“I JUST HEARD TWO GIRLS reprimanding their drunk friend in the bathroom because she admitted to spitting instead of swallowing,” my Little, Josh, says as he stumbles back up to the bar at Ralph’s.
“What a time to be alive.”
“I poked my head inside and tried to get her number.”
“Which one?” I ask, sliding him his beer and shot gloss to continue power hour. One shot of beer every sixty seconds, cued by the DJ changing the song playing.
“Honestly? Whichever one answered.”
I laugh, cheers-ing my shot glass full of beer toward him as the song changes before throwing it back.
It feels good to be at Ralph’s, surrounded by my brothers who are all trying their best to make our probation situation not suck. They seem to have really listened to me when I went off about keeping our letters alive. Ever since then, we’ve all been focused on doing what we can for our philanthropy, showing support at other Greek functions even if we can’t participate, and of course, partying anywhere and everywhere we’re allowed to. Ralph’s is basically the Omega Chi house now, and on power hour night, anything can happen.
Josh whistles, his eyes on someone over my shoulder. “Damn, Skyler. How are you going to show up looking that fine and not let me take you out?”
I turn, smiling at my best friend as she rolls her eyes and slides onto the barstool next to me. Her long chestnut hair is down and straight, eyes framed by dark shadow and thick mascara, and legs on full display in the tiny ripped-up jean shorts she’s wearing. She paired it with a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt cropped at her midriff, and I don’t blame Josh for wishing she’d give him a chance.
Skyler is a catch. Any man with eyes can see it. Even me, which is probably why I drunkenly made out with her on a roof in Pittsburgh a month ago before we both burst into hysterical laughter. We’re just too close to fuck, and I didn’t even know that was a thing until her. I’ve never been genuine friends with a girl, but with Skyler, it’s effortless. I love her, I care about her, and I want to be around her all the time. But for the first time, we crossed that line into something more, and we both found out quickly that it just isn’t us.
We’re best friends — just friends — and I love that about us.
I don’t have to pretend with Skyler, and she doesn’t have to pretend with me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
“You’re seventeen minutes behind,” I say, sliding a shot glass toward her and pouring a fresh beer from the pitcher. “Time to catch up.”
“Is that a challenge?”
I just raise my eyebrows in response, throwing my hands up like the decision is all hers. And of course, because she’s Skyler Fucking Thorne, she chugs the full cup before refilling it again, just in time to throw back a shot when the song changes again.
For the first time since the semester started, everything finally feels okay. Sure, it would be better if we weren’t on probation, but for what the situation is, everything is pretty great. And when Lacy walks through the door at the end of power hour, I can’t help but feel like my lucky stars are all aligned.
Josh is nearly passed out on the bar, talking to a pineapple cup that some freshman girl on her first social left behind, and Skyler is dancing with her sisters near the DJ. Lacy eyes me when she walks in, smirking in my direction, but of course she doesn’t come to me first. No, I’ll be her stop at the end of the night, which is exactly how I want it.
That is, until another girl catches my eye.
Suddenly, the room is spinning, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have left not to throw up. I wish it was the beer making my stomach turn, but it’s the pair of bright green eyes framed by dark glasses staring at me from across the bar.
Shawna’s violet hair is twisted into a messy knot on top of her head, the way she used to style it after we’d fucked for hours under the sheets. She’s dressed simple in a tight, short black dress — one that hugs her curves, highlighting the barbells of her nipple piercings through the thin fabric. My balls ache at just the slight view I have of them across the dark room, and the fact that she still has an effect on me makes my jaw clench.
With a shake of my head, I down the rest of my beer, slamming the plastic cup on the bar before making a beeline across the dance floor for Lacy. Her friend points over her shoulder at me, and she turns just in time for me to catch her mouth with mine.
She’s surprised at first, hands frozen at her side, but when I slide my tongue inside her mouth and pull her body flush against mine, she relaxes, wrapping her arms around my neck. Alcohol swims in my system, mixing with the adrenaline and anger, stirring up a dangerous concoction as Lacy bites my lower lip between her teeth.
I slide my hands down her small back, cupping her ass and pulling until she grinds against my leg. She shudders at the friction, a breathy fuck escaping her lips before I silence her again. And when I kiss down her neck, my eyes find Shawna again, satisfaction flooding through when I see she’s still watching.
She grabs her purse, saying something to the group of girls she’s with before eyeing me like a homeless puppy again. I push Lacy back, standing tall, not taking my eyes off Shawna as she pushes her way through the crowd toward the door.
Lacy watches me confused, but when her gaze follows mine, she shakes her head before facing me again. “Un-fucking-believable.”
She slaps me hard across the face, which zaps my attention back to her, but luckily Shawna is already gone and doesn’t see the aftermath. I stretch out my jaw, rubbing it with one hand, heavy eyes finding Lacy again. I wish I cared. I wish I was sorry.
“Look, I’ve been cool with our arrangement. You want to fuck at two in the morning and not have to wake up to me the next day? Fine. But that,” she says, motioning to where Shawna just disappeared out the door and back to me. “That’s not okay. You may like to fuck me like I don’t have feelings, Bear, but I’m still a goddamn human.”
She eyes me like a rodent, shaking her head before turning on her heel and stomping away, and I’m left watching the door and knowing only two things are true in this moment.
One, I am an asshole.
And two, I’m not over Shawna Ballentine. No matter how much I want to be.