A heavy thud comes from behind as weights snap together from the tension. I turn to find Lucky nursing her left hand while seated at a pulley system.
“You okay?” Truthfully, I’m afraid to take a step in that direction.
“What do you care?” she barks so loud half the facility cranes their neck. Great. I can feel what’s coming next by a micropenis mile.
Lucky squeezes her eyes shut while trying to shake off the pain.
Crap. I head on over without putting too much thought into it.
“Here, let me see it.”
“Oh, so now you’re a doctor?” Those wild lavender eyes of hers glow like a pair of neon signs—they spell out crazy, crystal clear, but for whatever reason, my feet refuse to pivot.
“Yes, Dr. Kent here to see you.” I kneel down and pull her tiny hand forward—cold to the touch. Obviously, there’s no blood pumping through her, and that would explain the lack of a beating heart. “You pinched it.” I rub my thumb over the bright red spot already starting to swell. “You’ll live.” I place her hand gently onto her lap, and those oversized Disney eyes of hers blink back tears. “Hey, you up for using this thing or what?”
I might be willing to play doctor, but I’m no psychologist. There’s no way I’m delving in to find out what the waterworks are about. She couldn’t have smashed her hand that bad. I bet for her entire life Jet has catered to every cut and bruise, and now that she’s on her own, she can’t handle a smashed finger. This, right here, is where coddling someone will get you. A catatonic state in the gym—a spoiled brat everywhere else.
“Yes. Get away. I’m fine.” Lucky shakes her head as if trying to snap out of wherever her mind just took her. She threads her arms through the contraption in the wrong direction, and if she tries to do a single crunch that way, she’ll pull every muscle she owns.
“Whoa, princess. Easy there.” I gently remove her long slim arms from where they don’t belong and land them in the proper position. “Your legs are in the wrong place, too.” I sit down on the bench behind her, and her tiny frame presses tight against mine. I can’t help but smile at the irony. Her backside just butted up to my not-so-micro front side, and if she’s really got balls, she’ll apologize for challenging my manhood.
“Wow, you’re like a pillow.” She pushes against my body, and I can’t help but hold back a laugh. That was almost as good as an apology. Almost.
Her hair brushes against my chest, against my arms, and sends a flurry of prickling sensations straight down to my feet. The thick scent of something floral wafts up, and I can’t help but take in a deep breath. Damn, she smells good. Clean. Now that’s something you don’t get too often in a frat house full of sweaty dudes.
“All right. Put your feet in each of those stirrups and open wide. A position I’m sure you know well.”
Lucky grunts up at me with that all too familiar smirk I’m starting to enjoy invoking. “Watch it, buddy. You’re already too close for comfort. The only reason I’m letting you get away with this molestation is because my ass needs to get into shape.”
“Big decathlon coming up?” I try to tone down the sarcasm, but it’s nearly impossible around her.
“I wish.” She struggles to get her feet in the hooks just right, and I lift her thigh just enough to help her stick the landing.
Lucky’s thigh. My balls ache as my fingers glide over her creamy flesh. I’ve never felt a girl with such smooth skin. I try not to let my hand linger too long, lest she throws that disgusting M word at me once again.
“I just want to run the track with Harper”—she continues, out of breath—“and I can’t even keep up a single lap.” I’ve more than met Harper—she’s my little sister. Harper is hot. Everybody at Beta house is chomping at the bit to land that girl horizontal. The thought never really crossed my mind, though. I’m betting the fact she’s my little sis has everything to do with it. Ava and Grant were kicked out of the Greek interpersonal program for violating just about every term in the agreement. But I don’t plan on crossing that line with Harper. Besides, she’s got a boyfriend. Justin. I’ve heard about him at least a thousand times. He’s clear out in California, and he’s still ruining her good time here at Briggs. It’s just not right.
Lucky starts flapping her arms as if they were wings, causing the weights to swing erratic.
