The Revenge Pact (Kings of Football #1)(44)

She rolls her eyes. “You really are a true blond. Look, if you’re in charge of me, you must not drink. I love to party but also want to live. You must get me home in one piece. If you get frisky, I’ll throat-punch.”

“Oh, I’ll take good care of you,” he drawls, draping his eyes over her. “One thing: there’s a Delta who’s technically my date, but that’s only because she’s writing my paper. If she’s all over me, just let it be, baby. You’re my number one.”

She slaps him on the arm. “You’re awful. I kind of like it, frat boy.”

They continue to banter, and I tune them out and stare at my hands as my head replays the conversation with Donovan. I cringe.

“I know where your head is. You didn’t do anything wrong,” River says quietly.

“Okay, if you’ve got Ana covered, I’m going to start a beer pong contest,” Benji says to River as he takes Lila’s hand. “Come on, baby, let’s see how well you can bounce a ball in a cup.”

Lila breaks away and gives me a hug. “You sure you’re okay?”

No.

“Yeah.” I just need distance from the Kappa house.

After they leave, I glance at River. “I’m sorry this happened at your party—”

His fists clench. “No. I’m sorry he broke up with you like that.”

My eyes narrow. “He’s with her right now. They walked away in front of everyone. They probably went to his room, and—TMI—I haven’t had sex with him in weeks, so he’s probably up there getting laid—”

“Don’t. Let’s get you out of here.” He approaches, settling himself next to me. “Okay, here’s the plan…”





13





The moment she stepped in the basement and found me staring, I knew shit was going to be bad.

Her. Him.

They love each other.

And me?

This triangle (that only I’m aware of) is chewing me up and spitting me out.

Guilt hangs over me.

The secrets I keep.

She’s off limits.

Even if they did just break up.

Yeah, yeah, I know what I just heard, what everyone heard, but he’s trashed, totally blindsided by his parents; he’s going to wake up and freak out. Harper isn’t Anastasia. She’s a blank piece of paper; Anastasia is poetry on the paper.

He chose Harvard over her. A day or a week or a month from now, he’s going to open his eyes and have a breakdown, wondering what the fuck happened when he let her slip away.

The chaos started this afternoon when Donovan stormed out of his room and came into the kitchen. He’d been on the phone with his family for a couple of hours. With a grim face and bleary eyes, he grabbed the tequila and took one shot after another. He hung his head and laid out it out for me, everything his parents said.

He asked for advice…

The pledge comes back with Anastasia’s purse and my letterman jacket from my room (I wondered where that was and took a stab). He hands them to her, and she slips her arms inside and tugs it around her, her nose dipping to the collar as she inhales the smell.

My chest tightens as she turns, and I see the 3 on the back under my last name. I murmur under my breath.

She adjusts her crossbody-style purse over it. “What did you say?”

I blink. “Three. It’s the magic number.”

She gives me a half-smile. “Right.”

“Ready?”

She nods, hiding her face. “Yeah. Let’s get out of this place.”

I throw an arm around her, being casual, yet aware of the press of her against me, that sweet scent of hers that stirs the air.

I guide her out the door, my hand at the small of her back. It’s a sizzle to my skin, but I shove it down. A row of pledges are lined up (on my orders), blocking the view from the dance floor. I give them a nod as we dash for the exit to the right and step out into the cold air.

I nod my head at the parking lot to the side of the house. “My truck’s over here.”

She looks around the property, a furrow on her brow. “I’m leaving when he’s the one who should be embarrassed for being such a dick,” she mutters. “But it’s his house, and I’m embarrassed. Ugh.”

Several partiers are stand in the front yard, dancing, laughing, drinking, but no one seems to notice us.

I pop the lock on my truck, and she crawls in the passenger side. I slide in and give her a long look, then glance back to the road as I crank the vehicle.

Lost. She looks lost.

“Audrey will be disappointed when she can’t find you,” she says quietly as I drive down the street and make the turn that takes us off Greek Row.

“I haven’t been with her in months…” My words taper off. I don’t want to talk about that. Would she want to know that when I fucked, she was the one in my head? Probably not. The night she opened the door and saw me, shame washed over me, deep and thick, which was crazy because I had every right to fuck whoever I wanted. She had Donovan! But she…

Her eyes. Her face.

I can’t be with anyone like that again.

She’s gotten her phone out and gasps.

“What?”

I glance over at her, and she shows me a post on IG, a picture of Donovan and Harper on a couch in the den of the house, snuggled up. “Wow. That didn’t take long. Mellany posted it. True love always wins over skanks is the caption.” Her hands tremble. “She also posted the audio of the breakup, it seems. I can’t…”—her head shakes— “…listen to it. Not yet.”