Billionaire's Bet: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #12)

by Claire Adams

Chapter Six

  For a day or two, I had no time to get back to Zack; in spite of the fact that I wanted nothing more than to be with him again, I still had the presence of mind to put my studies first. I sent Zack a few texts — teasing him, and getting teased in return — but I couldn’t make any definite plans until I knew I had all of my work done. I wanted to see him again, but I wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting my grades tank because I’d gone sex-crazed with a guy. I was also still nervous about the reaction from his teammates. Was the one who’d talked to me the only one who was worried about Zack being distracted, or was it something the whole team was on board with? And had they noticed Zack was apparently more distracted without me?

  It was Wednesday morning when I woke up; I was already thinking of how I would hit Zack up to go to dinner somewhere off campus, maybe bring him back to my dorm to spend the night. I still had prejudices against this frat house — if he had to stay there for whatever reason, I would go to him there, but if I could have him to myself in my room, I wanted that a lot more. I got up and decided to wake up gradually, about an hour or so earlier than my usual wake-up time.

  I was sitting in the common area of the dorm when Jess came in, eyes wide and face set in shock. I was watching one of the early-morning shows, drinking a cold coffee in my pajamas, and Jess made a beeline to me.

  “Shit, Evie — have you seen this?” She brandished a newspaper and I furrowed my brow.

  “What, did something come out in the school rag?”

  Jess shook her head. “This isn’t the campus paper,” she said, straightening it and showing me the banner.

  It was the Tribune, distributed throughout the state, though it was mostly local. Jess unfolded the newspaper. On the front page, a huge headline read, Up and Coming QB May Be Suspended for Partying Too Hard. My gaze moved down and I saw a picture of Zack, obviously at a party at his frat. He was wearing a toga and had a beer in each hand, streams of the drinks flowing into his mouth from both sides. There was a girl in the picture with him, grinding up against him with a huge grin on her face.

  For a long moment, I couldn’t do anything but stare at the picture, shocked at what I was seeing. I finally snatched the paper out of Jess’ hands and began to read. “The quarterback’s partying ways, as a member of the notorious Phi Alpha Kappa fraternity, recently came to light to the administration as well as the coaching staff at the university.” The article went on to describe the different highlights — or maybe they were lowlights — of the frat’s history on campus, and opined that it was a foregone conclusion that Zack would be lost to partying ways once he’d joined as a freshman. “Of course, the kind of behavior that a second-string quarterback is able to get away with is impossible for a starting quarterback for a school that will be going on to nationals.” The article concluded with speculation as to whether suspending Zack would force the school to forfeit at the finals, whether or not the first string QB was going to be able to take up his mantle again, or whether there would be a backup quarterback who could be brought in. “It is certainly a shame to see a promising college ball career marred — potentially ended — by the bad choices of a student.”

  I shook my head; his coaches would have had to have known that Zack was partying. Of course, with pictures of potentially underage drinking coming out, I could see why they were worried — and why they might suspend him, even if it cost us the big national championship. They had to at least look like they were being tough on underage drinking and too much partying. But my eyes went back to the picture and I felt my concern for Zack dissolve in a bitter thought. That girl, grinding on him, grinning like she was absolutely certain that she’d be getting him alone in next to no time. Zack had told me he couldn’t think about anyone but me — he had humiliated himself, and me, to demonstrate he had feelings for me. What the hell was he doing letting some girl grind up on him, practically rubbing his toga off, if that was the case?

  SLAMMED #4

  Chapter One

  For what felt like a long time, I stared at the newspaper Jess had given me, looking at the picture as my stomach churned. I’d had no idea the morning was going to bring anything like this. My mind swirled around, alternating between fear and worry for Zack’s position — the possibility that he might be suspended from the team — and growing anger at the sight of a woman grinding up on him. The alcohol didn’t bother me in the slightest; I knew Zack had started drinking before he even came to college, and the whole point of the frat he belonged to was to party as much as humanly possible.

