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Chapter 1
Atlas
Frat parties are usually the best places to scope out girls, but they’re also the best places to pretend to scope out girls while my best friend gets too hammered to question the status of my virginity.
Which he doesn’t know is still fully intact but thinks my latest dry spell is hilarious and in need of remedy.
Should I feel bad for getting him drunk so I don’t have to agonize over the guilt of lying to his face? Probably.
Shiloh and I share everything. We’ve been inseparable since he crashed into the trailer park I called home sixteen years ago.
And by crash I mean little five year old Shiloh came tumbling into the muddy yard around our trailer, covered in snot and tears and attacking anything and everything in his way.
Which included me.
He still pummels me, only more with words than fists. Though, he isn’t opposed to throwing hands when he needs to. It’s all done out of love, though. Shiloh wouldn’t know what to do with himself without me around.
It’s packed as shit in here, and I don’t even know which frat house we ended up at, but Shiloh is sitting spread across the middle of the couch, one arm thrown around my shoulder and the other around a pretty girl. He’s whispering in her ear, and she’s laughing, but even I can tell that his words are slurred beyond comprehension.
He’s one hell of a lightweight, and getting him back to our dorm is going to be a bitch, but it saved me from sober Shiloh pushing me into bed with the first woman he could lock me in a room with.
While he’s busy thinking there’s any chance in hell I’m letting him get laid when he’s this wasted, I’ve been nursing the same cup of beer for the last two hours trying to see what everyone else does when they come to these parties.
Girls and guys are rubbing up on each other all over the room, some dancing, some not even pretending to be subtle. There’s chicks with their tits hanging out, booty shorts riding up so high there’s no room for imagination, but just like every other time I’ve tried, I feel absolutely nothing.
Not even a fucking twitch in my pants.
It’s not like I can’t get hard; I pop random boners all the time and have no problem tugging one out, but naked women just don’t do it for me.
Sometimes I peek at guys in changing rooms at the gym, but it’s the same: nice to look at but doesn’t turn me on.
One of these days I’m going to take up someone’s proposition to find a dark corner and just get it over with. Knowing my luck, I wouldn’t be able to get it up, and I’d end up embarrassing myself.
I’ll stay a virgin if it means there’s no reason for anyone to look at me twice.
I had all the attention I could handle in high school as Mountain Valley High’s tight end. If I never see another football again, it’ll be too soon.
“C’mon.” Shiloh suddenly hops up from the couch, struggling to keep his feet under him. “Woah.” He grins at me when I reach out and anchor my hands on his waist to steady him.
“Maybe we should—”
Shiloh whips his head back and forth and tugs me from my seat, stumbling towards the stairs.
“Caroline says they’ve got a game of Drink or Dare going on.”
The girl from before stands and giggles but she doesn’t make a move to follow us.
“The last thing you need is more alcohol,” I mumble, and Shiloh steps on my foot absolutely on purpose even if he gives me fake apologetic eyes.
“Can’t turn down some good dares, Atty.”
Dares aren’t just a fun pastime for Shiloh; they’re like a whole personality trait. He’s known for coming up with some of the wildest dares on campus, and he’s never turned one down either.
Not unless they were downright vile or transphobic. Those usually ended with someone getting a black eye—and it isn’t usually Shiloh.
Maybe it’ll be a good chance to sober him up just a bit before I have to carry his ass home.
I make a pit stop in the kitchen to steal a bottle of water from the counter amongst all the half-empty plastic cups, then let Shiloh drag me up to whichever party boy’s room is having all the fun.
