Contemporary Nights Volume One

by C. J. Ellisson

  For the second time, I snort into my drink. “Are you shitting me? You’re a Delta?”

  “I’m trying to be.”

  “Dude, rush week was like six months ago.”

  He shrugs and recites something they’ve clearly drilled into his brain. “Until I prove myself a Delta, I can’t be a Delta. At least they didn’t flat out tell me no.”

  It clicks. And it pisses me off. “Did they put you up to this?”

  “No. Yes. No. I mean…” He shakes his head and turns away. “Look, forget I even came over here. Clearly you’re a class above me.”

  “Hold up, shit dick.”

  He stiffens and slowly tosses me a glance over his shoulder. “What did you just call me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “What, exactly, is a shit dick?”

  “What exactly is a class above you?” I counter.

  “Look at you.” He shakes his head and adds in a quiet voice, “And look at me.”

  “H—” I can’t bring myself to call him HP. My laptop is an HP. A person is not. “What’s your full name?”

  “Harold.”

  “No, your full name.” I say it slow and he sets his jaw, clearly pissed. Too damn bad. Answer my question right the first time and I wouldn’t have to keep repeating myself. When he doesn’t say anything, I snap. “Do you have a last name?”

  “Ryan,” he answers through clenched teeth.

  “Ryan,” I repeat with a smile. He relaxes and even smiles back at me. I have to admit, I really like that cute, lopsided grin. “That’s much better than HP.”

  His eyes dance as he studies me. I’m breathless and don’t dare turn away. I like the heat that look is generating, causing my toes to curl. If he can pull that kind of reaction out of me with nothing more than a hot look, I’d love to know what power he’d have over me if he actually touched me. “Anything else you’d like to change on me before I go?”

  I chew on the inside of my lip as I try to come up with something witty. “How about your attitude?”

  Uh oh. The muscle in his jaw ticks and he’s back to being pissed. “Enjoy your night.” He spins around and marches off. I’m oddly bruised by his sudden dismissal. I’m stunned into silence for what could be the first time in my life. He passes the table and deflates as one of the jock assholes says something to him. The rest laugh. Poor Ryan slumps even lower and turns toward the door as the group of men laugh louder.

  That does it.

  I throw back my drink and then set the empty glass on the bar. I’ve got a nice buzz going and no filter from my brain to my mouth. The timing is perfect.

  They are about to find out what happens when they piss off a redhead.

  As I stand, Britt grabs my arm.

  “Where are you going?” She then bounces her attention over to the group of guys about to have their nuts handed to them. “Oh, no. Don’t do it, Em. There’s three of them.”

  “Hardly seems fair, right?” I straighten my jeans and adjust my boobs to make sure they are front-and-center, then head over to them.

  Chapter Two

  Ryan

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  I pace outside the bar as I contemplate whether to go back in or just cut my losses and go home. I came alone and fully expect I’ll leave alone. I’m used to it. I slide my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

  Why didn’t I trust my gut? I knew meeting Brad and his shadows at the bar was going to end up biting me in the ass. He may be the president of my frat house, but he’s no friend. He’s hated me since being forced to accept me into the house. I did everything right during rush and still he refused to let me in—until my father called the university. Next thing I know, I’m a Delta and moved into one of the single bedroom modular housing units clustered behind the house. BU built them when the houses weren’t big enough to hold the explosion of students after the economy bombed. They’re reserved for seniors, but that didn’t stop dear old dad from pulling a few strings.

  I sigh and shake my head. What the hell was I thinking coming here tonight? It’s a Thursday. I have to work early, have pretty much no money since I’m a starving college student, and know better than to think Brad wants to hang with me. He wants to make fun of me, to push me far enough to either do something to get kicked out of the house or finally get fed up enough to leave. Neither is going to happen. Not only would I have to move out of my mod, I’d be disowned by my father, grandfather, and older brother. They all graduated Delta and threatened me with death and dismemberment if I do anything to fuck up the legacy.