  “I don’t understand,” I said finally, looking from the paper to Jess. “I mean, I really just don’t understand.”

  Jess sat down heavily, shrugging. “The school has to look like they’ll only tolerate a certain level of partying, and someone I guess turned Zack in.”

  “But…” I shook my head, staring at the picture once more. Had I seen the girl before? Was she one of the girls that seemed to always be around Zack? Had he slept with her? When was the picture from — it had to have been recent to have been included in the article. “Who the hell is that and what is Zack doing letting her be all over him like that?”

  Jess shrugged again. “I’d seen Zack around a few times before, and I mean, he’s sort of always been like that — wild, partying, hitting up whatever girl would pay him the least bit of attention. I mean, until you showed up, at least.”

  I bit my bottom lip and put the newspaper down. I felt hot and cold all at once, my heart pounding in my chest, my head already starting to ache. Zack had been like this before I came back into the picture. He fooled around with girls, let them grind up on him — well, in fairness, I thought, he and I danced just like that the first time he saw me in years; why should I be surprised? I shouldn’t. But it still hurt; especially since I had no idea if the picture was from long before I had come back into his life or if it was from earlier in the night during the party I’d gone to find him at. I couldn’t think straight — my head was spinning.

  “Do you think I made a huge mistake getting back into his life?” I asked Jess. “I mean, that’s not the kind of person I am — do you think…do you think that’s the kind of girl he wants?”

  Jess shook her head. “He knows what kind of girl you are and he clearly wants you. What are you so upset about, Evie?”

  I swallowed against the tightness I could feel growing steadily worse in my throat. “I’m upset at the sight of the guy I like being dry-humped by some girl!” I said, standing up and pacing across the living room floor. “I mean, yeah, sure, whatever, double-fisting beers is an old hat trick, I’ve seen him doing that before. It’s not news. But what if he’s doing this…what if he’s still going after any girl who’ll pay attention to him?”

  I thought of seeing him in the dining hall line with his arm around a girl, just a couple of days after we’d had sex for the first time in years. I thought of him telling me it was just sex.

  But he’d acted differently since, hadn’t he? He’d asked me out on a proper date, he’d declared he was hung up on me in front of everyone. I’d been humiliated by the way he acted, but he was just showing off, just trying to get my attention. If he was really serious about having a relationship with me I could forgive him for what he’d done. But if he was dancing and flirting with other girls while keeping me on the line as a steady lay — if all I was to him was a reliable piece of ass — then I couldn’t stand that.

  “Is that what you think is happening?” Jess asked me.

  I shrugged, throwing my arms out wildly. “I have no fucking clue!” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to decide what I thought. “I just…he’s right there, some slut grabbing on him, and they probably slept together, and I don’t know whether it was from months ago or last year or last week!”

  “Last week, if it was then, you were freezing him out.”

  “What if it was the night of the party? What if he was grinding on that girl and hooked up with her and then got rid of her before I
got there to talk to him.”

  “Busy guy, then,” Jess said, smiling faintly.

  “This isn’t funny, Jess!” Jess’ smile fell and she nodded. “On top of all that he might be getting suspended from the football team, and I don’t know how to feel about that…” I threw myself down on the couch. “What do I do, Jess? This is just…I can’t even handle everything going on in my brain right now.”

  “First, take a chill pill. If Zack gets suspended from the team, then I sure as hell hope they have a backup plan because I can’t think of any way they’ll manage in the championship without him.” Jess paused a moment to think before continuing. “As for the rest of it, I mean, are you really not okay with him drinking and partying? You’re worried about the kind of girl he wants you to be — but are you okay with the kind of guy he is?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “If he’s the kind of guy — still — who would let girls get all up on him and rub up against him even if he’s with someone…with me…then no. But I don’t know.”

