Playing cards tonight. Can’t get away. Come here instead.

My stomach tightened immediately. Can’t get away, my ass.

Joel used to always want to be alone with me. He’d complain about being at the frat house so much. But lately, he didn’t seem to mind at all. He was partying harder, getting more involved in campus life, and I definitely felt our relationship fraying at the edges. Hell, we barely even made out anymore.

I looked up at the brick building. The first floor lights were off, which meant my roommate, Avery, wasn’t home. She was probably already up at her boyfriend’s place on the fifth floor. She and Bennett had gotten together in the fall and had been inseparable ever since. Which didn’t bug me—until I realized that what they had was so much deeper than what I had with Joel.

So why the hell was I hanging in there with him?

Joel was my first adult relationship. The first guy to notice me—really notice me—next to my beauty-queen friends, Avery and Rachel. I liked having a boyfriend and a steady relationship. I’d dated the same guy on and off in high school for two years. But we’d drifted apart after Christopher died. I was a wreck and he didn’t know how to handle it.

By that time Avery was always sleeping over, trying to get away from her own crazy life, and I took comfort in that. There was something to be said for loyalty.

But I was probably loyal to Joel to a fault. Plus, my parents liked him. Joel was from the next town over and his family belonged to the same church. My father coached him in community soccer.

But there was also another connection.

Joel had known Christopher. Had mentored him in soccer as a junior coach. He knew a different side to Christopher—the competitive side. How much he loved the game and the travel team. And he didn’t mind talking about him. Whenever I wanted to. Just knowing he’d been linked to Christopher in some small way brought me relief. Reminded me of happier times.

I scrolled down to Avery’s name in my phone.

Me: Hey bitch, you up on 5? Heading to Joel’s. See you in the morning.

Avery: Yep, I’m here. Heading there again, huh? You know what I’m gonna say, right? You & I are gonna have a real conversation. About what you’re doing. And what you need. Without mentioning that asshead & what he’s doing. Got it?

Here we go again. Avery was so protective of me when it came to guys. The funny thing was, she’d been one big player herself before she met Bennett. She didn’t think guys were a necessity. Unless you fell madly in love with one of them, like she did. She’d had quite the adjustment.

Me: *eye roll* Later, bitch.

I pulled away from the curb in the direction of the frat house.

I took a long pull of my beer and plopped down on my sheets. Why the hell had I called that hotline? And why the fuck had I given my real name? Sure, nobody called me by my first name anyway, but still, I could have lied. Yet there was something about hearing her say Daniel. It sounded solid falling from her lips. Like maybe she could actually help me or something.

Geez, enough already. If I’d wanted to kill myself I should’ve just driven off a goddamn bridge already. Maybe I wasn’t totally serious—maybe I was a chicken shit—but some days I sure felt like I needed to disappear. The guilt I carried was like a goddamn heavy coat—prickly hot, itchy, and smothering.

“Quinn, get your ass down here!” I heard Joel’s loud mouth through my door. If I didn’t make an appearance with my frat brothers, I’d get harassed. One time they jumped me and pulled my ass out of bed. I sat up and reached for my shoes under my bed. The sneakers I changed into after baseball practice were still caked with mud from the field, so I slipped into my blue Cons.

The boys played poker most nights and got trashed just the same. I couldn’t always bow out after an afternoon game or practice. But at least I had an excuse during baseball season not to hang out too much. We played three ball games a week, and spent a lot of time on the road. But it didn’t help that my teammate Jimmy lived at the house and upstaged me with his partying.

As I headed down the stairs I heard distinctly familiar female voices. Same girls, different night. The guys referred to them as frat brats behind their backs. They were here every weekend night and always willing to do any number of favors for the guys, especially sexual ones.

I’d made the mistake of getting it on with a frat brat once before realizing what a mistake it was to hook up with these girls—they were always in your business. But I’d been pretty hard up by that time. Normally, if I was desperate, I’d head away from the frat house and up to the local bar where the townies hung out. I always came away satiated. It helped get my head back in the game. Literally.

I was at TSU to study, play ball, and live the frat life that my best friend always wanted. Sebastian had promised his dad that he’d pledge to the same house from his alma mater. And if he couldn’t be here to do it himself—because of what I’d done—I’d honor him by doing it for him.

I was here for Sebastian, for his parents, and maybe a little for myself. As long as I kept going—living his life—the guilt was pushed to the side for awhile. Until it bubbled up and consumed me. Like it had tonight.

I nodded to the guys at the table, scraped the metal chair across the floor, and sat my ass down. “Deal me in.”

The girl sitting on Joel’s lap had also been there the previous night. His hands were hidden beneath the table doing God knows what to her. Joel’s gaze kept darting out the window, which meant his girlfriend, Ella, was on her way over.

Ella was pretty and had a smoking body, but was obviously too naïve to realize what a huge player her boyfriend was. I’d never seen Joel do more than cop a feel since he’d started hanging with Ella, but it wasn’t like I had been watching him twenty-four-seven. These frat brats kept their mouths shut, just like the baseball groupies did after ball games. I didn’t get the whole chicks-stabbing-chicks-in-the-back thing. I just knew I definitely wanted no part of it.

Hell, Sebastian had been doing the same thing to his girlfriend, Amber. But she hadn’t been all that innocent, either. Then again, I’m not one to talk. I’d been playing games, too. I just hadn’t realized it. Until it was too late.

I didn’t know Ella all that well, but lately she’d been on the quiet side. Too quiet. She used to joke around more, had one hell of a truck driver’s mouth, and could hold her own in a Call of Duty game with the guys.

Maybe her silence spoke volumes. I could feel the tension hanging in the air lately between her and Joel.

A lot of the guys accused Joel of keeping Ella around for free pussy. Joel always pretended to be into the chicks hard to get them to spread their legs. Sure, he’d kept Ella around longer than most. So maybe she was good in bed. I shook my thoughts away from Ella’s nice rack and how her dark hair might look fanned around my pillow. I didn’t need a boner tonight.

As soon as Joel spied Ella through the window, he pushed the girl off his lap and she plopped down on mine, pouty bottom lip jutted out. And there went my potential hard-on. But if she wiggled her hips a little more she’d be sure to bring it back.

She turned and whispered against my ear, “Want to head upstairs, Quinn?” I looked down at her sheer white T-shirt, her lacy bra peeking beneath, hiding her small but perky breasts.

The trouble with these frat brats was that they were always around. If you just wanted to chill with the boys, it could get awkward. And if you brought home a date, it could even get ugly. So I stayed far away. Not that I brought home any dates.

“Hey, baby.” Joel hadn’t even bothered to stand up and greet his girl when she walked through the door. I glanced at Ella. Flushed cheeks, a hint of irritation in her eyes. Maybe she was getting tired of his bullshit, too. She had on a fluffy skirt that went to her knees with a fitted blue T-shirt. Her long brown hair was draped over her shoulders. She looked like she’d just come from work, because she wasn’t in her usual attire.