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Friends with Benefits: A Steamy College Romance (Beta Brothers #2)

Page 10

by Hazel Kelly


  My stomach growled as I pulled out the chair across from her and remembered the husky tone of his voice when he tore his lips from mine and told me to turn around and bend over. Chills broke out under the sleeves of my green sweater as I thought of how I'd braced myself against a shelf of basketballs until he pulled me upright, his cock surging inside me as he sank his teeth into my throat and reached around to tease my clit.

  I swallowed and sat down carefully, thinking of how he'd stretched me. No doubt he was ruining me for other guys. Not that I cared.

  I couldn't even see other guys anymore.

  All I could see was Carter's steely gaze as he focused on pleasuring me, the tight clench of his jaw as he slid inside me, the way he licked his lips in the moments before he'd kiss me. As if he was always planning his next attack.

  Not that he need bother. Surely, I was the most willing, most complicit prey he'd ever caught.

  Zoey slid my burrito across the table and looked at me seriously. “So.”

  “So,” I said, unwrapping the spicy beef deliciousness that I'd been craving since we agreed to meet for lunch.

  “You've been in a good mood lately.”

  I could tell by her tone that it was more than an observation. More like an accusation. I shrugged.

  “What's his name?”

  My eyes flicked up from my meal. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What makes you think there's a he?”

  “I don't know,” she said, lifting her burrito with two hands. “You've been whistling.”

  “Whistling?”

  “And you seem…lit from within.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and wondered if I could blame that on my new concealer.

  “You've also been staying at Sadie's an awful lot.”

  “What do you care? You stay at Logan’s most of the time these days anyway.”

  “Is that where you were last night?” she asked. “At Sadie’s?”

  I leaned back. “What are you, some kind of detective? You want to take this to an empty room with a single overhead light?”

  “Just answer the question.”

  I scoffed.

  “I’m most interested in your whereabouts between midnight and nine a.m.”

  I laughed.

  She didn't. In fact, it was eerie how stoic her detective face was.

  “I told you,” I said. “I stayed at Sadie's.”

  She squinted at me. “Weird.”

  My stomach churned like it knew something I didn’t.

  “’Cause I saw Sadie at the bookstore this morning, and she said you've been blowing her off lately.”

  “That's not true.”

  “Neither is the fact that you stayed there, though, is it?”

  I dropped my eyes and took a bite so big I feared I might actually choke trying to get it down.

  “Why are you making such a big deal about this?”

  “Me?” I said, covering my stuffed mouth until I made space for my tongue to move. “You're the one leading an interrogation.”

  “Because someone needs to know where you are,” she said. “It's not safe for you to disappear from the bar and not tell anyone where the heck you're going.”

  I swallowed. “Would you relax?”

  “Why won't you just tell me what you’ve been up to?” she asked. “You know I would never judge you.”

  I thought of how honest she'd been with me about her own trials in love, but that was different. She wanted guidance. She needed somebody to talk to about her situation, somebody to help her make sense of things. Whereas verbally dissecting the gloriously dangerous mess I'd gotten myself into was the last thing I wanted.

  It wasn’t like I was embarrassed that I was hooking up with Carter. He was super hot and funny, and it would be hard to find a more bragworthy conquest. But his reputation was no secret, either, and, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but feel that the fewer people who knew I was the giddiest notch on his bedpost the better. After all, the whole point of this experiment was to have a relationship that wouldn’t blow up in my face and leave me looking a fool in front of everyone I knew.

  She cocked her head. “Nina.”

  “Zoey.”

  “Is it more than one guy?”

  I didn't know how to answer that. I mean, he had different sides.

  “Fine,” she said, lifting her palms. “Don't tell me.”

  I could feel her disappointment across the table.

  “The important thing is that you're happy.”

  Ugh. The fact that I was being a lousy friend was written all over her face. “I am.”

  Her eyes were a strange blend of happy, sad, and hopeful.

  “I just don't want to jinx it, okay?”

  She rolled her big blue eyes.

  “Seriously, Zo. You know my track record with guys sticking around is crap.”

  “That's not a good reason to hide shit from me.”

  “I know.”

  “Yet you're still not going to tell me who I should thank for the fact that you’ve turned into a cheerful little scone fairy?”

  I bit my lip.

  “They aren't a food group, by the way,” she said. “In case you're not eating anything else.”

  “I am.” Mostly Reese's Pieces and fast food, to be honest, but as long as I’m burning it off…

  “Just promise me something.”

  I met her gaze with raised brows.

  “Please play it safe.”

  “You sound like your dad.”

  “I don't just mean physically,” she said. “I mean mentally, too.”

  I nodded. “Anything else?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “If he hurts you, will you tell me?”

  I lowered my chin. “Why? So you can seek revenge on my behalf?”

  “No. Because I can't stand the thought that you'd hurt on your own.”

  “What?”

  “By all means, keep your happiness to yourself,” she said. “If that's what you want.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But don't hurt on your own…if it ever comes to that.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Zo, but I'm not going to get hurt.”

