“Not a problem.” He taps my arm with his fist. “Hey, I’m not holding anything against you. In fact, swing by the Black Bear if you get a chance. I want you to meet Baya. She’s more than okay with you working here. She wants to reassure you herself; she made it a point to tell me so.”
“I’d like that.” A swell of relief pushes through me. “I’m still”—I pause from the impromptu confession working its way up my throat—“I’m still in touch with my sister.”
“You do whatever you need to do. If it were my sister, I’d still be in touch with her, too. Look, I know that Aubree is sick, and I hope she’s getting the help she needs. I’m not making excuses for her, but I’m not wishing anything bad upon her either.” His phone buzzes, and he winces as if he needs to take it.
“I’ll catch you later. Thanks again.” I turn to scoop up my things and note Wyatt isn’t in the room. It’s just the partying princess and me.
“You can’t deny you’re stalking me now.” Her lips invert at the tips, and it’s a cute look on her.
She’s pouty, irate, wanting to claw my eyes out, and that’s what’s getting my dick’s attention? Maybe I should get my head checked out as well. Clearly, insanity runs in my family. My eyes glide down her body. It’s the first time she’s not gesticulating while wearing my favorite iced drink or glaring at me in a dimly lit room. Piper is beautiful, with a body that has the power to reduce the male population to marshmallows. She’s what most of the boys I work for would beg me to land in their beds. Of course, for someone like her, the fee would be exorbitant. The hotter they are, the harder they fall onto the mattress of my manipulation. But one look at her at that rally, that desperate look in her eyes to get the girls from Alpha Chi to like her, and I saw my own sister. Both of them, actually. Aubree when she first landed at Briggs. She did any and everything to get into that twisted organization, and eventually it was her downfall. And I saw Ava in them, too, with her burgeoning beauty and outward need for the world to like her, her hunger and thirst to be accepted.
“You caught me. I’m a stalker.” I hold up my hands as if surrendering to this bizarre fantasy of hers. “And now I’ve got you right where I want you, working alongside me for the next two years.”
She gives a cute as hell smirk. “Sounds like a prison sentence.”
Aubree swims through my mind, but I let her swim right back out. I don’t want Piper to become some transference issue I might be having with my ex-con of a sibling.
“It won’t be. I’m not here to watch your every move or make you fall in love with me. I’m here to glean what I can so that when I’m thrown out into the real business world, I stick the landing. I’m knee-deep in a shithole. I need this internship. I’m not here to ruin your good time. Try not to ruin mine.”
A moment of silence clots up the air.
“Wow.” Her eyes widen as she blinks back her disdain for me.
I can’t remember the last time I spoke to a girl that way, and a seam of remorse rips through me. I’m not sure why, but something about her brings out the worst in me. I don’t like that either. On second thought, this just might pan out to be a prison sentence.
She scoffs. “You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“I’m learning from the master.” I harden my gaze into hers, and a dull ache churns in my balls. Down, boy, this isn’t the girl that’s going to alleviate any pressure you might build up, so don’t even go there.
“So, what’s the deal?” She folds her arms over her ample chest and shudders. My eyes demand to dip to her bust line. She’s curvy. I’m guessing a full C-cup. I can’t help but admire it a moment. I’m a hopeless pervert at heart, and I happen to be a tit man. Nothing wrong with that, except, of course, when you’re standing in a boardroom decrying the fact you need to maintain professionalism to save your neck upon graduation.
I clear my throat, returning my gaze to its proper upright position. “The deal is, we need to hustle this start-up to anyone who will listen. For every company we bring them, we get a bonus of a thousand dollars.”
“A thousand dollars?” Her forehead wrinkles as if questioning the paltry sum.
“Yes, a thousand dollars. I get it. That’s one lousy pair of shoes for you, but for me that’s rent, dinner, and a movie—maybe a new lube job.”
“Lube job?” Her gaze dips to my crotch, and a laugh struggles to break free, but I won’t let it.
“Don’t worry. I’m not giving you one.”
Her mouth falls open.
