Reluctant Hero (TREX Rookies Book 1)

by Allie K. Adams

  All three guys still as their expressions melt from their faces in unison. 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 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. “How would I do that?”

  “He’s standing right behind you.”

  5

  {Emma}

  My heart now firmly planted in my throat, I whip around to be face-to-face with Ryan. He’s taller than I realize and I lift my gaze to meet his. We’re 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 these guys. I’ll never get into a Delta party now. Sure, the Deltas are all dicks, but their parties are epic.

  This 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 on the president of his frat. “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’d you just say to me, bitch?”

  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. I slip my arm around his and regard Brad. “As much as I’m sure you’d love to show everyone how tough you are by beating him up, 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 think 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 slides from his face and his expression turns heartbreaking as he drops his gaze. Jesus. He looks like I just kicked his puppy. My stomach tightens knowing I’m the reason he looks so sad now and I want to fix it. I want to see that smile again. “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. It’s one of my plethora of faults. “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 and I can’t stand 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. The doubt swirling in his eyes gives him away.

  “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. And yet, as I think about it, I find myself questioning my own motives. Not knowing what else to say, I make shit up. I have to defend myself, even if it makes me sound like a moron. “I didn’t come over there for your attention. You weren’t even there.”

  “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 really nice teeth, too. And great eyes. If only he knew how to work them.

  A crazy, beautiful image 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. Oh, yeah. Harold Ryan could 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. I want to know more about the zero with the potential to be a hero. 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 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.”

  “That I am.”

  Britt giggles and flips her hair. Just like that, Mike is snared in her web. I roll my eyes and return my attention to the table.

  And freeze. What the hell? Ryan’s gone. “Where’d he go?”

  Britt turns from Mike long enough to glance at the empty table. She stiffens and spins on the barstool. “He was just there.”

  “If you’re talking about the geek at table twelve,” Mike chimes in. “He left the minute you did.”

  I’m stunned into paralysis, too shocked to believe it. “Am I being punked?”

  Britt rests her hand on my shoulder in sympathy, though I hear the giggle as she tries to swallow it. “Congrats, Em. You’ve just been stood up by the biggest loser in the bar.”

  Oh, hell no. He didn’t sneak out the front door or I would have seen him. I spot the back exit and make a
beeline for it, ignoring Britt’s protests. I hear Brad’s booming laughter from somewhere behind me as the asshole mocks me. It only fuels my hate fire.

  I throw the door open and march to the parking lot. It’s not hard to spot him. He’s the only one walking away from the bar. “Hey! Wait up!” A group slows and looks at me. “Not you. I don’t even know you,” I tell them as I hurry by them. “Ryan!”

  He stops and turns. When he sees me running toward him, his eyes widen. For some reason, seeing him so shocked makes me feel better. Maybe he isn’t drink-and-dashing me after all.

  I finally reach him and hate that I’m panting. God, I’m so out of shape. I put my finger up for him to give me a minute to catch my breath and rest my hands on my knees.

  “Why are you so out of breath? That was like fifty feet. Tops.”

  “I’m wearing heels,” I point out. “That makes it double the distance.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says me.” I finally straighten and blow out a breath. “What was that?”

  “What was what?”

  “You just left me.”

  “I left you?” he throws back, his voice thick with anger. “You’re the one who got up and walked away. Like I’m going to sit there and wait for you to come back. How much of a zero do you think I am?”

  “I just went to get my purse.”

  “I’m not that stupid. You were trying to find a way to get out of having a drink with me.” He throws me a cold smile and rubs the back of his neck. “Anything else you want to lie to me about before I get a chance to leave here with any dignity?” He spins on his heel and storms off.

  I follow, not sure why I’m chasing him across the parking lot in painful fuck-me pumps instead of going back inside and forgetting this disaster ever happened. But I do. “Oh, come on. You can’t seriously think I’d just leave you like that.”

  He whips around so fast I run into him. When I stumble, he catches me by the elbow. I hate how I like the way his hand feels against my skin. I shudder as chills attack my flesh and wash up my spine.

  “Why not?” he asks as he drops his hand. It falls to his side, and I wish he’d touch me again. “It’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to help me.”

  My mouth falls open. “Are you shitting me? I saved you from getting your ass kicked back there.”

  “Because of you.”

  “I—” I got nothing. “I was only trying to help.”

  “You want to help me? Turn me into one of them.”

  It takes me several seconds for his request to sink in. Even after it does, I’m not sure I understand. “Into what?”

  “Into a Delta. A real Delta.”

  I narrow my gaze. “Why would you want to be a real Delta? They’re all total douches.”

  “I thought girls like you go for guys like that.”

  My mouth falls open yet again. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Do you really need me to spell it out?”

  “You’d better before I kick your ass myself.”

  “Sorry. I just mean the hot ones.” He puts his hands up to ward off the attack.

  He thinks I’m hot. I cool down ever so slightly. “Not all girls go for the Brads of the world.”

  “What about you?”

  Right now my interests run more along the lines of nerdy zeros with stormy gray eyes. I’m not about to admit it, especially to the object of my very confusing interest. “This isn’t about me, so let’s get back to the bigger question. Why do you want me to turn you into a total tool?”

  He loses all expression as he searches my eyes. “I’m miserable. The guys in my house treat me like shit.”

  “All the more reason to not be like them.”