  It doesn’t matter that I’m miserable being a Delta. At pretending to be something I’m not. Deltas are jocks. Lady’s men. The life of every party. I’m not any of those things, but that didn’t stop my father from shoving being a Delta down my throat.

  “Being a Delta is all that matters,” he’d told me before I left for college and takes every opportunity to remind me of that. What I want doesn’t matter. Got to love family and their priorities, no matter how skewed.

  My thoughts land on the pretty redhead inside the bar. Those dancing hazel-green eyes mesmerize me to the point that I can’t think straight. Her hair caught the sparse lighting just right, giving her a delicious glow. Her smile is something poets write about. I had her in a few classes my freshmen year and even tried to talk to her once, but failed miserably and never tried again.

  Until tonight. I sucked just as bad tonight as I did a year ago. Why the hell can’t I talk to women? It pisses me off, which doesn’t help my situation. A person’s IQ drops, on average, thirty points when he or she is angry. Of course I’d try to justify something like this with numbers, with science. Like that made a shit bit of difference when I crashed and burned.

  Back to Emma. Yes, I know her name. She doesn’t know I do, so, until she gives it to me, I’ll keep that knowledge to myself. This year I only have the one class with her, but I get to see her every morning. I work in one of the college’s computer labs, which is also where her first class is held.

  It sucks she doesn’t even know who I am, but I get it. Not many people know who I am unless they need help on a computer issue. She’s come to the front desk several times to get her password reset. Each and every time, I hide in the break room and wait until she leaves. I’m such a coward.

  Maybe I should just go home.

  I take a step away from the building just as Emma’s friend steps out. She spots me and sighs. “You’d better get in there.”

  She doesn’t even know me, so my guard is immediately up. “Why?”

  “She’s going after your Delta brothers.”

  “She?”

  “You know who I’m talking about. Get in there and help her.”

  I stiffen as I swing my gaze inside the door Emma’s friend is holding open. There’s that crazy redhead, waltzing over to Brad and his shadows. What the hell does she think she’s doing?

  I’m about to find out as I head back inside.

  Emma

  I take my time swaying my hips and making sure each and every last one of them watch me glide over. This would have so much more effect on them if I had on one of my cute, hug-my-ass little dresses instead of my skinny jeans and guaranteed to go home alone high-cut top. At least I let Britt talk me into the fuck me pumps before we went out. I need them right now. They add four inches to my five-foot-seven height.

  I don’t slow my seductive walk until I stop right in front of the table full of Delta dicks. Folding my arms under my breasts to force them out even more, I wait until all three of them stop staring at my boobs long enough to look me in the eye. If I had on one of my low-cut tops to really show off the girls, these guys would all be goners. The one with the blazing blue eyes and short, dark hair takes his time tracing my frame with his hungry gaze before finally joining the rest of us.

  I recognize him from school. I’ve stared at him as he’s walked across the quad. Hell, every female and even several of the males have noticed him. He’s the h
ead of the Delta house and ridiculously gorgeous.

  “Hey, guys.” I bat my eyes.

  “Hey, beautiful.” He gives me a wink. I try not to vomit in my mouth. Ten minutes ago I would have let him stick his tongue down my throat. Maybe even let him take me back to his house for hookup sex. He’s definitely one-night stand material—if he weren’t such a douche by making fun of poor Ryan.

  I really shouldn’t care. It’s not my fight. But we are all BU Knighthawks and I’m channeling my inner hawk. Men like these guys need to be brought down a peg or ten. “So whose idea was it to send him over?”

  Blue Eyes grins wide. “Mine. But, now that I see you up close, I think you’re more my style, not HP’s.”

  “Is that so?” I tap into my husky, sexy voice. Or at least I think it’s my husky, sexy voice. I just hope it doesn’t sound like I smoke two packs a day.

