by Lyla Payne
Audra has changed me in a very slight way, though, because I’m sitting here considering what it would be like to love her. Wondering if part of me already does, or knows it could, and if it came alive with recognition the first time we kissed at that party.
My phone rings and the caller ID displays Logan’s name again. Our encounter cowed him for a while, but as I suspected, not forever. He’s becoming a real pain in my ass, which is something that I don’t have to tolerate.
I decline the call, thinking that I just might know what to get my new fiancée as an engagement gift.
The house is hopping for eight thirty on a weeknight, but it’s probably our turn to host the after-bar. The frats on campus rotate who hosts the party when the bars kick everyone out at two, and how good the turnout is reflects the house’s status. SEA is one of the top two, which means this place is going to be packed after midnight even if it is a Monday. I’m changing my mind about sleeping here, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get a couple of things done while it’s still relatively quiet.
The first thing I do is hunt down one of our pledges, a sneaky little weasel named Baxter who has been of particular use to me in the past. He’s in the kitchen rolling kegs into place near the sink, sweat dripping from his thick, dark hair onto his forehead.
The sly expectation that leaps into his eyes at the sight of me gives me a thrill of satisfaction. I might have started really changing because of Audra instead of just pretending to, but the pledges still fear me. It feels right.
“I need you to do something for me,” I say by way of greeting.
He uses a stupid wristband to wipe his face after settling the last metal keg into place. “What’s up?”
“We’re going to get Logan Walters kicked out of Whitman.”
“What? Why?” Confusion muddles his sharp gaze, probably because we spent most of last year helping Logan run his juvenile but profitable schemes.
“You don’t need to know why. We need proof that he’s using the school network to earn illegal—or at the least questionable—funds, and it wouldn’t hurt if we could trump up some charges of cheating, too.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard. Give me a couple of days. Anonymous report to the chancellor’s office?” Baxter stops wondering why about five seconds into the conversation and starts figuring out how to execute, which is what makes him a valuable minion.
That, and the fact that he has absolutely no moral standards and about half a brain.
“That should do, but if we can get a TA to corroborate the story and report it in person that will mean a faster expulsion.” Something occurs to me on my way out of the room and I turn back, frowning at the mud he’s tracking all over the floor. “Don’t bring up the voyeur site I set him up with last semester.”
The look on his face says he knows the answer to why on this one but he has the good sense not to bring up Audra and me. “Sure thing, boss. He’s done plenty of other shady shit.”
I leave the kitchen with a bad taste in my mouth, because I’m the one who helped him carry out most of that shady shit. Getting to know the real Audra forced me to admit that she didn’t deserve what we did to her, leaving me with the sneaking suspicion that the other people we screwed over probably didn’t either.
The thought kicks me in the stomach. It makes me mad because I don’t have time to question every decision I’ve ever made. This is about moving forward, and if my career path works out the way I’m hoping, my scheming days are far from over. It has made me realize there are real people on the other ends, though, and maybe more discretion would be advisable in the future.
This should take care of Logan, but the fact that he said he has the originals of those files still bothers me. Chances are he’s not smart enough or connected enough to do anything with them once he’s away from Whitman, but it’s a thread. I don’t like to leave loose ones.
“Whoa, where’s your head, Blair?” Toby Wright wraps a strong hand around my shoulders to keep us from crashing into each other in the living area.
He’s wearing letters and khaki pants even though there’s no meeting scheduled tonight and the house is about to descend into debauchery, something he avoids these days. The front door hangs open and Kennedy loiters on the porch, so they’re obviously not planning on staying.
“Sorry, man. It’s been kind of a crazy night. What are you doing here?”
“Dropping off some forms that need to be signed before the hula night party next month.” He glances back over his shoulder at his girlfriend, who doesn’t appear to notice. No doubt she’s listening, though. “What about you?”
“I was going to start the proposal for the pub crawl event but I forgot we have after-bars, so I’m leaving.” I glance at Kennedy again, a plan forming in the back of my mind. It doesn’t matter if they know now or later, and being the one to announce the engagement to Toby might go a long way toward my goal. “I was wondering if I could talk to you about something real quick.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I’m graduating in a few months and am hoping to start a career in politics instead of working for my dad—or not working for him, according to him.” I swallow, having trouble finding the words to explain what happened earlier tonight. “I’ve been making some changes in my life and tonight Audra and I got engaged.”
His eyes bug out so far it literally looks like they might roll out of his head. Kennedy whirls on the porch, her face white as she gives up pretending that she’s not listening. It takes several moments for him to close his mouth, and Kennedy wanders over, watching me with a mixture of suspicion and disbelief.
I should probably go ahead and acclimate to that expression.
“It’s a surprise, I know, but it’s one more reason that having a job after graduation is important to me. I don’t want to start out depending on Teddy for anything.” I push on, since the two of them still haven’t managed to form a single syllable. “I was wondering if you might talk to your dad for me, see if he’s going to be interviewing for staff members anytime soon and if he’d at least put me on the list for an interview if he is.”
