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“I don’t give a shit about what rock you crawled out from under. I’m interested in her, and you two seem close, but I guess it wasn’t that close.”
“Lay off, Hudson,” says Jaxon, “Maybe he doesn’t want to kiss and tell. Not like you.”
“Ha. I’d shout her name if she’d wrap those juicy lips around me.”
Asher’s hands are shaking. “You’re an asshole because you’re full of shit. Charlotte has class, and well, you lack it.”
“Ha. You are the epitome of good taste,” I reply, laughing, “I can tell by the way you hold your dick when you piss. If I wanted her, I could take her.”
He shakes his head. “We have a history, but you won’t get any farther than me. So don’t even bother trying.”
The weighty tension in the room is tangible, and I sit up on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to say something stupid. Wanting him to do something stupid.
“I want to do more than try,” I tell him. “You think you could stop it?”
“Only because I’d be there first.”
Jaxon shakes his head and looks away. “You two are so wrong. This conversation shouldn’t be happening.”
I ignore Jaxon and take this argument to where it will lead. “A friendly wager—who will get her first?”
“And what’s the prize?” asks Asher.
I laugh at his density. “Charlotte Howland is the prize.”
“Hey, you didn’t ask me,” says Jaxon, holding out his arms in a questioning gesture. “Maybe I want a prize too.”
The smirk slips off my face. Asher and Charlotte always fight, even when they’re ignoring each other. Asher would have to do backflips to convince her to touch him, but Jaxon? He doesn’t have lousy baggage blocking his path.
Jaxon bursts out laughing. “Enjoy yourselves. I don’t need to chase after one when I can have them all.”
Asher grimaces. “You sound like a man-slut. Invest in condoms, Hudson.”
I have to laugh, and Asher joins in. “Well, we agree on that,” I tell him. “Jaxon is bowing out not because of integrity but because he’s overwhelmed with pussy.”
Jaxon shrugs. “I have a lot of women to please. I don’t have time for just one.”
Chapter 14
Charlotte
I open my door, and someone has slipped an invite under it for another frat party at Alpha. I pick the green sheet of paper off the floor, ball it up, and toss it into the trash. For a solid minute, I stare at my hand, the one Hudson held against his thigh, and there’s no way I’m going to another frat party again.
Lying on my bed, I start my assignments but spend most of the time thinking about Hudson and all the bullshit he said. But he did get one thing right. Asher and I are lying about our pasts. But there’s no way Asher would ever tell Hudson the truth, and I have to hold onto that. I can’t crack and start confessing when Hudson presses me again.
For a second, I thought Asher had told him about my channel. But Asher wasn’t the one who found it in the first place or broadcast it to the Monarchs. In fact, he never told anyone, not even Astrid.
Class isn’t until later, so I turn off the light and put in my earbuds, but something makes noise outside the door. And then it happens again. I pull a bud out and listen to raised voices in the hallway. I get up carefully, creep to the closed door, and place my ear against it.
A man shouts, “You are a fucking worthless ingrate!” And then he shouts, “Don’t tell me to lower my voice!”
The shouting doesn’t stop as the man tells someone he raised their deadbeat ass and fed them. And the least they can do is let him crash. Holy shit, is that a student shouting?
Slowly, I open my door a crack. The hall is deathly quiet—no ambient noise, no soft music playing, or low chatter. But people are in their rooms eavesdropping. Everyone is silently listening to someone else’s meltdown.
“Boy, you think you’re something,” the man continues to shout. “I scraped shit worth more than you off my tires this morning!”
I inch the door open just enough to see into the hallway. An older man in a leather jacket covered in patches stands in front of Asher. The man is overweight with grizzled gray hair and a long beard. He’s rough and worn with age. I’m guessing the man looks older than he actually is.
