When Sinners Play: An Enemies to Lovers College Bully Romance (Sinners of Hawthorne University Book 1)

by Eva Ashwood

  “I think I’m going with Gray. And probably Declan and Elias too.”

  “Cool.” She tilts her head, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder as she glances at me. “They really do everything together, huh?”

  I don’t miss the heavy innuendo in her voice, and I swat at her lightly. “I should never have fucking told you about that night.”

  “Um, yes, you most definitely should have.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “Jesus, that kind of action is the sort of thing most of us girls just dream about. Has it been weird at all between you four? Now that things are kind of going somewhere with Gray?”

  “I don’t know.” I hike my messenger bag higher on my shoulder, glancing around the busy campus without really taking it in. “Not really? I mean, we all still hang out together. But there’s… something between me and Declan and Elias. I don’t know what to do about it though. Nothing’s official. Hell, not even Gray and I are officially anything. We’re just… finding our way.”

  Max nods sagely. “That’s not a bad plan. You had such a rough beginning, and even if things are better now, it doesn’t erase any of that. Take things slow.” She nudges my shoulder again. “Hold on to your heart.”

  “With both fucking hands,” I assure her dryly.

  “Good.”

  The smile reappears on her face as we split up to head to our respective dorms, and she gives a little wave before she disappears into her building.

  I head up the stairs at a fast clip and dump my messenger bag on the floor as soon as I step inside my little apartment, letting out an audible sigh of relief at the knowledge that I won’t have to carry it anywhere for the next few weeks.

  Gray texts me a few minutes later to let me know what time he’ll pick me up, and I jump in the shower before sliding on a pair of curve-hugging jeans and a casual but sexy top that shows off a hint of cleavage as well as a few tantalizing glimpses of my tattoos. I put on a little makeup and gather my blue-blonde hair into a loose ponytail, then step back to admire my handiwork in the mirror.

  I won’t be as glammed up as some of the girls at the party tonight; I’m sure of that.

  But this outfit makes me feel sexy. It makes me feel like me.

  And no matter who tries to make me feel like shit for my messed up childhood or my druggie mother, I’m still damn proud of who I am.

  I made it this far.

  And tonight, I’m gonna fucking celebrate that.

  29

  Gray must like my outfit too.

  Less than a second after I open my dorm room door and step out, he’s got me pinned against the wall in the hallway, his large, muscled body pressed against mine as his lips and teeth devour the skin of my neck.

  My fingers thread through his hair as I tip my head back, staring up at the ceiling with half-focused eyes as pleasure shoots through me like little sparks.

  Fuck, how does he do this?

  A door closes down the hall, and several first-year girls shoot me dirty looks before they head toward the elevator. Gray’s got one of his hands up my shirt, sliding over my waist, and we’re grinding against each other like horny teenagers. But I have a feeling those girls would be pissed if all we were doing was looking into each other’s eyes from several feet apart. They’re not annoyed by the PDA. They’re annoyed that Gray likes me. Period.

  Well, whatever. I didn’t come to this school to please a bunch of snobby bitches.

  When Gray finally pulls back from me, we’re both breathing a little harder, and I can feel the unmistakable bulge of his cock pressing into my lower belly. He stares down at me, biting his lip as if he’s wondering whether this party is really all that important after all.

  I’m right there with him on that.

  But I told Max I’d see her there, and I want to see Declan and Elias too. I want to celebrate, maybe even get a little drunk.

  And then fuck Gray Eastwood’s brains out.

  As if he can read my plans for the evening written across my face, Gray makes a hungry little growl in his throat, then steps back and threads his fingers through mine, tugging me away from the wall. “Come on, Sparrow. Let’s go.”

  The party is at another sprawling mansion in the hills, and the place is already packed by the time we show up. I have a feeling some people started pre-gaming the second their last final wrapped up.