  “Perfect,” she said. “Then forget I interrogated you.”

  I laughed. “I’ll try.”

  “And don’t forget that my door is always open,” she added. “You know, in case you change your mind and want to give your curious bestie all the gory details.”

  I smiled, grateful for her understanding. “I'll keep that in mind.”

  T W E N T Y T W O

  - Carter -

  DeVito's was always packed at lunchtime, and the smell of sizzling onions wafting through the place was making me increasingly impatient for Kellan’s arrival. I checked my watch, but he wasn't even late yet. Still, there was only so much time I could spend looking at oversized pictures of sandwich ingredients set against black and yellow tiles before I caved and ordered.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” I mumbled a few minutes later when my brother walked in and headed my way.

  “Hey,” he said, lifting his chin in my direction before hanging his coat on the hook at the end of the table.

  “You on your way to a costume party?” I asked as he slid in the booth across from me.

  He shook his head like he didn't know what I was talking about.

  “Between the man-purse and those glasses…” The thick rims made him look like a nerdy hipster, which he wasn't. Nerdy yes, but trendy and into statement accessories? Absolutely not.

  “What?” He leaned back and raised a hand to scratch the dark stubble on his jaw.

  “Are your balls in the purse?” I asked. “Is that where you keep them now?”

  He rolled his eyes. “First of all, it's not a purse. It's a messenger bag.”

  “Is the message that you’re gay now?”

  “Believe it or not, the message isn't for you.”

  “What happened to your conta
cts?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “The glasses make me look older.”

  I scoffed. “Not the word I would've picked.”

  “And the man bag—” He dragged a palm over its black exterior. “Which is Tumi, by the way—”

  “If you think the fact that it was expensive makes it less gay, I've got bad news for you.”

  “Whatever. It helps set me apart from my students.”

  “That, I believe.”

  “For your information, most of the unsolicited feedback I’ve gotten on my new look has been positive.”

  I threw my eyes to the sky. “No doubt. I'm usually really sweet to people, too, if I suspect they've come unhinged.”

  He seemed no more affected by my taunting than he did when I made fun of his caped pajamas as a kid. “Well, I wish I could return the favor by saying you look like shit, but you actually don't.”

  “Thanks.” I flipped the menu open more out of habit than curiosity, since I probably could've recited all eleven items by heart.

  “No more than usual anyway.”

  “Afternoon, gentleman.” A perky blonde sidled up to the table in a short apron. “What can I get you today?”

  “Another one of those pretty smiles would be a start,” my brother said, his eyes sparkling at her.

  I held my groan in.

  “Well aren't you charming,” she said, giggling as she blushed and tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear.

  “He's really not,” I said, scowling across the table. “Once you get to know him.”

  The comment seemed to sober her, and she cleared her throat.

  “I'll have the number six with Coke,” Kellan said, still giving her bedroom eyes. “Please.”

  I wondered if I should go no onions in case Nina answered my text about a potential “frolfing” lesson after her last class. Unfortunately, getting no onions at this place was like ordering a Whopper with no meat patty. Whatever. If I had to spend the next three hours gargling mouthwash, it would be worth it. Not only for the sandwich, but to feel her soft lips on mine.

  Last time we hooked up, she did this thing where she tugged at my bottom lip with her teeth, biting me just hard enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. Even thinking about it now gave me the best kind of chills.

  “Carter,” Kellan said, snapping me back to attention.

  “Sorry.” I directed my focus back to the girl in front of me.

  “That's okay,” she said, her eyes bending into little crescents. “Take your time.”

  “Don't give him an inch or next thing you know he'll have your number, too,” Kellan said, getting me back for spoiling his previous flirtation.

  “That would be okay,” she said, blushing at me.

  I was used to girls being surprisingly forward, but it happened more than usual when I was with my brother. I'm not sure why, though Kellan believed it was a combination of his dark features, my fair ones, and the fact that we both had too much testosterone for our own good. “I'll have the number seven,” I said, hoping to put an end to this charade. “With Coke.”

  Her face paled as her smile fell. “Coming right up.”

  “Why do you have to be such an asshole?” he asked after she walked away.

  “I’m not an asshole. I just don’t want her number.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “It’d be worth it for one titty fuck.”

  I shook my head. “You're pathetic.”

  “Pathetic is not gracefully accepting my assist.”

  “I don't need your help in this department.”

  “I know,” he said. “But you could’ve taken it just to be polite. Now she'll probably spit in my sandwich for setting her up for your dismissive rejection.”

  “I came here to eat, not to hit on undergrads.”

  His eyes grew wide. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “I said I came here to eat, not to hit on women.”

  “That's what I thought.” He leaned back and spread his hands flat on the table. “Who are you and what have you done with my baby brother?”

  “Don't be so dramatic.”

  “I mean it. My father’s the meanest lawyer on the east coast, and I swear over Carter's dead body you'll pay dearly for what you've done.”

  I laughed.

  “Who is she?”

  “I don't know,” I said, glancing back at the waitress who was clearing a table nearby. “Never seen her before.”

