead? I’m going to lock the room behind me.”
“Yeah. Sure.” She cast one more glance over her shoulder before accepting defeat. She readjusted her backpack, gripping the strap where it lay over her shoulder, and scurried out the door. I stepped out behind her, with Jeremy bringing up the rear. I was cautious as I moved into the hallway. If she could’ve slung her bag to hit me, I think she would have, but she didn’t.
My stomach relaxed as I saw her hurry down the hallway to the main entryway.
“Sorry about that.” Jeremy closed the door and locked it. He stepped around me with a smile and extended his arm to lead the way. “Professor Gayle lets me use her office in between classes. We can go there.”
I followed as he went to the back hallway where professors had their offices. He paused in front of the last one.
“Am I in trouble?” I asked.
He opened the door, but looked back, surprised. “Why would you be?”
“Because I was late.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “No, not at all. I want to talk to you about what that other student asked about.”
I tilted my head. “The Honors thingy?”
He laughed a second time as he placed his bag on the cluttered desk and sat down in the chair. He motioned to the door. “If you don’t mind, do you want to close that?” As I did, he pointed to the empty chair across from him. “You can take a seat.”
Once I sat down, he leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “We tell students that the Honors Study Group is only for those in the top two percent, but that’s not entirely true. It’s for whomever we choose. But more than likely the top two percent are among them. The group consists of the best students in the nursing program. We get together every other Thursday evening to do…” He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Just about anything. We study together, give each other pointers, help with papers and study guides, or just hang out. The last time we went bowling, and the time before that, one of the girls had us over to her house.” He paused, a secretive smile on his face. “That was an interesting night indeed.”
I felt like I was going to be inducted into a secret society of nerds—the kind who were entitled, self-righteous pricks who got off on how smart they were. If Claire were sitting where I was, she would be drooling at the exclusiveness. This guy was either going to invite me in or tell me how to apply. I bit my lip. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with this, whatever it was, but a voice in my head kept me from outright saying no. It reminded me that sometimes it pays to put up, shut up, and see if there are benefits to being asked.
I kept quiet, hearing him out.
“Anyway.” He clasped his hands together and rested them on the desk. “Gayle wanted me to ask if you’d be interested in joining us.”
Gayle, as in Professor Gayle.
I frowned. He’d said the day before that she’d called in some favors because of my dad. Understanding flooded over me. This was because of my dad. “She’s doing my dad a favor?”
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Uh…yeah, but it’s not all because of your dad. Before your, uh, before what happened last year, you were in the top five percent of your class. Professor Gayle feels you’d fit in perfectly with the group, and…” He leaned closer and dropped his voice, though no one else was in the office. “Between you and me, it’s worth it. Any extra time it might take, and even dealing with some of the egos, it’s all worth it. We really do help each other, and you’ll get to know the professors on more of a one-to-one basis. It’s good to have a professor know your name and care about what happens with your future. It’s really good.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. My eyes wandered around the room and found a picture of a stunning woman: Long, beautiful golden hair. White teeth. Perfect smile. Sparking blue eyes. She was slender with a heart-shaped face. I nodded to the photograph. “Is that Professor Gayle?”
He followed my gaze. “Yeah. That’s her.”
“Is she married?”
“No.”
His answer was quick, quick enough that it seemed Mr. Fuller had a little crush himself. Professor Gayle looked to be in her thirties, and I got the same let-down feeling that filled me whenever someone used me to get to my dad. Maybe I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but I was betting Professor Gayle wanted to date my dad, or she already was and was l
ooking out for his kid. Either way, I knew my answer.
I stood up, gathering my bag. “I can’t.”
He stood with me, looking surprised. “Are you sure?”
I nodded, going for the door. “Thanks for the invite, but I just can’t right now.”
“Oh.”
I glanced back before opening the door. He stared at the desk, his mouth turned down.
My answer had stunned him. “Thank you again,” I said.