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“Don’t let him fool you, Billy-boy. He won’t bring anyone because he can’t get a date.”
Everyone turned toward the voice. In the middle of the doorway, Harper McLain smirked, flanked by his stooges, Greg and Darren.
“Fuck off, Harper.” Jack was in no mood for him. Smug, arrogant, and a self-professed ladies’ man. He’d also cheated on Jack’s best friend, Brittany, when the two had been dating last year.
He hated Jack for telling Brittany the truth.
“Think I’ll stay right here.”
“If you just came to fuck with me, don’t.”
“Admit it, Murphy. It’s not that you don’t want to bring a date, you can’t get one. When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “I think it was the around the time you showed you were a lying sack of shit.”
Harper’s eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his face twitched before he drew a deep breath. “You know, I hear there are old queens out there who’ll date any twenty-year-old no matter how ugly.”
“Really?” He tried to act surprised, but this was how he and Harper interacted after Brittany found out the truth. “Guess you’d know.”
Harper balled up his fists. Jack knew Harper wouldn’t start anything. One swing and Jack would pummel him and claim self-defense. He might be a snake, but Harper wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite. He unclenched his fingers and seemed strangely calm. “How about you prove it?”
Something prowled in Harper’s gaze, cold and calculating. Jack wouldn’t let a shiver roll down his spine. He laughed. “Prove what? That you like to fuck creepy old men?” He screwed up his face like he smelled something rancid. Holding up his hands, he leaned back. “No thanks, that’d mean I have to watch.”
Darren snickered, drawing a glare from Harper. “No, asswipe.” Harper sneered at Jack. “Prove you can get a date.”
“I’ve had dates, Harper. There’s nothing to prove.”
“Not since Kieran broke up with you. Think anyone on campus would go out with you after that?”
Jack stared daggers at his ex-friend. His ex, Kieran, had told people that Jack was messed up and needy. That his panic attacks were that of a petulant child who needed to get over himself. After that slander, Jack vowed not to date on campus again.
“Why would I want to date anyone from campus if they’re going to end up being like you and Kieran? Even if I did, do you blame me for not wanting to bring them here?”
“Not like you got anyone else to bring a date home to.”
It came like a blow to the heart, wringing him with hurt and anger. He sprang off the bed, picturing that smug face as a punching bag.
Marcus lurched forward before Jack reached Harper and bear-hugged him. “Low blow, fucktard.”
Curling his fists, Jack spat over Marcus’s shoulder. “I could find a date that would make any girl you find wish she was me.”
“Great, I accept.” Harper’s expression changed. Gone was the pissed off, angry face, replaced by a smile of victory. “What are we betting?”
“Your fucking head down a toilet,” Jack said.
Harper laughed. “Your head in the toilet. I like it but it’s a bit… fleeting. How about you give up your room. No, better: leave the fraternity house entirely.”
“Fuck you. I’m not leaving.” Jack’s and Marcus’s dads had been in this frat. They’d dormed in this very room. Their initials were on the wall behind his bed. They’d become best friends here.
“Think you’re going to lose?”
“To a cheating bully like you? Never.”
“Then it’s a bet.”
Jack looked at Marcus and found only support there. His brother had his back. Believed in him.
“Someone needs to teach him a lesson,” Billy said.
Harper had become the frat fuckface. His parents were the biggest house supporters, and Harper used it as license to own everyone. He could be decent when he wanted. If you were on his side.
Jack had seen the decency, the generosity. Until he’d chosen Brittany. Now Jack and his friends suffered for it.
Not for much longer.
Jack looked him square in the eye. “It’s a bet.”
Chapter Four
By parking at the far end of the lot, Jack figured it would be easier for Ed to spot him. Dark blue Jeep Wranglers might be hard to miss during the day, but at night they were almost invisible.
He rubbed his hands against the cold—and the nerves. It didn’t help that his stomach was already knotted from his moment with Harper, his hurtful words and that bet. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. He’d win all right.
He had to.
He shoved his frustration with Harper to the back of his mind and took Ed’s phone out of his pocket.
A set of headlights moved toward him. His heart raced when the red pickup pulled into the spot to the right of him. His breath caught on fluttery nerves. Dressed the same as when they met earlier, Ed hopped out of his car.