Toby eyes me with far less suspicion than his pretty girlfriend, but twice as much curiosity. He sticks out a hand, shaking his head like he’s trying to force the world to make sense again. “Wow, man, congratulations. This is insane! Not one person on this whole campus would guess you’d be tying the knot right after graduation.”
“Especially not with someone like Audra,” Kennedy adds, still not smiling or offering her own well wishes.
It’s annoying but hard to blame her, given her friendship with my girlfriend.
“Thank you. It will most likely be a long engagement, given that Audra still has a couple years of school left and we don’t want to get in the way of her finishing.”
Relief crisscrosses Kennedy’s freckled face. At least my news won’t cause her to drink tonight. It almost makes me laugh, her expression of hope—she’s thinking now Audra has enough time to change her mind. Which, even though that’s exactly what we discussed before I dropped her off, tightens my throat.
It’s as though some part of me wants to prove to them that this could work, that Audra loves me enough to marry my fucked-up self, even though I know neither of those things are the truth. Which is stupid. Audra takes every opportunity to remind me that there’s an end date to our little ruse. No reason to believe she’s thinking beyond that even if things are … different between us.
“I’ll talk to my dad, of course,” Toby forges on. “There’s no harm in him interviewing you, and if I’m being honest, you’d be a fantastic fit for anyone’s staff.”
“Liars and Washington go together like milk and cookies,” Kennedy chips in, her tone dry and her brow still furrowed. “Neither of those things go with Audra Stuart, though.”
“Strawberry …” Toby warns, taking her hand and pulling her close. They exchange a look that’s an entire conversation in itself. It leaves me wondering how long it will
be until the two of them get married.
For real.
My anger spikes over her attitude but I swallow a snotty retort, knowing that snapping at Toby’s girlfriend would unravel everything that I just managed to stitch together. And it’s nice to know Audra has good friends. Other people seem to need those.
I realize that I know something about Audra that Kennedy doesn’t, and my chest swells. “Actually, one of them might, because Audra’s interested in law school. I think she’d be a great politician. Or a judge. If she decides to go that direction.”
Kennedy’s light eyebrows arch. “Really? Because last I heard she hadn’t taken any courses that aren’t required.”
“She’s been thinking about it but this whole Kappa election thing is convincing her that it’s something she could be good at, I think.”
Silence falls, Toby’s hand wrapped tight around Kennedy’s, keeping her quiet. He seems to have run out of things to add to this conversation, and I’m thinking it’s time to get while the getting’s good—I’m feeling a little bit euphoric, as though I really did get engaged and land an important job interview on the same day.
“Thank you, Toby, for talking to your dad. I’m afraid I have some errands to run.” I nod toward Kennedy. “Nice to see you, as always.”
She rolls her eyes and Toby shakes his head, giving me another stunned smile. “Congrats again, man.”
“Thank you. If you could keep a lid on this for a day or so, until Audra talks to her family, I’d really appreciate it.”
Chapter Nineteen
Audra
The minute the election results come in the only thing on my mind is how soon I can call Sebastian to relay the good news. In a way, the victory belongs as much to him as to me, because the girls not only loved my speech, but stopped me in the halls the past couple of days to gush over how excited they are about my vision for the future. It’s thrilling, to be part of my friends’ excitement over being Kappas again, a feeling that’s been on a downward spiral since we were all so pumped over pledging.
Well-wishing, squealing, and hugs force me to wait another half hour, but the new president can’t exactly run out on the girls who just put her in office, so I do my best to revel with them. It’s hard to believe. For some reason, being able to tell Sebastian feels like the thing that will make it feel real.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” Blair steps in front of me as I make my escape into the hall, her dark eyes flashing and her arms folded over her chest.
“Such as?”
She drags me onto the front porch, letting the door flop closed behind us even though neither one of us has our key. “Like that you’re engaged to Sebastian fucking Blair?”
In all the excitement I’d almost forgotten about the trouble my word vomit had gotten me into. I’d texted my brothers and asked them to please refrain from sharing my happy news until I had a chance to talk to our parents and give them a heads-up and, silly me, I’d figured Sebastian wasn’t going to be putting up billboards.
Wrong, apparently, because Blair somehow knows.
I shoot a glance behind me and then scan the parking lot before pulling her over to the shadows, away from the front windows. “Shh. It’s not real. We were at dinner with my brothers and they were being such assholes to Sebastian after he’d had a horrible week and I couldn’t take it. I lost it and just blurted out that I guess they would have to believe us because we’re getting married.”
Tears clog my throat at the memory of my rash move. It did the trick as far as my brothers buying the relationship, but it damaged our sibling bond in a way that I can only hope is able to be repaired in time. It didn’t hurt it as badly as them seeing me naked and fucking Logan the Douche all over the internet would.
At least that’s what I’m telling myself.