  “Oh, yeah. I have a thing for redheads. What say you and I get a private little booth for two and get to know each other better? Bring your pretty friend over there. I’m sure my friends wouldn’t mind keeping her company.”

  Oh, please. I stop myself from rolling my eyes. “What’s your name?”

  “Brad.”

  Bad sign. Guys named Brad are historically and categorically giant asshats.

  “Well, Brad. I can’t even begin to tell you what I think about getting a private little booth with you.”

  His smile falters as he contemplates the meaning behind my statement. “Is that a yes?”

  “Uh, no.”

  “No, that isn’t a yes? Or no, you don’t want to?”

  I frown. “Is English your second language?”

  He loses his smile as the two others laugh. And then he turns into the Delta dick he is and attacks. “Listen, sweetheart. I actually had my eye on your friend there. That’s why I sent HP as my wingman to get you out of the way. There’s no need to pull the bitch card. You’re not even that hot.”

  Ouch. I so want to take off one of my shoes and stab him in the eye with the heel. “And one has to do with the other?”

  “Yeah. The hotter you are, the bigger the bitch. Deltas grant allowances based on the hotness scale. If you’re under a five, you aren’t even allowed back in the house. You, sweetheart, barely qualify.”

  I hate that my stomach flips over the fact I still qualify as a Delta groupie. Only the hottest girls are even invited to the Delta’s epic parties. If I take this much further, Brad and his frat brothers will make sure I’m banned for life. Not only are their parties reserved for Greeks, but they have to be upper class Greeks unless invited by a Delta. As a sophomore and not living on Greek Row, I don’t qualify as either. I debate stopping now before it’s too late.

  But then my fucking silver tongue engages before my brain can stop it. “You don’t think I’m hot enough to get with a Delta?”

  “Don’t hate the player, baby. Hate the game.” He shrugs and lifts his hands. His buddies snicker.

  I fight dropping my jaw at his arrogance and struggle to find something to say that won’t make me sound like a complete moron. “How about you do me a favor?”

  “Depends. Does it involve us taking off our clothes?”

  God, this guy was such a fucktard. “The next time you see Ryan, tell him he walked away from what could have been the best night of his life.”

  All three guys still as their expressions melt from their faces. I can’t stop from feeling a little smug at their reactions.

  Brad blinks out of it first. “Ryan?”

  “He’s so much more than HP to me.”

  “Wait. You’re telling me that you were actually going to leave the bar with him?”

  “He broke my heart when he said no. Sadly, there’s nothing I can do about that now but to have you fine gentlemen relay the message.” That should do it. I have no intention of going home with the nerd or any of these Delta dicks. What does it hurt to have them think Ryan didn’t strike out?

  “Why not tell him yourself?”

  I bristle and thrust out my chin. “And how would I do that?”

  “He’s standing right behind you.”

  Oh shit.

  My heart now firmly planted in my throat, I whip around to be face-to-face with him. He’s taller than I realize and I lift my gaze to meet his. We are standing so close I smell him. Nerds are not allowed to smell so orgasmic, like a cross between a fresh autumn day and serious pheromones.

  Ryan’s mouth falls open as he blinks at me. “What are you doing?”

  “I just, uh…”

  “She has a message for you, dude.”

  Thanks, Brad.

  I smile to cover the fact I’ve just created a nice little shit storm for myself. I have no idea what to say. My cheeks engulf. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life. Now that I’ve made a fool of myself, I can’t retreat fast enough. I’ll never be able to live this down. To top it off, I go to school with all these guys. I’ll never get into a Delta party now. Sure, the Deltas are all dicks, but their parties are epic.

  That will teach me to open my big mouth.

  I take a step back so I have both Ryan and Brad the douche in my peripherals. Brad laughs at me. “Take you and your mouth back to your hole, Red. While you’re at it, send your friend over. I bet she knows what to do with her mouth.”

  Ryan narrows that steely glare. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

  Brad stiffens as he squares his shoulders in challenge. He puffs out his chest, a classic tough guy response. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

  To my shock, Ryan doesn’t back down. “You heard me.”