  Declan and Elias are already there, and despite the noise and chaos, they both look up as soon as we enter. Elias’s face splits into a wide grin, and instead of Declan’s usual half-smile, I’m gifted with a full one. It beams so bright that my stomach flutters a little as the two of them make their way through the crowd toward us.

  Elias jerks his chin to Gray in greeting before gazing down at me. “You look fucking amazing, Blue.”

  He drops his head and presses a kiss to my cheek, but I turn my head a little as he does it, which makes his lips brush the corner of my lips. I feel a strange sort of tug in my stomach, like a hook has wrapped around the core of me and is pulling me toward him, and our lips linger for a second in this almost-kiss.

  My heart thuds in my chest as we break apart, and Elias’s light brown eyes turn darker as his pupils expand.

  Jesus. We kissed a lot more than that at the afterparty, but somehow this feels more loaded with meaning.

  Maybe because this time there’s no ulterior motive coloring it. Because this time, instead of trying to piss Gray off, I’m hoping he’ll be okay with it.

  As Elias steps back, Declan moves in to take his place. He doesn’t kiss me—on the mouth or anywhere else—but he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug.

  “You did it, Soph. Fucking congratulations.”

  His curse-laden words of encouragement make me smile, and I suck in a deep breath of his woodsy, warm scent like I’m hoarding it until I can get my next fix.

  When we break apart, Gray is watching both of his friends with an inscrutable look on his face.

  I thread my fingers through his again, enjoying the way his hand grips mine back immediately. “Drinks?”

  “Fuck, yeah.”

  The four of us make our way through the house, although it takes us longer than I expect it to because the guys, unlike me, are actually popular. We keep getting stopped by people wanting to say hi or guys wanting to fist bump or whatever.

  I notice Cliff and the rest of the Saints in one corner of the room, lording over a few obviously drunk first-year girls, and my skin crawls.

  I want to march over there and tell all of those girls to watch out for that lecherous motherfucker, but it’s not like they don’t already know. The whole school has heard about his attempted assault on me, but some people either don’t believe it or just don’t care.

  Caitlin, Gemma, and Reagan all glare at me like usual as we brush past them on our way to the kitchen, but I ignore them.

  “Sophie!”

  When we enter the large kitchen, where almost every available surface is covered in bottles of some kind of booze, Max looks up and grins at me. She leaves Jeff and Abigail and a few other friends and slips through the crowd to give me a hug.

  “S’up? You look hot, girl!”

  I grin. “You too.”

  She shrugs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Three weeks of no classes? That’s something worth celebrating.”

  “Cheers to that.” I take the drink Gray hands me and hold it up to clink the rim against Max’s drink.

  “Hey, Declan! Elias!” A voice rises over the din in the kitchen, and Taylor, a second-year who’s on the football team with Gray, lifts one hand in the air as he grins. “Come on, you fuckers. Time to pay up.”

  “Ah, fuck.” Elias groans and rolls his eyes. He glances down at me. “We’ll be right back.”

  He and Declan make their way through the throng of people toward Taylor, and they head into another room off the kitchen with a few other guys.

  I glance at Gray, my eyebrows pulling together. “What the hell was that about? Pay up for wh
at?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Just a stupid bet they made. It’s nothing.”

  Before I can press for more, Max grabs my elbow. “Come dance with me. Sorry, Gray, I’ll give her back to you soon.”

  I snort at the implication that she’ll be giving me to anyone, least of all Gray, but I follow her through the crowd as she pulls me toward a large room that’s full of gyrating bodies. The music is even louder in here, the heavy beat thumping through my body, and I join Max in the middle of the crowd as we dance.

  Gray didn’t join us, but I can feel his gaze on me as I move to the rhythm of the music, and it’s almost as good as his hands. When I glance over, I find him standing at the edge of the crowd, leaning languidly against the wall as his blue-green eyes burn with fire.

  I let my movements become a little more sensual, arousal building deep in my core as I lock gazes with him.