“What the hell is the matter with you, A? An engagement? I mean, sure, if people suspect Sebastian has something on you that forced you into this relationship they’ll have a harder time believing you could have done anything terrible enough to warrant this.” She bites her lip. “So in that way, it’s brilliant. But how are you going to keep this up for two more months? Are we supposed to go dress shopping now?”
“Why, do you want to be my maid of honor?”
“Don’t even joke about that. I would obviously be your maid of honor.”
We smile but it’s short-lived because yeah, I’ve made a total mess of what should have been a pretty simple assignment. I should have just let my brothers think what they wanted and let Sebastian take care of himself. It’s four months of my life followed by an orchestrated breakup, so why they hell did I have to open my big mouth?
Blair slings an arm around my shoulders. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re an idiot, but you’re my idiot, and when you’re running a con immersion is the way to go. Just make sure and leave yourself a back exit.”
I finally get changed and throw some stuff in a bag to spend the night at Sebastian’s. Now that Blair interrupted my desperation to call him with a conversation about my insanity, I decided it’s going to be more fun to watch his face when I tell him that I won the election. It’s strange, wanting to share this with him and feeling sure of his reaction, because nothing about Sebastian is ever predictable.
Except he has been, with me. He’s been consistently on my side. Tuned in to my desires, in bed and out, and the thought of spending the night away from him when we could spend it together doesn’t even cross my mind. This not-quite-real relationship we’re staging makes me happy. Makes me feel like me.
He’s alone at the beach house, bare feet propped up on the deck’s railing as he stares out toward the ocean. I stop and study him before he turns and sees me, mesmerized by the perfect way the ocean breeze ruffles his thick blonde hair, by the sturdy outline of his frame. The sound of the ocean crashing in the distance adds a soothing soundtrack even though it’s too dark to see the waves and clouds obscure the moon and stars.
The damned door was unlocked again, which would freak me out if I were here alone, but the nights I’ve spent here with Sebastian I’ve felt safe. It doesn’t seem as though anything could really hurt me while he’s close … except Sebastian himself. Which is a problem.
His shoulders tense the moment he senses my presence but he doesn’t turn around right away. This time he’s smiling before he sees me, as though he’s somehow found a way to distinguish my arrivals from Quinn’s, and for some reason the idea that I’m the only girl wandering in and out of this house to see him makes my heart skip a few beats.
“Good evening.” He climbs to his feet, and it’s odd seeing him without shoes and socks on, dressed in an undershirt and dress pants, no shirt or tie in sight. “Would you like a drink?”
I can’t help but grin at the magic threading through this moment. “I would.”
He heads inside, leaving the door open to the patio, and ducks behind the wet bar in the family room. “Whiskey?”
“And ginger ale?”
Sebastian busies himself and I love that he hasn’t asked why I’m here—as though maybe I don’t need a reason. All of this seems natural, as though I walk through the door to find him at ease every night, and he fixes us drinks so we can talk about our day.
It’s lodging thoughts in my brain. Curiosity about whether a life like the one I’ve told my brothers the two of us plan to have would be a thing that could work. That would make us happy.
Ridiculous.
Sebastian Blair isn’t the kind of guy who could be satisfied by vanilla little me, and for all the feelings and strength that he’s given me over the past month, he’s not a guy who would be easy to trust.
At least not with my heart.
I trust him with my body because he’s proven that he’s very interested in making good things happen in that department. I’d trust him with my future, I think, because the way he’s working so hard to be responsible for his mother is glaring evidence that he’s got a good heart underneat
h the layers of … whatever he’s put on over the years to protect his little-boy soul.
But sex is sex, no matter how good, and futures can be changed and rearranged and started from scratch. I only have one heart and I’ve never given it away to anyone.
“You want to sit outside?” he asks, unaware of the storm raging in my brain as he slips the drink into my hand and leans in to peck my cheek.
Even though there’s no audience. What is happening?
“Sure.”
He returns to the same chair I found him in earlier and I take the one next to him, kicking off my shoes and wiggling my toes on the sandy wooden planks. The night is cool, but I wore a sweater over my dress and the breeze feels nice on my bare legs.
I take a gulp of sweet whiskey and ginger ale, then another, before setting the glass on the small table to my left and sucking a deep breath in through my nose. The smile won’t vacate my face no matter how many times I think there’s no reason to be so stupid happy right now.
“I won the election.” I sneak a glance at Sebastian and watch a slow smile stretch his lips.
It’s not a squeal, he doesn’t exclaim, but it’s perfectly him.
“I knew you would.” He looks at me, the pride and confidence in his dark eyes filling me up to the brim. “It wasn’t even close, I bet.”
“I don’t know. They don’t tell us stuff like that.”
“You’re the president now, so I’m sure you can find out if you want to.” The light in his eyes, teasing at first, grows hungry as they rake across my face and to my cleavage.
“I think I’ll leave well enough alone.” I drain the rest of my drink, hot all over. “How was your day?”
He snorts. “Are you practicing for our fake marriage?”