  “You need to figure out what kind of guy he is, and you need to figure out if you’re okay with the kind of guy he is. I mean it. I can see you’re serious about him, but if he isn’t serious about you, you’re never going to be okay with that.” I nodded. “So figure it out, Evie, and do what makes sense from there.” Jess stood up, stretching. “Try and get some breakfast in your system before class.”

  I went into my room, still shaking with anger and upset. I should change out of my pajamas and get to the dining hall, get ready for the rest of my day. I should just put the picture I saw and the article I read completely out of my mind until I could talk to Zack about it. But my heart was pounding in my chest and I couldn’t take my mind off of the picture. I couldn’t stop thinking about the lurid details that the article had featured, the highlights of the frat’s history. “In 2004, the fraternity was the subject of a long investigation by the administration when an early-admission student, aged 15, told her parents she had sex with one of the members of the frat…In 2010, the frat was once more temporarily suspended pending the verdict in allegations of underage drinking and public lewdness, with several students alleging that public sex occurred during at least one party…” Zack hadn’t been a member of the frat for the worst of the infractions, but the frat’s reputation lent itself well to encouraging someone like Zack to do whatever he wanted.

  I pulled at my hair, groaning as I buried my face against my mattress. The thought of seeing Zack with another girl — both the way I had in real life, just a few short days after we first reunited and then in the picture — made me angrier and angrier. I couldn’t put it out of my mind; it was impossible. I stood up and took a deep breath. I would have to actually confront him about it. There was just no two ways about it. I had to do it before I could psych myself out, before I had a chance to make myself miserable during my morning classes dwelling on it.

  I strode out of my room, stepping into a pair of slip-on shoes and grabbing up the newspaper Jess brought in from the coffee table where I’d let it fall. I made sure to grab my keys and card so I wouldn’t be locked out of the dorms, but I didn’t make time or take time for anything else. As I walked down the hall to the stairwell, I considered where I could actually find Zack. It was early enough in the morning my first thought was that he would be at the frat house, still asleep. But then I corrected myself; Zack told me about his training routine in our interview together. He and the team would be in the school gym, in the weight room, working out.

  I walked across campus, ignoring the chill in the air that cut through my pajamas and barely looking around me. It was early enough in the day that there weren’t very many people up and about; there was no one to see how upset I was at the whole situation. I caught sight of a few people rushing to early-morning classes in their pajamas, or heading for the dining hall, but anyone who was out of the dorms and the frats that early in the morning was focused entirely on themselves. As I walked I got more and more upset; how could Zack have led me on, if this was the kind of playing around he did? He and I — I thought — had something special. The words from one of his frat brothers, the first night we had seen each other since we’d broken up in high school, filled my head. Zack was one of those guys, the kind I started to avoid. All I was to him was a piece of ass — and that’s all I was to his frat brothers; another one of Zack’s conquests.

  It was easy to get into the gym; the card that let me into the dorm building was just as effective on the locked doors in the rec center. As soon as I got into the nearly-vacant building, I could hear the hard workouts going on in the weight room. The entire team would be there. For just a moment I checked, remembering just how much I hated making a public spectacle of myself — and how much I hated Zack for making me a public spectacle the two times he’d done it. But I knew I couldn’t wait. If I waited and let myself cool off, I’d accept any explanation from Zack and never get to the bottom of the situation. I plunged into the weight room and looked around.

  It wasn’t just the football team on the machines and using the free weights; the basketball team was also in the room, going through their own paces — some of them on treadmills, some of them on bikes, most of them lifting weights heavy enough to daunt me. I moved through the room as quickly as possible, ignoring the eddying pause of conversation all around me as I looked around for Zack. He was lying on a bench, a heavy weight hooked on a bar over him, getting ready to do presses.

  “Zack!” I called out, intending only to get his attention before he started; but my voice was shriller, sharper than I wanted it to be. Zack started, pulling his hands back from the barbell as if it was hot. Looking around, he spotted me and grinned.

