“Like what?”

“That.” Her cheeks were stained pink. “I don’t hook up with guys.”

“Oh, that.” I grinned at her embarrassment. “I don’t either.”

“Huh?”

“Hook up with guys. I’m not like that. So now that we’ve had that particular conversation, we can be friends.” I reached for her hand again.

“I, uh—” She wasn’t able to finish her sentence, because one of my teammates had the worst timing in the universe and just happened to drive by.

“Michels!” he shouted out his window. “Party at Kappa tonight!” He honked his horn and peeled out.

“Friends?” she asked.

“Worse.” I chuckled. “Teammates.” I stopped walking and touched her arm lightly. “You want to go to a different party?”

“I should probably get back—”

“Come.” I pulled her closer to me. “Just for a few minutes. I’ll introduce you to some upperclassmen, get you some milk, and have you tucked into your bed safely by midnight.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Fine, I’ll have you tucked in alone. As in, without me.”

Kiersten looked down the street. “Fine. Thirty minutes and don’t think I won’t use the rape whistle!”

“Please,” I whispered. “Then when you return it I’ll know exactly what it feels to have your lips blowing across mine.”

She flinched. “You can’t say things like that to me.”

“Why?” I tilted her chin toward my face. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Fine.” I sighed.“I’ll just think them and look longingly in your direction every few minutes, sound good?”

She laughed. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“Whistles.” I nodded. “And redheads.” I reached for her hand again. “Virgins.” Interesting, her blush deepened as her hand clenched mine tighter. I was good at reading people and I’d bet my entire fortune she’d never even been kissed. It was why it made her uncomfortable. “Virgin lamb…” I sighed. “I may just sacrifice you on the altar.”

“I’d rather not be sacrificed.”

“You never know.” I gave her a cocky grin, “You may like it.”

“You never know.” She sighed dreamily. “I may stab you.”

“Fair.” I chuckled. “Now, let’s go. People to see, milk to drink, freshmen to corrupt.”

Chapter Eight

Things are never as they seem — ever.

Kiersten

I’d never been to a frat house. My only experience in even knowing what they looked like could be traced to the movies. You know, guys partying, people drinking, cups littering the lawn.

What I didn’t expect was actual order.

The music was loud, but the spread was insane.

Alcohol was everywhere, food was everywhere, people were dressed like movie stars, and every single guy looked like he’d just stepped from a magazine.

“Guys,” Weston put his hands on my shoulders and urged me forward, “This is Kiersten.”

“Hey,” a few of them mumbled in greeting and smiled. They didn’t look like your typical jocks. In fact, most of them were sipping their drinks and discussing football, while the girls around them were happily chatting about classes.

“Oh…” Weston tugged my hand. “And those guys over there who just walked in…” He pointed in the direction of two pretty big guys. One had black-rimmed glasses and a goatee, the other was at least six-foot-seven and lanky. Both appeared to be in their mid-thirties. “They work for me. Or my dad. However you look at it. You have any issues? Anyone bothers you here? You run towards them with the whistle, got it?”

“Uh, sure, but why would anyone bother me?”

Someone chuckled behind me. “Fresh meat.”

“Need I say more?” Weston groaned. “Meet Drake.”

“Hi, Drake.” I swallowed, trying really hard to not meet his predatory gaze. He had dark brown eyes and sandy blond hair.

He nodded. “‘Sup.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

Weston introduced me to tons of people, none of whom really cared who or what I was. Mainly they were polite, but that was it. After a few more introductions, he took me into the kitchen. “Lets’ get you a drink.”

“Oh, I’ve never drank before.” I held up my hands.

“I know.” Weston chuckled. “Which is why you and I are on a mission of sorts. First frat party, first drink, first time with a senior—”

“I’m good.” I shook my head at the cup he held out to me.

“Not yet you’re not. One sip, and then I can die happy.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, as he held out the cup and waited.

“Ugh, peer pressure. You know, you’re the worst RA I’ve ever met, right?”

He shrugged.

The liquid sloshed in the cup. It was dark and smelled like rotten bananas. “What is this?”

“Beer. One sip. Go.”

I plugged my nose. He laughed, but I didn’t care. It tasted like bitter bananas and mold, and after one sip, I was done. I coughed and gave him back the cup.

“See?” His smile was contagious. “Was that so hard?”

“It was awful!” I smacked him on the arm.

“What did I tell you? No whistle! See, I’m safe, promise.” He laughed and then stumbled a bit on his feet. With a curse he grabbed the counter.

“Are you okay?” I rushed to Weston’s side.

He jerked away from me and blinked a few times. “Yeah, fine. I just… I need to go grab something from James. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t follow anyone upstairs and no drinking anything, not even water.”

“Yes sir.” I saluted, trying to make him laugh. Instead, he looked like he was going to puke as he walked slowly out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

“Interesting,” a female voice said a few minutes later. “You his new project?”

I turned around. “Project?”

The girl was gorgeous. Her legs went on forever, she had a tight white dress on, and her black hair hung in loose curls around her chest. “Yup, project.” She grabbed a cup of beer and drank. “He picks a freshman every year.”

“He does?” Dread filled my stomach.

“What can I say? He gets bored easy. Believe me, by Christmas he’ll have forgotten your name and moved on to the next girl. Let me guess, small town? Innocent? Everything a powerful guy like Wes is attracted to, but nothing he would actually go home to if you get my meaning. He saves as many as he can, and then parties with the ones who actually give a shit about him and his life. So enjoy it while you can. I know I did.” She took another long sip and laughed just as Weston walked back into the room.

The minute his eyes fell on the girl I could have sworn he snarled. “What. The. Hell. What are you doing here, Lorelei?”

“I was invited,” she purred. “You should be happy to see me. It’s good press. You and I talking like nothing happened.”

His hands clenched at his sides. “But it did.”

“Says who?” She threw her head back and laughed. “I was just getting to know your new little friend here.”

“And we were just leaving.” Weston grabbed my arm and pulled me closer to him.

“Remember what I said, freshman.” Lorelei eyed me one last time and waltzed out of the room. I exhaled and followed Weston as he steered me out of the house. The two guys he’d pointed out earlier trailed us a few hundred feet behind as we walked down the same street we’d just come up.

“I know you don’t know me.” Weston’s words were clipped as if all his joy had just been sucked out of him. “But you can’t trust anything that girl says. She’s trouble. Let’s just put it that way. She’s not even supposed to be within ten miles of me, let alone ten feet.”

“Is she a student here?”

“Nah.” He laughed without humor. “Graduated a year ago. Our parents were close.”

“Were?”

“Yeah.” His head jerked down as he cursed and bit down on his lip. “Until everything went down last year. They still think I did it. Doesn’t help that Laurali’s a struggling actress. The one and only time I ever saw her succeed in selling a part was when she was trying to put me in jail for something I didn’t even do.”