Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
My curiosity got the best of me. “Who’s your dad?”
“No on—”
The frat bro cut Ryan off, beer sloshing out of his overflowing red Solo cup. “The owner of one of the most successful fucking companies on this planet.”
…
…
So Ryan was hot, funny, a gamer, good at sports (the kind involving alcohol at least), gay, and came from a rich family.
Definitely a serial killer.
“Maybe I should stay,” he said to me. His tone sounded more fit for a funeral, not a keg-fueled rage. “It was great meeting you, Jay. Want to trade numbers? Maybe we can link up later.”
I shrugged and took out my phone. What would it hurt? I was in a brand-new school, starting off during the beginning of the spring semester. Friend groups were already established, and new kids weren’t always welcome, so the more, the merrier. Especially since I wanted to continue with my activist work here. There was power in numbers.
Plus, the guy was hot.
We swapped information, and I left with another goodbye, trying hard not to be hypnotized by Ryan’s bright smile. I headed toward the huge two-story stucco house, a gentle breeze rustling the thick palm tree leaves. It smelled like salt, like the ocean.
God, I fucking hated that smell.
A group of brothers chatted near the exit. I decided to play the role of a detective. I smiled and caught one of the guys’ attention.
“Hey, quick question. I was wondering,” I said, acting as nonchalantly as possible, “but who’s that guy over there? The one with the FU shirt and white shorts?”
“Ryan? Ah, yeah, we all know him. His family was one of Sigma Alpha Chi’s founding fathers. Christopher Redpine.”
“Redpine. Why does… wait, wait, wait.” My heart dropped to my feet. “Redpine, as in Redpine Global? The company known for fracking all across protected lands? Ruining natural habitats for over a hundred different endangered and rare species? Contributing to the metric shit tons of carbon that’s accelerating climate change and creating natural disasters all around the world? That Redpine Global?”
The frat guy scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t know about all that. But yeah. Redpine Global. Dude’s fucking loaded.”
“Got it, thanks.” I walked around the fraternity brother and through the inside of the messy and cluttered house.
I knew it. I fucking knew it.
So Ryan wasn’t straight, and he wasn’t a serial killer. Instead, he was the heir to the oil throne for a king hell-bent on ending the world while making his pockets fatter in the process.
Before I left the house, I deleted his number. If there was any kind of god or goddess in this world, then they’d hear my prayers and never make our paths cross.
Ever. Again.
Chapter Two
Ryan
Damn. I really hope I see Jay again.
There was something about him. And it wasn’t only that juicy-looking peach he carried in his jeans, although that had a lot to do with it.
A lot.
Like… a lot. Fuck. It felt so good pushing up against him. It didn’t matter that we had clothes on or were surrounded by a party of wasted college kids. I had started getting hard just being behind him like that. He separated from me before he could really feel it, but damn, I kind of wanted him to feel it.
And stroke it and lick it and suck it.
“Take the shot, Ryan!”
I got yanked out of my horny daydream by the drunk frat bro across from me. The last red Solo cup came into focus. I took a step back from the table and tossed the Ping-Pong ball, not even watching as it hit the target and knocked the last cup over, spilling beer onto the grass and earning me cheers from the gathered group.
“We’ve got our newest pledge,” Tyson—at least, I thought that was his name—said.
God. Could they not be so damn desperate to have me join the fraternity? It was so fucking obvious they wanted me here because of my dad and his money. None of them even knew my major or what I liked to do in my spare time, and yet they were so ready and eager to call me a brother. Ironic, considering I never really wanted a brother, so why would I all of a sudden want an entire house full of them? Especially when all of these smelled like a mixture of ball sweat and Natty Lights.
“I’m still not sure I’m joining, bro.” I saw the wind deflate out of Tyson’s sails. The music was loud and obnoxious, and my head started to hurt. I figured now would be a good time to make my escape.
“I’ll text you,” I said. I had a feeling Tyson was SAC’s president. He was taller than me by a few inches and carried himself with an importance that only came from being voted into your position. I grabbed a still-full Solo cup, chugged it down, set it back on the table, and turned to leave.