“Dude, you’re going to take my head off.” I land my hands over her arms to help regulate her movements. Lucky doesn’t knife my balls off, so she must be good with it. Her tiny muscles thump underneath mine like a heartbeat. And something about the sensation makes my own heart thump out of tune. It’s adorable. I’d tell her I find tiny things cute, too, but I’m guessing this isn’t the moment or the venue.
“Maybe taking your head off was the point?” She grunts through the next few revolutions. “You ever think of that?”
Figures. Here I’m trying to help, and she’s got a decapitation in the works.
“All right, sweetie. It’s been real.” I wrangle myself free from the contraption and take a few hopping steps away. “Anything you want to say to me?” I can’t help but give a cocky grin. “For your information, that was no micropillow you were leaning on.”
Her lips part as her jaw falls onto her lap. “That is disgusting! You are disgusting!” She snaps off her wristbands and flings them at me, and I catch them one by one.
“Nice.” I don’t hesitate shooting them across the gym and pegging Knox square in his buffed-out chest. “I’ll catch you later, princess.”
Knox nods over to me, excusing himself from Janelle, and I lead him the hell away from Lucky and her wild flailing as she attempts to master that pulley contraption on her own.
“Who’s the girl?” Knox glances over his shoulder, and I can’t help but glare in her direction.
“UnLucky Madden. All males who value their balls—and their egos should steer very, very clear.”
A dull laugh comes from him as he sneaks another glance her way. “You weren’t steering too clear. You sure you got the memo?”
“I wrote the memo. Hell, at this point, I feel like a living memo. What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just thought that she might be someone special. You two looked pretty close—literally. I guess I was wrong.” Those dark brows of his swoop in low. “It’d be nice if you had someone, though. We could hang out. Double date, stuff like that. Janelle eats that kind of thing up.”
I glance back to where his girlfriend waits patiently for him on the bench. “I guess our budding bromance is over. There’s no way she’s letting you out of her sight.”
Knox belts out a laugh and socks me hard in the arm. “You’ll get yours, buddy. Just you wait and see.” He looks back to Lucky, where she’s grunting and cussing at thin air, and his brows hike. “Who knows? Maybe that little spitfire is the one who’ll steal your heart?”
“She’s not a spitfire. She’s an inferno. And she doesn’t steal hearts. She eats them. I’ll catch you later.”
I hit the cool evening air with my stepbrother’s words still strumming through my ears.
Nope.
Lucky Madden isn’t getting anywhere near my balls or my heart.
My boxers tick as if protesting the idea, and I laugh all the way to my truck.
New goal for the weekend: find a hot chick to scratch that itch.
Lucky thumps through my mind—those lavender eyes of hers pulsating like a heartbeat.
Nope. I like my balls just fine the way they are.
Sorry, girl, looks like you’re out of luck.
The Princess and the Prince
Lucky
Thursday after classes, after a long week of listening to my professors drone on and on, I meet up with Ava and Harper down at Hallowed Grounds to discuss the minutia of life, dish on our new professors, and lament over the community interaction project Harper and I have entrenched ourselves in—and last, but definitely not least, tackling the all-important task of mapping out our weekend.
> “I have an announcement.” Harper pulls her straw from between her lips as if she were trying to seduce us. That’s the thing with Harper—she never has to try. Everywhere we go men fall all over her willingly. We have English Lit together, and, honest to God, I saw the professor ogling her as if she were a piece of meat hanging from a butcher’s rack.
I frown at her without meaning to. If I had Harper’s face and charm, I could easily begin my speed-dating spree throughout the entire Greek system.
“What’s the big news?” I’m not a fan of suspense.
They call Ava’s name at the counter, and she hops up to get her order. “Don’t say a word!” She scoots to the counter and lands back in her seat with her iced mocha and a heart-shaped confection that looks as if it was dipped into a vat of powdered sugar.
“What is that, and how fast can I get it in my mouth?” I’m practically drooling as I say it.
Ava’s mouth opens to answer before she’s distracted by something from over my shoulder.