  A few guys come up to say hi to him, and several girls approach with a sway in their hips, obviously willing to try their luck even though it’s no secret on campus that Gray and I have been hooking up.

  He barely speaks to the guys and flat-out ignores the girls. Something else spreads through me as I watch him; I don’t quite know what to call this new feeling. I’m almost scared to put a name to it, but it mingles with the desire that licks through my veins, flooding my chest with warmth.

  Several more people crowd onto the dance floor as the song changes, and I lose sight of Gray for a bit as Max and I keep dancing. When the song changes again and a slow, heavy beat fills the room, I search for him again in the dimly lit room.

  When I catch sight of him, my rhythm falters.

  He’s moved a little, still standing against the wall but in a different part of the large space.

  It’s not the change in his location that gives me pause though. It’s the change in him.

  A few moments ago, his eyes were heated and warm, full of hunger as he watched me. Now he’s not looking at me at all. I’m not sure he’s looking at anything. He’s staring out over the sea of dancers with a hard edge to his expression, his jaw tight.

  A knot slowly builds in my stomach as he presses away from the wall and makes his way around the perimeter of the room, his entire body rigid and tense. He glances over his shoulder once before heading up a set of stairs that lead to the second floor of the house.

  What the fuck?

  I don’t know what brought about the change in him, but a ripple of unease passes through me.

  What just happened? What changed?

  Telling myself it’s none of my damn business and it shouldn’t matter anyway, I try to go back to dancing with Max. But I only make it through half a song before the tension in my gut becomes too much for me to brush off.

  I don’t know what’s going on with Gray, but I won’t be able to relax until I find out.

  “Hey, I’ll be right back,” I whisper-yell over the music to Max, who nods. I shove my way through the press of bodies and set my drink down on a small table by the stairs before heading up them.

  The din of music and voices fades only slightly as I step onto the second-floor landing. The hallway is dark, and the doors on either side of it are closed. Bedrooms, probably. Maybe one is a home office or a bathroom. Honestly, these fucking houses are so big I can’t even guess what half the rooms are for.

  I move slowly down the hall, wondering if Gray ended up outside somehow. There’s a door that looks like it leads to a balcony at the end of the corridor, so maybe he went out that way.

  But when I’m halfway down the dark hall, a muffled voice stops me.

  It’s Gray. He didn’t go outside. He’s in one of the rooms.

  I hesitate for a second, wondering if I should turn back or knock on the door, when he speaks again. His words are a little hard to hear, muffled by the thick wood and partially drowned out by the noise seeping up from below, but I hear enough.

  “…can get rid of her. She’s almost dropped out more than once already, so it won’t be hard.”

  My heart stutters in my chest, seeming to come to a complete stop for a moment before it starts thrashing wildly, spurred on by the surge of adrenaline in my veins.

  I take a step closer to the door, holding my breath.

  He’s talking about me. I know he is.

  Another voice speaks. I’m pretty sure it’s male, but whoever it is must be standing farther from the door or talking in a quieter tone, because I can’t decipher any of the words.

  Gray makes a noise that could be a laugh. “There’s nothing special about her. She’s not fucking worth it. She’ll be gone by next semester anyway. I’ve got it handled, all right?”

  The gallop of my heart has become so fast that I can’t even feel the individual beats anymore. I stare at the dark wood of the door and the smooth metal handle, trying to comprehend what I’m hearing from behind it.

  I’m not wrong. There’s no one else that could be but Gray. I know his voice well enough by now to be certain of that.

  A crack tears through my chest, as painful as if someone has physically ripped me in two. Nausea roils my stomach.

  A few months ago, I could barely even feel my heart. I kept a black hole in the place where it should be, and I let that blackness smother every feeling that tried to rise up.

  But Gray changed that. Declan and Elias changed that.

  They showed me that I do have a heart.

  And now I can feel every piece of it as it breaks.