“So, did you get in?” I pull a seat out for her, and she reluctantly takes it.
“No. Rush hasn’t even started yet. It starts Friday. But I’m a shoo-in.” She hitches her hair behind her ear with a smug grin.
“What makes you think so?”
“The girls in charge think they’re the world’s greatest matchmakers, and as long as I appear interested in their hand-selected side of beef, that should stroke their ego into gifting me a bed.”
“What?” I squint into her, trying to figure out if this is simply a devious side of her or if she truly does belong with the mindfucks that run that twisted organization.
She bites hard over her bottom lip, letting it out slow as January. I watch as the white imprint of her teeth ripens a cherry red, and my dick ticks at the sight.
“I saw you with that girl.” Her head twitches to the side. “She took off, and then you left. You had quite the estrogen-based beehive surrounding you all night. Looks like you chose a lemon.” A smug look of satisfaction crests over her, and I’d like nothing better than to wipe it off by crushing my lips to hers.
What the hell am I thinking? She’s young. Too young in fact. And she’s essentially my boss’s little sister. This girl is an illegal catch, and I’m staying the hell away from her, at least in that capacity. My dick twitches again in protest.
“She wasn’t a lemon.” I close my laptop and scoot into her, our eyes locking with heat. “Anja never is. She’s a Russian beauty.” My lids hood over as she lets out a breath. “She’s sweet.” I lean in. “Tastes like sugar.”
“Gross.” Piper sticks her finger down her throat. “I don’t need a road map to figure out you’re the king of spilling your questionable and possibly STD-riddled bodily fluids all over campus. I’m just counting my lucky stars all I was met with was your Starbucks discards and a cheap beer.” She leans in with a mixture of disdain and disgust brewing on her face. “God forbid you should come at me with something sinister squirting from your body.” She lowers her gaze to my crotch before riding back up.
“You’re the one who’s gross.” Now it’s my turn to give a smug smile, but that only has her snarling. “All right, truce.” I hold up my hands.
“No truce. I’m never letting down my defenses with you. I know your type.” She takes out her laptop and pulls up the Capwell, Edwards, and James Media Services website.
“What type is that?” I pull up the same website on my own laptop and wonder how in the hell we’re ever going to work together.
Piper glances over. Her dark hair catches the light and shines like a mirror. There’s pain in her eyes, something hidden underneath that I’d like to think is the reason she’s holding up this hardened front. Something or someone has hurt this little girl, and now she’s contorted herself into a ball of piss and vinegar just to make it through the livelong day. God knows I understand that feeling. Sometimes putting up a front is the only way to survive.
She nails me with those day-glow eyes. Her hatred for me ramps up to unnatural levels, and I brace myself for the onslaught.
“You’re nothing but a heartless player who makes a game of landing girls in your bed, only to laugh at them later at their expense.” Her expression dims as if she’s checking out and heading to some faraway place. “And then you tell your buddies about it, and before you know it, the entire school pegs her as a cock-tease.”
“Is that what happened?” I’m no mathematical genius, but I sure as hell kno
w one plus one equals the cock-tease in question.
Her lashes flutter in a series of rapid-fire blinks as she slams her laptop shut. “You know what? I completely forgot I have an appointment.” She swallows hard, stuffing her laptop back into her pricey leather bag, the color of butter. “If Wyatt asks, just tell him to call me.” She zips out the door as quick as she came. The scent of wildflowers straggles behind in her wake.
I was right. Something or someone smashed her heart to pieces, and now Piper is a spitfire ready to set the world in flames over one crooked look. And as much as it breaks my heart, she’s not my problem.
That dull ache in my gut says maybe she is.
Maybe I want her to be.
Piper doesn’t show up for the next three days, and since it’s just a four-day a week internship, she’s free to float through with an Owen-free weekend.
