“Trust me,” I say as we resume walking. “Taking your clothes off for strangers isn’t as easy as it might sound. If you can’t do it for your boyfriend, then you definitely aren’t ready to do it for anyone else.”

She nods thoughtfully, and I know she’s hearing me. But I also know that even if I hadn’t said anything, she would have reached the same conclusion. Annie is smart that way. If she isn’t comfortable with something, then she steers clear of it. Which is why it’s so damn hard for me to understand why she chose the boyfriend she did.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do for your project?” she asks me.

“Nope. Then again,” I say, bumping her shoulder with mine, “maybe I’ll go pose nude in your stead.”

“Maybe you should,” she says, shocking me. “You’ve got the body for it, and I know you’re not shy.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” I tease.

“No, not at all. You’re just a heck of a lot more confident than I am. You should give it some serious consideration. And you never know, maybe that mystery man of yours will get jealous of all those people seeing what belongs to him, and drag you out of there by your hair like a total caveman.”

“Oh, yes, because I’ve always wanted my very own caveman. Those bulbous foreheads and ape-ish good looks make me weak in the knees.”

We laugh, but the closer we get to the parking lot, the more I consider her suggestion. My relationship with Ransom aside, it would be an excellent opportunity, and she’s right. Thanks to stripping, I don’t have any issue with showing my body to strangers. That ship’s sailed. It could be a chance to get a good final grade with unforeseen benefits.

Tucking the article in my pocket, I promise myself I will think more about it later. “So, who’s up for drinks tonight?”

TWELVE

Music hums from the two-story colonial as Annie and I make our way up the sidewalk. People spill from the open door onto the large porch and into the front yard. After pulling a short shift after class, I’m ready to party.

Our usual fare is to meet up with friends at a bar, get shitfaced, and sing bad karaoke, but tonight is different. Brody and his Greek brothers are elevating a few lucky pledges to full members of the fraternity, and it’s a cause for celebration. So, here we are.

The moment we cross the threshold, I’m questioning the wisdom of being here. Half the student body seems to have crammed itself into what is probably a normally large space. Total chaos appears to be the theme they’ve gone with. Random panties and bras hang from lampshades and chandeliers. A girl crouches in the corner, emptying her stomach into a potted plant. There’s a guy walking around with a trash bag, his attempt to keep some kind of order feeble at best—he must be a pledge.

Someone shouts, and then everyone erupts into excited cheers. Annie and I try to make ourselves small as the crowd parts down the middle and a group of guys wearing togas race by, blasting each other with water balloons.

The place is a zoo. Annie and I share a look. “I’m going to get something to drink.”

“Jason said he was here. I’m going to go see if I can find him.”

“Okay. I have my phone on. Text me if you need me.” That’s our plan. Whenever we find ourselves in a scene like this, we keep our phones on. If one of us gets into trouble, or just needs to check in, we’re only a text or call away.

Annie’s expression is strained as she walks away. I watch her go until the crowd swallows her, and then I head for the kitchen. It’s located at the back of the house, and when I get there, I let out a low, appreciative whistle.

Someone meant business.

The kitchen is fully stocked. There’s a baby pool set up in the middle of the floor and it’s packed full of ice and a variety of bottles and cans. There’s also a keg, and beyond that, a collection of mixers.

There’s a line for the keg, and there’re too many people collecting at the counter, so I grab the first thing that touches my fingers from the pool. It’s a cheap strawberry wine cooler, but I like strawberries and as long as it contains alcohol, then it’ll do the job.

My first drink disappears fast and I collect another one before I start searching the house for Brody. I find him in the basement playing football on a large screen television with three other guys. There are girls everywhere, littering the floors and backs of the furniture. When they see me coming, a couple of them eye me with suspicion.

I recognize their type immediately. They’re like buzzards, hovering on the outskirts, hoping a few scraps will be tossed their way. When I lean over the back of the couch and wrap my arms around Brody’s neck, I catch the eye of a girl standing across the room.

She’s pretty, with blonde hair, light eyes, tall and skinny—the total opposite of me. Her glare would be piercing if I gave a damn, but I don’t. When Brody tilts his head back and realizes it’s me, his smile is so brilliant, everyone in the room vanishes.

“J, you made it!”

Jumping to his feet, he spins and grabs me around the waist. With both of his massive arms, he pulls me over the back of the couch. I scream in surprise, gripping his shoulders for dear life, but then he’s crushing me against his muscled chest, and I have to concentrate all my energy on breathing.

“Did you get anything to drink?” he asks, pointing to a table littered with unopened beers. Apparently, the floor is where the empties go.

“Dude, you just got sacked!”

“You’re supposed to pause it, numbnuts!”

I shake my head as Brody pulls me down onto his knee and grabs his controller. I can feel eyes on me, and I know it’s from the other girls. I focus on the television, laughing to myself. If any of them knew how unromantic my relationship is with Brody, they wouldn’t need to feel threatened. After I leave here tonight, there is no doubt in my mind that one of them will be occupying his bed.

I zone out as I watch the guys play. Brody wins every round, which he thanks me for with a kiss on the cheek every time. Apparently, I’m his good luck charm.

“I call foul,” one of the guys that I recognize from a couple classes complains. He drops his controller on the floor and slumps into the chair, a lock of brown hair falling over his forehead. Immediately, his lap is filled by a pretty brunette flashing way too much cleavage.

“For what?” Brody chuckles as he settles back against the cushions, taking me with him.

“You had Lady Luck on your side; ergo, it wasn’t a fair match.”

“He’s right. I call for a rematch!”

“You can’t call for a rematch, Trent,” Brody says, his chest rumbling with laughter. “Should have come prepared.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a friendly game,” Trent says. “Had I known how cutthroat you are, I would have brought along my own golden snatch.”

Brody’s fist flies so fast and hard into Trent’s shoulder that I nearly topple off his lap. He catches me at the last possible second, and I glimpse the apology that flickers in his eyes before he’s focused on the guy behind me. “Watch your mouth.”

“You’d better listen to the man,” football guy says with a cocky smirk. “Brody’ll rip your limbs off and beat you with them if you talk bad about his lady.”

“Dude, I wasn’t,” Trent says, his eyes growing wide. Rubbing his arm, he sends Brody a pleading look. “I didn’t mean anything by it, man.”

“Whatever. Just watch your mouth,” he growls. Tapping my thigh, I take his cue and stand. Brody’s right there beside me, his arm winding around my shoulders as he leads me back up the stairs. “I’ll catch up with you scumbags later.”

Brody takes me on a loop through the first floor. After getting a fresh pair of drinks, I figure he’s going to take me outside for some air, but I find myself climbing the stairs instead.