  “Hey, Evie,” he said, slipping out from underneath the bar and standing up quickly. “I can’t really talk now — but I can hit you up right after class.”

  I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest. I could feel everyone looking at us, but I couldn’t make myself stop long enough to calm down and think about the best way to do what I needed to do.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked, waving the newspaper in front of his face. Zack grabbed at it, looking at the picture and article. He went red, and then white.

  “This is just some bullshit about them wanting to suspend me, it’s no big deal, Evie—”

  I let out a little shriek. “I don’t care about that! If you get suspended it’s your own fucking fault!” I pointed at the picture hard enough to almost rip the paper. “That. That. What is it?”

  Zack looked at the picture and frowned. “Evie, this is from a long time ago, I don’t even know…”

  I closed my eyes. I was shaking with rage, my eyes stinging with tears that I couldn’t let myself shed in front of half the school’s athletics department.

  “You don’t even know who she is, do you? Do you even care? Is that all I am to you, too — just another girl to grab and fool around with?” Zack’s face got redder and redder and I saw him looking around at his teammates, at the members of the basketball team watching avidly.

  “That’s not what I was going to say and you know it,” Zack said, his voice dropping low. “I don’t know who took this picture, but it’s from forever ago.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t believe you. I thought you were different! I thought you gave a damn — I thought…” I shook my head again. “You’re just a stupid asshole like every other guy I’ve ever dated. Well, I hope you enjoyed it, because I’m not going to be your piece of ass anymore.”

  I turned around quickly. My heart was pounding and my eyes were burning, and all I could think of was getting out of there before someone saw me breaking into tears. I hurried out of the weight room and through the rec center, swallowing down the tightness in my throat and trying to keep my trembling to myself.

  I nearly ran across campus, slowing down only when I started to get a stitch in my side, avoiding looking at anyone that might be around as the tears started falling from my eyes before I go
t to the safety of my room. I couldn’t believe that I had actually thought Zack thought I was special, that I let myself get suckered into falling for another guy who was just going to take whatever piece of tail came his way without any concern at all for my feelings. My hands shook as I tried to swipe my card to get into the building; it took me three tries before I was finally able to get the reader to scan my card properly.

  I stepped onto the elevator and hit the door close button over and over again; the last thing I wanted was to have to deal with someone riding with me, watching me as I tried to hold myself together. I sagged against the wall of the elevator, against the railing, shuddering and still angry, still hurt. I tried stalling the tears that were already starting to spill out of my eyes. When the elevator finally managed to make it up to my floor, I hurried off, toward my room, not even bothering to tell Jess what I’d done or that I was back — she’d hear the door. I threw myself onto my bed and gave into the sobs that were pushing up through my chest, burying my face in my pillow. Hot tears flowed into the fabric and I shook with anger and depression, not quite wanting to scream in my frustration.

  I lost all track of time, lying there and sobbing my eyes out, punching the mattress and grabbing at the pillow I’d buried my face in. After a while it finally started to dawn on me that before I had seen the newspaper article featuring Zack, I had been waking up, getting ready to go to class. I had class to get to.

  I pulled myself up and looked at the clock; I had been crying for almost an hour, and now I only had 10 minutes to get to class, all the way across campus. I had no time to get dressed. I sighed, grabbing up my backpack and shoving my journalism textbooks into it. At least, I thought, half the student body went to class in their pajamas, especially the morning classes; no one was likely to notice that I wasn’t fully dressed.

  I hurried across campus, trying to focus my thoughts down on the class I was going to; I missed my window for grabbing breakfast, so I would have to hope I had a little bit of time to get something to eat from one of the vending machines between morning classes or by the time lunch rolled around I would be totally useless. I hoped against hope my face wasn’t too red, that my eyes weren’t too obviously bloodshot. My little spectacle in the weight room would already be making the rounds among the campus gossipmongers — the last thing I needed was for everyone to see me cried out, panicking I wasn’t getting to class on time, and thinking the whole reason for my upset was Zack.