“A part of me wants to tell her brother, hell, tell Ryder or Bryson,” I say over a beer at the Black Bear Saloon. We’re seated far enough away from the bar for me to feel free to have this conversation with Jet and Rex. Jet’s a brilliant tattoo artist. He’s been tatting me up for the last few years. As soon as I hit a few extra dollars in my pocket, I made a beeline to his shop downtown. I didn’t do it for me. I did it for the women in my life, particularly the ones that pay to see me. Rex, I met through him. They grew up together, which strikes me as odd since Jet comes from the dicey side of the tracks and Rex has led as pampered a life as I had once. Rex is the quarterback on the football team here at Briggs. He’s the golden boy, and a part of me envies how easily it all seems to come for him.
“Dude,”—Rex pinches at his eyes—“it’s probably not you she’s running from. Look, you need that internship. Don’t rock the boat. If she doesn’t come back, that’s on her. You haven’t done a thing wrong.”
“You saved her ass.” Jet tips his beer to make the point. “She was ungrateful.”
“True.” Rex nods with a bounce. “Don’t think about her. She’s too much to deal with right now. You’ve got upper division classes coming up and, believe me, they are geared to kick your ass in the right way. This isn’t going to be easy. This is hardcore shit. You going to be okay working late nights?”
“I can swing it. Community college wasn’t a walk in the park either, but I somehow managed both.” Only Jet and Rex know what I truly do. The rest of the population knows me as a myriad of things related to my side business as the wingman of love, the matchmaker, the hook-up artist, and the breakupanator. I happen to take a likening to that last moniker since breakups are my specialty. If a guy approaches me with a couple hundred green dollars, I can make just about anything happen for him, with the exception of closing the deal. That’s up to him and his dick. I can lead a beautiful filly to water, but I can’t make her drink. I’ve done it all—landed the school nerd on a date with a cheerleader, wrote a hundred breakup texts, emails, scripts. You name the media, I’ve used its powers to stage a heart-wrenching goodbye, leaving the other party wishing she could keep her man for just another day. I specialize in letting them down easy, thus avoiding the usual catastrophe that follows. And most of those who utilize my services become repeat customers.
“Take a look around, boys. Point and click. I’ll make sure the choicest queen is yours for the night. Don’t worry about showing me the money. This one is on the house.” I lean back and soak in the estrogen-based scene as the tiny bar floods with beautiful women. One thing that has Hollow Brook Community College pegged to the wall is WB’s plethora of the hottest girls on the planet.
Jet and Rex are right. I need to reset my focus. Let Piper worry about Piper. My stomach churns as the thought bounces through my mind.
“Dude,”—Jet gives a light sock to my arm—“I’m not desperate to get laid. I’ve got girls lining up outside my shop paying to lie on my bed.”
“That’s because they’re getting tattoos,” I’m quick to point out.
“That might be, but that’s not the bed I’m talking about.”
“All right.” I click my bottle to the one Rex is holding. “How about you?”
“I’ve got a dozen cheerleaders from both our team and next week’s opponent sending me their seductive selfies.” He pulls out his phone and scrolls through an amusing amount of provocative pictures.
“I didn’t know WB sold school-licensed lingerie.” I nod approvingly. “Very educational.”
A large group of people file in, mostly girls, and the three of us look up like hungry dogs.
Almost every single one of them, scratch that, every single one of them has their hair up in a ponytail, bright red lipstick smeared over their mouths, and a string of signature pearls that can only mean one thing—Aubree’s girls. That’s what they’ll always be to me. She lived and breathed that sorority—still does, even though they’ve clearly turned their back on her. Not one person has ever called or visited her, but then, I can’t say I blame them. Aubree used to be their queen, with hundreds of girls bowing down to kiss her proverbial shoes, and now she’s a pariah, more alone than she could have ever imagined. My heart breaks for her, and yet it sickens me that she took someone’s life. Her name was Stephanie Jones. She was Bryson’s best friend. I shake my head because it was Bryson’s now-wife that Aubree targeted last. She had a sick obsession with the guy. But he wasn’t interested, and she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
A gorgeous brunette catches my eye, and my stomach does a revolution. Piper. Her hair is up in the requisite ponytail. Her lips shine a delicious shade of cherry. No pearls, though. I suppose that’s the goal. She’s already talking to the douchebag that’s probably going to swallow my father’s hedge fund one day before he does time for the crime, and I scowl at him. Winston. What the hell kind of name is that? It makes me sick to watch Piper throwing herself at the idiot just to get the approval of that fucked-up sorority.