  “Do you really want me to kick your ass right here in front of everyone?”

  Shit. Shit! I have to do something before my big mouth gets Ryan’s ass kicked.

  “As much as I’m sure you’d love to flex those big muscles and show everyone how tough you are by beating him up,” I say to Brad as I slip my arm around Ryan’s. “I have other plans for him tonight.”

  I pull him away from the table and feel every burning glare on the back of my neck. When Ryan tries to look over his shoulder, I jerk his arm to stop him. “Don’t. If they see that shocked expression on your face, they’ll know you crashed and burned when you talked to me.”

  “But I did crash and burn.”

  “They don’t know that. Come on. I’m saving your ass here. Let’s just put on a little show for them and you go from zero to hero.”

  That crooked smile melts and his expression turns heartbreaking as he drops his gaze.

  Jesus. He looks like I just kicked his puppy. “What’s wrong?”

  “Zero?”

  Of course he picks up on that one word out of everything else I just said. I debate lying to him but I’ve never been any good at lying. Or feeding a man’s precious ego. I’m brutally honest, as poor Ryan just found out.

  “Look, I know I’m not telling you something you don’t already know.”

  “I know I’m not a zero.”

  “Do you?” I nod at an open table and we have a seat. We’re still in sight of Brad and the other dickheads, which is perfect. I make sure I’m facing them so they see everything. Ryan looks ready to cry. “Think about it. Why else would you come to a meat market bar like this with guys who look like that?”

  “Because they’re my friends.” Even as he says it, I know he doesn’t believe it.

  “No, they’re not. They treat you like shit. You don’t need friends like that. Girls aren’t going to approach that table to get your attention.”

  He finally lifts his troubled gaze and settles it on me. “You did.”

  “No.” I shake my head quickly to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong idea. “You weren’t even there. I didn’t come over there for your attention.”

  “I guess that backfired.” His lopsided grin returns. He chuckles and draws a smile from me. It’s a cute laugh. A sexy laugh, even. I’m shocked he has it in him. As his grin grows, I stare at it, captivated. He’s got reall
y nice teeth, too. And pretty eyes. If only he knew how to work them.

  A crazy, stupid, beautiful idea pops into my head. With the right haircut, contacts, a new wardrobe, a little training, and a shit ton of luck, he could be a real lady’s man.

  Even, dare I say, a player.

  Oh, yeah. Harold Ryan is going to be the next big thing. Then the Delta dicks would accept him into their herd as one of their own since he seems to want to be one of them.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” He snaps his brow into a frown.

  I feign innocence and pull my attention to my hands. My empty hands. I glance over to the bar where my glass sits next to Britt and the bartending eye candy. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jumping up, I hurry over to my best friend as I ready my excuse as to why I’m ditching her. But she barely gives me a second look. Her attention is one hundred percent devoted to the bartender. I grab my purse.

  Britt catches my arm. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m just having a drink with Ryan.”

  Britt glances over her shoulder before jerking her shocked gaze back to me. “What the hell, Em? You went over there to tell those guys off and you end up having a drink with the nerd? How does that even happen? The guy in the middle is way hotter and more your type.”

  “He’s also a prick.”

  “So are all the guys you date, which is why your relationships never last.”

  I narrow my eyes. “Tonight is not about analyzing my perpetually single status. It’s to nurse your broken heart, remember?”

  Britt offers a flirty grin to the bartender, who returns the gesture. “I’m over it.”

  Of course she is. “What happened to Paul?”

  “Peter,” she sings without taking her eyes off the hot bartender. “Mike promises to take my mind off of him.”

  “You’re going home with the bartender?”

  “Yes, I am.” She grins wide.

  “I really hate you right now.”

  Mike walks over and leans down on the bar, his eyes dancing as he smiles at Britt. “How’s that drink?”

  “It’s the best I’ve ever had. You must be very good with your hands.”