  My feet shuffle against the hardwood as I step back from the door, recoiling from it as if the damn thing is radioactive. My stomach is twisting into a giant knot, and my legs shake as I turn and walk quickly back down the hallways.

  Anger and pain coil together as they surge through my body, the two emotions almost indistinguishable from each other.

  Hold on to your heart, Max told me.

  I promised her I had. But I clearly fucking lied.

  Whether I meant to or not, I gave it over to Gray Eastwood. And he carved his initials in it before crushing it beneath his heel.

  Was every fucking thing between us a lie?

  I can’t stand to answer that question, so I just rush down the stairs as fast as I can, barely taking in the party that’s still raging around me. I grab my drink and down it in three swallows, gritting my teeth against the sharp burn.

  It’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough. I want to go back to the kitchen and grab a full fucking bottle of whiskey, then drink until the stabbing pain in my chest goes away.

  But more than that, I want out of here.

  I can’t be around these fucking people for another second. I can’t stand their petty brutality, their pretty little lies, and their vicious deceptions. I’m fucking done.

  Gray was the one who drove us here, but there’s no way in hell I’m going anywhere with him. Max disappeared from the dance floor while I was upstairs, and I’m not even sure I can talk to her yet anyway. I just need a fucking minute alone.

  Pushing my way through the crowd, I make my way deeper into the house, finally ending up in a wing that’s quiet and deserted. I stop in a dim hallway similar to the one on the second floor and brace my palm against the wall, letting my head droop as I suck in ragged breaths through my nose.

  Fuck.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Tears press at the backs of my eyelids, stinging sharply, and I dig the heel of my hand into my eyes. I will not fucking cry. Gray Eastwood doesn’t get to have that from me.

  My pulse finally stops racing, flipping from fast and uneven to slow and labored.

  I want to leave, to stalk out of this house and walk back to Hawthorne if I have to. But I can’t stand the thought of running. I’m stronger than that, goddammit.

  I have to confront Gray.

  My jaw clenches. I can’t imagine what the hell he’ll say to try to justify flipping on me again, but I have to hear him say it. More than that, I have to tell him face-to-face that he can fuck right off. That I’m done lett
ing him jerk me around.

  I push away from the wall and turn to head back the way I came.

  But as soon as I spin around, the world tilts strangely in my vision. I press an unsteady hand to the wall again, wondering if I’m about to have another fucking episode—my emotional state is certainly enough to bring one on.

  This doesn’t feel the same though.

  I’m not dizzy, the way I normally get.

  I’m… fuzzy.

  It feels like someone packed my brain full of cotton, and it’s dampening my thoughts, slowing communication between my brain and body. When I try to take my hand away from the wall, there’s a several-second delay before my arm moves. And when I try to take a step forward, my foot can barely find the ground again. The world tilts sharply to the side, and I slam against the wall, almost going to my knees.

  No. This isn’t an episode.

  My lagging brain puts the pieces together, and I can feel panic flooding me—but even that is dull, a distant emotion that almost feels like it belongs to someone else.

  Drugged.

  I’ve been drugged.

  My mouth drops open, but instead of a cry for help, the only thing that comes out is a low moan.

  The last few shreds of rational thought scream at me to find Max, to find help. I force my uncoordinated feet to stagger down the hall, my upper body crashing against the wall as I keep losing my balance.

  Rough hands grab me from behind, fingers digging into my biceps as someone drags me sideways.

  There’s an open door on one side of the hall, and I have only enough time to register a set of dark stairs leading down before my body is shoved forward.

  My hands try to reach out, to grab for something to stop my movement, but they’re too slow.

  I fall, and I keep falling, tumbling down the steps in a blur of chaos and pain.

  My head cracks sharply against a hard surface as my body comes to a stop.

  And then I don’t feel anything at all.

  To Be Continued…

  How Sinners Fight, book two in the Sinners of Hawthorne University series, is coming soon! Preorder it on Amazon HERE.