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“Where is she?” I peek around the room in search of Jordan’s short bob. She’s the only girl in our house who doesn’t have long hair.

Jemma points through the throng of girls. “She’s over there with Abby.”

Abby Gale, our president, is always somewhere near Jordan. I was hoping one day I would have a shot at either of their roles within the sorority but haven’t been able to secure enough votes to knock either of them out of the running.

“You should get ready,” Jemma says. “We’re on any minute.”

“Right.”

Staring in the mirror, I suck in a deep breath, trying to push down the anxiety bubbling up inside my chest. I have to act normal. None of my sorority sisters can know about Killian stealing my car. There has to be a reason why he wanted it, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it on my own.

The bass thumps through the club, and even in the dressing room, the music vibrates beneath my four-inch heels. Girls are gathered in front of a long row of vanities, forced to share with each other. On nights like these when the entire Greek community is required to come together, the claws come out. Two girls are already fighting over a curling iron.

I can hear Jemma talking to Jordan and Abby behind me, and I mentally prepare myself for the tongue-lashing I’m about to receive for being late.

“Jade…” Abby says from behind me. “You’re finally here. So glad you could grace us with your presence. Where have you been?”

Avoiding her gaze, I continue fixing my hair in the mirror. “I got stuck in traffic.”

The Uber driver whipped through the city without any issues, but she doesn’t need to know that. I have to own my lie.

“We thought you were bailing on us.” She huffs. “Hurry up. You don’t have much time.”

A minute later, we’re ushered into the main room of the club where girls are dancing inside cages suspended from the vaulted ceiling. To win the contest, we have to dance on top of a long mahogany bar at the center of the room. Everyone can see us as we step onto the stools and climb onto the bar.

I slide my hand down the metal pole that’s bolted into the bar in front of me, reaching up to the ceiling. The announcer says a few words, and then the DJ’s beat fills the club causing the room to come alive. The people below us are dancing and drinking, grinding on each other as we work the poles. Abby and Jordan created our choreographed routine. It’s the same ass-shaking bullshit they force us to do every time.

As I sway my hips from side to side, I follow the lead of my sisters. We have to win. Abby will never let us live this night down if we don’t come in first place.

The song is almost over, and we’re so close to the finish line, when a girl in our group trips and falls forward tumbling into the arms of a tall, dark-haired guy in the crowd. I recognize him. It’s Preston Parker, the captain of the ice hockey team.

But I don’t recognize the girl who fell. She’s not in Kappa Delta. Why was she even on the stage with us? Either way, this girl just cost us the prize.

I glance down the bar at Abby, who has an angry scowl plastered on her face. She orders the rest of us to finish the song pretending as if the girl didn’t just ruin our shot. So, we do as she says, even though we know it’s over. There’s no way we can win now.

Once the song ends, another group of girls exit the dressing room ready to take our places. We’re expected to hop down from the bar, thrown into the mass of people who are now reaching for us. Strange fingers slide down my arms, and I cringe from the feeling of their skin against mine.

I eventually hit a wall, my hands landing on a man’s chiseled chest, rock hard from his bulging muscles. Staring up at him, my mouth opens in shock. It’s Killian Kade. His expression mirrors mine once he realizes we know each other.

“You owe me a car,” I growl over the loud music.

He smirks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Irritated, I let out a puff of air. “Don’t bullshit me. I saw you behind the wheel of my car. You’re lucky, I didn’t call the police.”

He looks confused. “You didn’t?”

I shake my head. “No, because I’d rather punish you myself.”

I’m greeted with another sexy smirk. “Oh, yeah? What kind of punishment did you have in mind?”

“Not like that, you idiot.”

Maybe like that.

He clutches my hands which are still on his chest and drags me closer to him, bending down until his lips are almost touching mine. I can’t move or think with Killian this close to me. His dark hair falls in front of his green eyes that look like emeralds when the overhead light hits them just right. I’m paralyzed by his good looks, my mind wandering to places it shouldn’t right now.

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