“That’s what all the girls say when they see what I have to offer,” a deep voice rumbles into my ear. Lawson Kent. I close my eyes as his hot breath rakes over my cheek. Disgusting.
“Hey, good looking!” Ava spikes out of her seat and into Grant’s waiting arms, but I’m slow to turn my head to acknowledge Lawson’s presence.
We scoot in, and the boys take a seat at our table. I knew a booth was a bad idea. In truth, I thought Daisy and Piper would be the pair that would ruin our tête–à–tête, but a far more nefarious crowd has ruined the day. Not that Ava’s day is ruined.
Lawson scoots in uncomfortably close until his thigh is pressed tight to mine. That spiced cologne of his lights up my senses, and for a second I feel light and giddy. Dear God, I want to slap myself.
Harper leans over and gifts Lawson a high five. “You always have the best one-liners. You up for a run this weekend?”
“No can do.” He rocks those boulders he calls biceps into my arm. “I’m doing pro bono with this girl right here. I’m her new personal trainer.”
I glance up and meet with those dark green, laughing eyes. “Wow, I’ve never met a bigger liar.” Than me, I want to add but don’t. “And what’s with the cologne shower you took? I’m getting buzzed just sitting next to you.” Truth. The only reason I’m getting high is because he’s giving off toxic fumes.
He pumps out a dirty grin, those lids of his hang heavy, and you can practically see the lewd intentions oozing off him.
Ava and Grant are oblivious to our little exchange, because when Ava and Grant are in the same room, they’re suddenly oblivious to the rest of humanity.
“I’m not running with you,” I’m quick to inform him. “I’m plenty capable of getting into shape on my own.”
“You should do it.” Harper gives a nonchalant nod as she takes a swig of her drink. “It was Lawson who taught me a few valuable tricks to get my timing up to speed.” She snorts at her words. “Up to speed. Get it?” She shoots him another high five.
“You were pretty good without me.” Lawson reaches over and takes a sip of my coffee before sliding it back over, and I gag at the audacity. “But this one is a danger to herself and others. I’m serious. I’m even a little worried for the wildlife. I think a half-mile jog around the Witch’s Cauldron would be a good start.”
Harper groans as if remembering her first time with Lawson at the Witch’s Cauldron. Everybody knows the Witch’s Cauldron might as well be called the Witch’s Sex Pot. Any and every couple worth their Whitney Briggs’ merit has scalded themselves sexually in those semen-laced waters.
“Good luck getting me anywhere near that cesspool of carnality,” I grunt up at him. “And why, in God’s name, is your leg trying to infiltrate mine? Is this the Normandy invasion of Lucky Madden’s thigh?” I came this close to replacing thigh with vagina, but I happen to be in a public establishment—one I plan on visiting again within the next four years—so thigh it was. “If you had a dime in your pocket, I could tell if it were heads or tails.”
Lawson offers up a disgruntled huff of his own. “Why is your thigh pressed against mine? I’m on the edge—and, you, princess, have a good two feet of clearance on the other side.”
Harper flicks her straw in my direction. “He’s got you there, princess.”
“Neither of you has permission to ever call me that again.”
“Princess,” they shout in unison. “Jinx!” They break out into congratulatory laughter and share another annoying high five.
Hey? Maybe the reason Lawson is tap dancing on my last nerve is specifically because he wants to land Harper horizontal? It totally makes sense. Harper is basically destined to be a supermodel, and Lawson can’t seem to edge his way in, so he’s pretending to be interested in me. Why else wouldn’t he take her up on her offer? It’s the same lousy psychology that Daisy prescribed to Ava last semester when she told her to pretend she was into Rush.
I glance over to my bestie, who happens to be sucking face with her main squeeze, and frown. I guess the proof is in the Daisy Pembrooke pudding. I’m not Daisy’s biggest fan, but if all goes well for Lawson, his lips will be glued to Harper’s in a few months’ time as he tries to suck the living soul out of her.
Ava and Grant should really get a room, but considering our dorm is the closest, and I’m sort of craving my bed, I don’t dare suggest it.
