Trent
I was on my way out.
They liked to remind me of that almost daily. As if I needed a reminder. The constant ticking of the clock in the back of my head was all the reminder I needed.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
I was drunk.
I needed something to dull the sound of my life passing me by.
I needed something to shut up the whispering voice in the back of my head.
Problem was beer wasn’t working. Not tonight.
So I kept drinking. I switched the beer out for vodka. Vodka was a little more skilled in shutting up the deepest of my thoughts.
At least I fooled myself into thinking it was.
“Omega rules!” I yelled, and everyone within earshot followed suit. I was the president after all. When I did something, they did it, too.
I slammed the empty shot glass on the nearby table and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. The room spun a little, and I blinked it back into focus.
“You know whatcha need?” Jack slurred, slinging his arm around my neck and trying to pull me down so he could yell in my ear.
I laughed and leaned down, making it easier for him. He was two years younger than me, green as a new dollar bill, and far less jaded than I would ever be again.
He was also like half my size, so if I didn’t bend down, he wouldn’t be able to holler in my ear like he clearly planned to do.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A piece of grade-A ass,” he announced.
I threw back my head and laughed. The action made his arm fall free of my neck. “What makes you say that?”
Jack chugged some beer out of a dark-colored longneck and made a scoffing sound. “Because, brother,” he drawled good-naturedly.
It made my back teeth grind together because I hated when he called me brother.
I had a family, and it wasn’t him. I glanced around the packed frat house. My house.
None of these people were my family.
My house was full of people I didn’t know.
Shouldn’t a man’s house be full of his family?
“The way you’re pounding down the drinks tells me it ain’t alcohol you need. It’s ass.” Jack finished.
I grunted. He was right about the alcohol. Clearly, it wasn’t what I needed. It wasn’t doing shit for me.
“Way I see it,” Jack said, shifting his body around so we were standing side by side and staring out over the crowd. “As frat president, you have the pick of the litter.”
He spread his arm out and gestured toward everyone as if the world were my oyster.
“Pick a pair of thighs to get between,” he invited.
Yeah. Yeah, maybe a quick, no-strings-attached fuck was exactly what I needed tonight. Maybe it would chase away whatever the hell was wrong with me.
Or maybe it would make it worse.
I didn’t like that thought, so I ignored it.
I perused the women like I did AutoZone for car parts. Not every single model and style was for me. I was particular.
Wonder why…
I shook off the thought and slapped Jack on the back. “I like the way you think.”
“Just doing what I can for our superior,” he replied.
I grunted and stepped away from him. He was just kissing my ass because he had his eye on presidency and wanted me to give him the nod.
The entire frat had been after me for weeks to throw my support behind someone new for Omega prez. My time was just about up. The sooner we got a replacement, the better.
You’d think I’d be eager to toss out a name. I was eager enough to close the door to this frat.
But something held me back.
I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something.
A group of girls across the room looked pretty promising. There was one dressed in a pair of distressed, tight jeans. They looked like a second skin and they molded to her fine, round ass with perfection.
She had enough to fill my hands.
Despite the cold temps outside, she was wearing a tank top. It was simple, black, and left little to the imagination.
There was a red SOLO cup in her hand, and her dark hair was piled on top of her head.
I usually went for blondes.
I didn’t want what I usually went for tonight.
She saw me looking and gave me the go ahead. You know that sort of half smile, sidelong stare that locked on a guy just long enough to say, I’m interested.
I started through the crowd of people dancing and stepped around the group playing some loud drinking game. She glanced back at me once as I advanced, saw I was coming, and shifted so her body was open to mine.
I moved forward like a predator, a lion tracking prey.
And then someone familiar appeared beside her.
The hunting instinct was shoved aside for instant recognition.
A dark-blond head bent low, and a lithe, graceful form slid between my target and her friend. I couldn’t see his face, just the top of his head as he bent in and spoke to the women he so casually wrapped his arms around.