  He groaned. “Not her. Who's the girl that's ruined you?”

  “I'm not ruined.”

  “So you have met someone.”

  “I didn't say that.”

  “Have I met her?”

  “No.”

  “Don't lie to me,” he said. “I've fucking met her, haven't I?”

  I pretended to think back, even though I knew he’d met her exactly two times because on both occasions I was nervous as hell. After all, what if she fell for him and it was the Samantha Baker fiasco all over again? Granted, we weren’t in high school anymore, but I’d never forget how it felt to pine for a girl my brother was fingering against every locker in the building. “I'm not sure,” I said, deciding to be vague since he could usually tell when I was lying outright. “Maybe?”

  “It's cool if you don't want to tell me,” he said. “I'm sure she'll insist you make it Facebook official any day now.”

  Why did that statement leave me cold? Shouldn’t I be relieved to know Nina would never insist on that?

  “Congratulations in advance, by the way.” He drummed the fingers of one hand on the table. “It's about time you grew up.”

  “You should talk.”

  “Our situations are different,” he said. “I haven't shopped around enough yet.”

  “Because you wasted so much time with Sam.”

  “Au contraire,” he said. “Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”

  I thought of Nina instantly. How would she feel if she knew I spent most of my time these days counting down to when I could see her again? “Well, Facebook won't be filling you in on this one, I'm afraid.”

  His dark brows came together. “Is she not on it? Is she heinous or something?”

  I laughed at the outrageous suggestion. “Not at all. She just doesn't want anything serious.”

  His face fell. “Oh shit.”

  My chest tightened.

  He leaned an ear towards me. “So she doesn't, and you do?”

  I swallowed.

  “Damn. Karma's a bitch, eh?”

  The color drained from my cheeks as I clenched my jaw.

  “Is that her name?” he asked. “Karma?”

  “You're fucking hilarious, you know that?”

  “Tell me,” he said. “What's it like to be the woman in the relationship?”

  “I'm really not in the mood, Kellan.”

  “You have it so bad for this girl that you can't even joke about it?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”

  His features softened the moment he decided to stop kicking me while I was down. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  He didn't know the half of it. I was worried she'd meet someone else, worried she'd hear a story about me that would be one rumor too far, worried she'd get bored, worried I was giving too much of myself away to someone who thought I was capable of nothing more than a good time.

  He bent his head to catch my eye. “She'll come around.”

  I raised my gaze to meet his, suddenly feeling like I was eight and he was ten and he was explaining how we were going to attack the invisible Indians that were about to come in our back yard and scalp us. And even though I knew he was bullshitting me then, too, his faith in me was so tangible I was determined not to let him down.

  “And you'll be there when she does,” he said. “Waiting.”

  I sighed. “And if she doesn't?”

  “Then she's not good enough for my baby brother.”

  T W E N T Y T H R E E

  - Nina -
/>   The main hall at the Beta House was more crowded than I'd ever seen it, and the drinks had been flowing all night. If ever there were a moment I wouldn't waste my time trying to get everyone’s attention, this was it. Yet all Carter had to do was jump up on the wobbly-ass beer pong table and put his hands in the air.

  Every guy in the room cheered as he turned in a careful circle, while every girl felt a pang of panic at whether the wobbly hinges beneath him would hold up. Or maybe not every girl, but certainly me.

  He bounced his arms in a giant V, the cheers of the crowd rising as he urged them on. And then, when his hands were all the way over his head and the noise was dizzying, he slapped them down at his sides and the room fell silent.

  “Thank you for your attention,” Carter said, seemingly oblivious to the way the cups of cheap beer trembled at his feet. “I just want to take a moment to remind everyone what we came here to celebrate tonight, in case any of your handsome hosts have failed to make this clear.”

  Zoey elbowed me, raised her brows, and tilted her head towards the shaking table.

  I shrugged, pretending I didn't care if he fell on his gorgeous ass- or worse, his gorgeous face, which was constantly stirring feelings in me I didn't know I was capable of.

  “This is a very special day for our house,” he said, talking with his hands. “Both today and throughout history.”

  I pressed my lips together. From where I was standing, the bulge in his jeans looked even more prominent than usual.

  “As you all know, on this day ten years ago, Ash Warburton broke the hot dog eating record at Warby’s before streaking across the quad in a show of pride that elevated our house to new heights.”

  I wonder how it would feel to have him come on my lower back, right on the spot he always scratched with his nails until my spine buzzed all the way to my scalp.

  “So not only do we celebrate him tonight for his epic physicality, but we also recognize another of our finest brothers,” he said, lifting a hand to speak behind it. “Who, for my money, is even more of a legend.”

  “Blasphemy!” some kid shouted from across the room.

  Zoey reached over and rubbed Logan's back.

  “Without a doubt, Logan Jones has the most skilled hands that have ever raised a glass under this roof,” Carter said, letting his innuendo linger for a moment. “And thanks to his dazzling new website, you can now own a piece of furniture as solid as this brotherhood.”

 

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