  “Please help me.” The pleading tone of his voice squeezes my heart. It makes me sad he’s so desperate to fit in that he’ll change who he is for these dickheads. “I’ll do anything.”

  “Unless you can get me into one of the Delta’s epic parties, I’m out.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Come again?” I still and hold my breath. I was only kidding—well, sort of. I really want into one of those parties.

  “The Delta Annual Spring Hookup is coming up right before spring break.”

  My heart sinks as I deflate. “As much as I’d love to go to the DASH, I’m a sophomore and I don’t belong to a sorority. That’s like a double whammy.”

  “Unless you’re invited by a Delta. An upper class one, at that. I’m a junior.” He wiggles his brow.

  I crinkle mine in return. It can’t be that easy. “Wait. Are you saying you’d take me to the party of the year? The party my children’s children will hear about and wish they were alive when it happened?”

  “You turn me into a real Delta and I’ll get you into the party. It’s going to take more than turning me into a tool. I need to show them I can keep a girl, first.”

  I eye him cautiously. “What exactly are you asking me to do?”

  “Go out with me.” He lifts his hand when I take a breath to protest. “It doesn’t have to be a real relationship. For the time you’re grooming me into a Delta dick, pretend to be my girlfriend. That way no one questions why you’re spending so much time with me. By the time the DASH comes around, it’s a given I’m bringing you.”

  “I don’t know…” I chew on the inside of my lip and glance toward the street as I deliberate. Being attached to a nerd for a month could kill my chance at ever being anything at BU other than, well, that girl who dated the nerd for a month. I’m only in my second year. Do I want to define myself already? Then again, if I turn him into one of my Project Em’s Way, he won’t be a nerd for long.

  “I promise to break up with you at the DASH,” he adds. “We’ll put on a big show. I’ll be a complete dick to really sell it, since I’m a Delta.”

  “Why would I want you to do that?”

  “You’ll get sympathy from all the other Deltas.”

  As shallow as that makes me sound, I like his idea. I’ve witnessed breakup sympathy firsthand with Britt and her ability to earn the bartender’s attention. I’d legitimately turn the head of a Delta without having to stand next to my best friend.

  I really am shallow.

  Eyeing his appearance, I list the things to fix. “We’ll have to lose the glasses, update the hair, and definitely do something with the wardrobe.”

  “Is that all?” The sarcasm dripping from his tone earns him a roll of my eyes.

  “For starters. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be the ultimate Delta dick. A true lady’s man.”

  “And you’ll be my date for the DASH.”

  The more I think about it, the more it sinks in. Holy shitballs. Holy holy shitballs! I’m going to the Delta freakin’ DASH. That’s like walking the red carpet at the Oscars. I think about pinching myself, but if I’m dreaming, I don’t want to ever wake up.

  “Do we have a deal?” I don’t trust that glimmer in his eyes. It’s dark. Heated. Nerds are not allowed to look at anyone with that level of intensity. I shouldn’t love the way it sparks my libido to life.

  I snap out of my daze. “Uh, let me think about that. Yes!”

  We shake on it and I hold his hand a little longer than I need to. When he glances at my hand still in his, I slowly slip it out. “I’m going to turn you into the hottest player at BU. It’s only fitting. All the Deltas are total players. Hot, but total tools.”

  “I can’t argue that one.” He leads me over to where all the motorcycles are parked and I have to admit, I’m impressed. I love a man on a motorcycle. The rebel. The wild one. I can’t wait to see his leather jacket and tattoos.

  When he backs out a powder blue Vespa from between two actual motorcycles, I laugh. “You drive a scooter?”

  “What’s wrong with driving a scooter? Lots of guys drive scooters.”

  “Not to bars.”

  “I only have one helmet with me.” He hands it to me.

  I stare at it. “Are you
kidding me right now?”

  That blank expression on his face tells me he’s not. I don’t want to ride bitch on a scooter. Since it’s either that or take the bus now that my ride will be riding the bartender tonight, I grab the helmet and shove it on my head. “I’ll have you know taking a girl home on the back of a scooter means she won’t stick around for breakfast.”

  “I don’t get what that means.”

  I slap him on the back as I climb aboard. “We have our work cut out for us, buddy.”

  6

  [Ryan]

  I’ve always had a thing for redheads. I blame Christina Feeney, the first girl I ever loved. Granted, it was the second grade, but a guy doesn’t forget a love like that. The tightness in my chest. The way my heart beats like I’ve just finished a twenty-mile run. She started it and I react the same way to every girl I’ve ever tried to talk to since I was eight years old. I swear to God I’m going to have a stroke just thinking about talking to a girl.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. Can Emma tell how nervous I am? Is she just as nervous? She keeps darting her eyes to the door, like she’s waiting for her chance to escape. I admit, this is not how I thought this night would end, with me bringing a girl home, especially someone like Emma Rae. I’ve never done this sort of thing before and have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t want to get it wrong.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Holy shit, yes.” She follows that up with a quick smile as she takes a seat at the counter. “I mean, please.”

  As I open the fridge and peek inside, my gut twists. I hate being a starving college student with a minimum wage job. I have a whopping two beers, a box of baking soda my mom bought when I moved in over two years ago, and a couple slices of pizza I should have thrown out a month ago.

  I emerge with the last two beers and offer her a hint of a grin to hide my nerves. “Sorry, fresh out of cherry syrup martinis.”