“What’s got your panties in a twist, sweetheart?” Jet struggles to follow my gaze.
“That’s her, three o’clock. That’s the dick she’s supposed to bag and tag as her own if she wants a bed in that insane asylum.”
“Oh, shit.” Rex shakes his head, laughing to himself.
“You know him?” I lean in, suddenly interested in where this might lead. I knew this guy was an asshole from the get-go.
“It’s you that I know, Owen. I wondered why you went on and on about her like some thirteen-year-old love-struck girl. She’s beautiful. Your dick is leading the way.” He offers a conciliatory pat on the back. “Face it. You’re too far gone to come back now.”
“No, no, no—not true. She’s the boss’s sister. Boss’s sisters are a hell no. Plus, she has an attitude. I’m all for a good time, but not with someone like that. I like them sweet, mewling in my ear like a kitten. That girl is all bark, and trust me—she’s got the fangs to back it up. Her brother was the first to admit it. There’s no way in hell I want a piece of that action.”
“No way in hell, huh?” Jet plunks down his beer. “I think what we have here is a classic case of duck-and-evade to save face.”
“Meaning?” I’m not amused with the mutiny the boys are providing. These two fools had my back when my own family kicked me to the curb, and tonight they’re relishing in the misgiving that I want that little girl running around in high heels pretending to be a vixen so she can land herself the valedictorian of the accounting department.
“Meaning you’re into her, but you’re afraid she’s not into you. This might just be the first girl to hand you your walking papers, and we get it. It sucks hairy balls. I know it. Rex knows it. Unlike you, we’ve both suffered rejection on occasion.”
“Speak for yourself.” Rex gives a shit-eating grin.
“It’s true.” Jet flips off Rex. “Face it, Owen. This girl is in the process of delivering a blow to your ego, and once you realize what’s happened, it’s going to feel like a nuke just melted your balls together. Just deal with it now. You’re into her. She’s not into you. It’s easy mat
h with a shitty outcome. Welcome to the Lonely Hearts Club, my man.” He lands his meaty paw over my shoulder, and I bump him right off.
“It’s not true. I’m not into her,” I’m quick to refute, but there’s a hot stab in my gut that contests my words.
“Okay, here’s the deal.” Jet plucks out that thick wad of green he keeps handy. Most of his clients pay in cash, which allows him the illegal privilege to report half of his income to Uncle Sam and literally pocket the rest. “You land Miss Priss in your bed tonight, and I’ll give you a thousand bucks. How’s that for a company bonus?” He muses. Both he and Rex were pretty impressed that Ryder’s start-up was willing to pony up so much for each new corporate account.
My gut cinches at the thought of thrusting into that gorgeous body, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight to flush out the image. “No way.”
Rex leans back, displeased. “That just proves my point. The Owen we know and love would have jumped at landing both a beautiful woman in his bed, and a beautiful grand in his wallet. If you don’t want to bang her on night one, you’re thinking too highly of her because you care.”
“Two thousand.” Jet leans in as the three of us inspect her.
“No.” This entire conversation is starting to irritate me. “Not for one, not for two. There’s no number high enough. And, trust me, I’m not upholding her virtue. She’s a fucking shrew. She’d chew my balls up and spit them out before I knew what happened. And I happen to be emotionally and physically attached my hairy ball sack, so the answer will always be no.”
“Okay, then I’m fucking her.” Rex knuckle bumps Jet. “Five hundred bucks says I’m pumping into her by midnight.”
“Would you stop?” I smack the shit out of their joyous high fives. “Nobody is pumping into her by midnight.”
Rex tilts his head with that disbelieving look again. “Admit that you have a thing for her, and I’ll lay off the Ice Princess for now.”
[The Social Experiment 01.0] The Social Experiment Page 29