Ava springs up. “You know what?” She drags Grant up with her and doesn’t bother taking her eyes off his. “I think I left your copy of The Odyssey up in my room. Let’s go get it.”
They speed out the door without so much as a goodbye—or a timeline of when I can expect to be reunited with my stuffed animal collection.
“So, what’s your news?” I scowl over at Harper. I suddenly feel the need to be entertained for the next hour or two.
She leans in with a deranged look in her eyes, an eerie grimace spreading over her face that I’m pretty sure she meant as a smile. “Justin and I are stronger than ever.”
“What?” I hate to break it to her, but in the future I suggest she not hype up this non-news worthy event. Harper and Justin take a break from one another every other week. In their case, stronger than ever is a relative term.
“Come on, Harp.” Lawson kicks her foot under the table before landing his knee to mine, warm and weighted. “I know you. What’s the real news?”
“Wow, you really are a great big brother.” She averts her eyes out the window before leaning in as far as the table will allow. “Justin is at Briggs.” She just about mouths the words.
“Like visiting?” Spring semester started an entire two weeks ago. There’s no way she could keep him a secret this long. Secrets are not Harper’s thing. She’s one of those genuinely nice people who can’t help but spill the truth—over and over and over again.
“Nope.” She shakes her head with a knotted-up smile on her lips. “He showed up on Monday. He’s here for good. He missed a week, but he has the all-clear from his professors. It’s official. My boyfriend and I are on the same campus, and nothing and no one will stop us from having our forever.”
Her phone burps and spins on the table as if it were comically objecting.
“That’s him!” She reads the text before collecting her things and hopping to her feet. “Hot date in the library.” She bites down on her lip so hard it forms a cherry that demands to pop. “I’ll catch you losers later.” She gives a sly wink and ditches out the door.
“Boyfriend.” Lawson shakes his head, dismayed.
“Knew it.” I force a laugh. “You’re into Harper, and you think that by annoying me with your presence she’ll fall headfirst into that micropenis of yours.”
His jaw goes slack as he takes a quick look around. “Would you stop with the micropenis talk? Geez.” He tucks his head back a notch to get a better look at me—most likely because he’s in awe of my sexual sleuthing skills. I’m a sex ninja in that respect. I can spot a prospective couple a mile away. My stom
ach knots up as if something warranted a red flag.
“And you’re wrong, by the way.” He squints out the window as evening falls hard over campus. “I’m not into Harper. She’s my little sister, and unlike some people”—he nods to where Ava and Grant were seated—“I respect my position.”
“What position is that?” I avert my eyes at the thought. “The missionary position? Or let me guess, a dog like you prefers to come in hard from behind.”
Those jade eyes of his widen. “Are you this charming to everyone, or is this something special just for me?” He pulls Harper’s abandoned drink forward and shakes the ice as if it’s a threat.
“I save all of my charisma and grace for you, my sweet prince.” I bat my lashes so fast I could put out a forest fire. “Charisma—let me use that in a sentence for you. My charisma brings all the psychotic boys to the yard. That would be you, by the way.”
“Charisma?” he huffs. “More like crazy. Let me use that in a sentence—you save all of your crazy for me.”
“Trust me, I’m not crazy for you.” A smug little grin settles on my lips from my masterful play on words.
“That’s right. You’re just plain crazy.”
“How do you know I don’t find that offensive? What if insanity runs in my family and you’ve just bruised the deepest part of my heart for being so glib about it?”
“I’m not glib.” He shakes his head at the empty booth across from us. “And believe me, insanity very much runs in your family. Case in point.” He jabs his finger in my direction.
As much as I’d like a stinging barb to come flying from my mouth, I think on this a moment. My father had issues—deep, disturbing issues that involved domestic violence and his love for a never-ending bottle of vodka. My mother and our little deceased secret come flooding back…
“Whoa.” Lawson shifts and groans, but I’m too deep in my familial trance to care. “Hey.” His arm falls over my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just—I thought we had this thing where we toss insults back and forth.”