Boyfriend Material (Hawthorne University, #2)(21)

He pauses, then gives me a wry smile. “He’s rushing Kappa tonight.”

A long exhale comes from me. “Dammit. We need to drink just for that. He’s not going to be the same anymore.”

“I wish there was another frat on campus with some power, but there isn’t. They’re the best.”

“At being motherfuckers,” I add.

“And parties.”

Right. I get in my truck and we head to the Tipsy Moose, an off-campus bar we frequent. Rustic with a wood-beamed ceiling, it’s lowkey with pool tables, dart boards, and booths.

We’re walking up the sidewalk to the entrance when I catch sight of something farther down the alley.

A sign in pink neon. Platinum Nights.

I was there, once, the night I turned twenty-one, and as a result of those twenty-one shots, I can’t remember a thing except some big-chested, older woman pressing her boobs in my face. Other than that, it’s not my scene.

“Hey,” I say, backing up. “What if we go someplace different?” I point to the sign.

Reece raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Change of pace.”

He cocks his head at me. “Any reason you want to go there? Julia? That video of you chasing down that thief was crazy. Anything going on between you two?”

“Nah.”

But part of me wants to see her.

To talk to her.

As a friend. Of course.

He smirks. “Whatever makes you happy, yeah? You wanna feed some dollar bills to a girl’s thong, I’m here. I’ve got cash. Let’s do this.”

It’s hazy in the club as a cloud of fake smoke wafts around us. The air feels thick and sticky, bristling with anticipation and lust. The room is dark except for a few dim lamps and the colorful flashes of neon lights behind the long bar.

On the stage, a woman gyrates to “Runnin’ with the Devil” by Van Halen. Her shoulders and stomach glisten with sweat. She’s a brunette, curvy, and older than Julia. She’s wearing glittery red pasties on her nipples and a black thong. Devil horns are on her head and she carries a sizeable pitchfork. The crowd of men cheer as she whips her hair around and shakes her hips. They tuck bills under her thong when she gets close.

I scan the room—mostly college boys. A few businessmen.

One of the college guys puts his knee on the stage as if to reach the girl to hand her money, and a bouncer appears out of nowhere and yanks him back to his seat. His companions laugh and slap him on the back, then hand him a beer.

Reece lets out a low whistle. “Damn. This place is on fire. Maybe we should have our hockey parties here.”

“Hmm.”

Reece heads to the bar to grab us some beers while I find a seat. I grab a booth near the right of the raised stage and look for Julia. It’s possible she isn’t working tonight.

I find her on a small stage to the left, sliding around a pole.

How the fuck did I miss that?

She’s wearing a white lace bodysuit that barely covers her tits. Fluttery wings move behind her as she dances. My lips twitch when I see the halo tiara. An angel.

She undulates her body and struts out to the edge of the stage. Her hair cascades down her back, and she flicks it over her shoulder and smiles into the crowd. Her lips purse as she blows a kiss. She eases off the straps of her bodysuit in teasing little gestures, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat as my cock thickens.

She’s flawless. Her skin perfect.

She unsnaps the bodysuit and whisks it off and twirls it in the air. Gold pasties are on her tits. She bends over seductively and shows us her ass in her bikini briefs. I groan. Shit. I didn’t come here for this. No way.

She shimmies to a guy who tucks a twenty under the waistband of her briefs.

I grit my teeth.

This was the wide-eyed girl from high school.

And now . . .

This wasn’t her plan. No way. She couldn’t wait to get to college.

Am I somehow responsible for this?

Did I hurt her that bad?

No, she’s too strong for that. Too fierce.

There’s a wolf underneath the lamb she appears to be.

Yeah.

The only person I ruined was my brother.

I don’t know where the thought comes from. I thought I’d stuffed them so far down they’d never come up, but they do.

Anguish ripples over me like a tsunami.

I squeeze my eyes closed to shut it out, but it rises higher and higher.

Kurt was the real deal.

Valedictorian, Kappa, athletic.

His hair was blond, his eyes blue, like my mother’s.

At fifteen, I didn’t know the demons that haunted him. No, the whole truth would come out after his death. The night he was killed, he was home for Christmas and wanted to make a stop before we went to the movies. We drove to a small dingy trailer on the outskirts of town and I sat in the car while he went inside. Sure, I noticed he seemed different. Moodier. Thinner.

After half an hour passed, I got worried we’d miss the movie, so I got out of the car and walked in the house without knocking.

Shadowy images flash in my mind.

My perfect brother sitting on a couch as he shot up heroin. A wiry guy yanking out a gun and pointing it at me. The bang that made my ears ring. Kurt on the floor with blood blooming on his chest. He’d jumped in front of me and taken the bullet.