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“I don’t believe you, but I’ll take the hint. Door’s always open, though, if you want to chat, kid.”
When he leaves, I blow out a slow breath. I may like the dude but talking to him about how the only thing I can think about is sliding between his baby cousin’s creamy thighs and making her see stars with my dick isn’t exactly my idea of a party.
The only thing I’d leave his office with is a black eye.
No thanks.
I grab my bag, pull my phone out, and scroll through my contacts until I see the one name I need. I type out a quick text, smirking when I see the read sign a moment later.
A bubble pops up on the screen, indicative of typing, but disappears a moment later. I chuckle lightly, shoving the phone in the pocket of my black sweatpants and heading out of the gym.
While I’d be interested in her response, I don’t need one to know she’s running through a million ways to murder me because of my rules.
Bring it, baby.
SEVEN
Theodore: Rule number two – no fighting
Thetextcomesthroughwhen I step out of my business law class. Betty has rushed off to the library, wanting to get ahead of the reading for the week, so I’m left alone staring at my phone screen. I’ve no idea what game Theodore thinks he’s playing with these fucking rules of his, but I’m not interested.
He can play by himself, for all I care.
The only thing he’s achieved by sending that one is to show me I was right in my assumptions that the spiteful little brunette’s problem with me is related to him, and it only makes me angrier. Day one and he’s already making me public enemy number one in these halls.
He can get fucked.
The campus is busy as I make my way back to the dorm, and it’s safe to say most people heard about that little encounter we had in the hallway this morning, if the looks on their faces as I pass by are anything to go by. Some are amused, though, most gape at me in shock. Clearly not used to seeing someone going against the norm.
The dorm is empty when I enter, so I drop my bag on the kitchen counter and flick the kettle on before pulling a mug out of the cupboard and making a cup of tea. When the warm liquid hits the back of my throat, I let out a happy sigh and pull my phone out.
The text still stares at me from the screen, but I close the app and load up Instagram instead. Mindlessly scrolling, I pause when I come across a photo on Gage’s feed. It’s a group photo uploaded this morning. The caption is kings of campus, and the three heirs stand tall in the centre.
Gage and Kyle flanking the sides, while Theodore leans against his black Camaro, arms crossed over his chest without a care in the world. My fingers itch to zoom in, to trace the lines of his face, but it’s the girl standing in front of him that catches my eye.
It’s the same one from the hallway this morning, the one who called me a whore.
Clicking on the tagged people, I follow the link to her page.
Her feed is full of pink, frilly things, but every now and then, there’s a shot of her with the guys that causes an ache to form in my chest.
I’d like to say it’s not jealousy, but I’d be lying.
Whoever she is, it’s clear that she’s close with the three of them. Once upon a time, I assumed that position would be held by me. It made sense. As the four heirs, we were raised together. There wasn’t a weekend that went by that our dad’s didn’t get together, hosting barbecues in the summer, or games nights in the winter.
When Theodore pushed me out, Gage and Kyle being loyal to their “brother,” did the same. For some reason, I don’t feel the same anger towards them as I do him. While I don’t like how easy it was for them to leave me behind, I was never as close with them as I was with him.
He was everything.
Stupid little me genuinely thought I’d marry him one day and we’d live happily ever after together. What a barrel of fucking laughs that turned out to be.
I close Instagram, placing my phone face down, and take my tea to the couch. I flick through the channels before settling on watching a rerun ofFriends. A little while later, the front door flings open and Noah walks through covered in dirt.
“Good practice?”
He drops down into the seat beside me, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “Sure was. Coach had me playing as a striker today, so I got to run around the field and exert some energy for once, instead of standing around in the goal.”
Nodding, I smile at him. I don’t know the first thing about football, besides the fact that a bunch of sweaty men run around a field kicking a ball, but from what I can gather, Noah is pretty good at it, so I let him tell me all about it anyway.
