Frat House Confessions: Wes
Frat House Confessions, Book 2
Bethany Lopez
Frat House Confessions: Wes
Copyright 2019 Bethany Lopez
Published September 2019
ISBN - 9781690778431
Cover Design by Makeready Designs
Editing by Red Road Editing / Kristina Circelli
Formatting by Bethany Lopez
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Prologue
1. Trixie
2. Wes
3. Trixie
4. Wes
5. Trixie
6. Wes
7. Trixie
8. Wes
9. Trixie
10. Wes
11. Trixie
12. Wes
13. Trixie
14. Wes
15. Trixie
16. Wes
17. Trixie
18. Wes
19. Trixie
20. Wes
21. Trixie
22. Wes
23. Trixie
24. Wes
25. Trixie
26. Wes
27. Trixie
28. Wes
29. Trixie
30. Wes
31. Trixie
32. Wes
33. Trixie
34. Wes
35. Trixie
36. Wes
Epilogue
Untitled
Frat House Confessions: Brody
About the Author
Also by Bethany Lopez
Prologue
“So, how does this work?” I asked Papi, Delta’s Treasurer and resident advice giver.
“Well, some of the guys like to play up the priest angle, while others come in and lay on my couch like I’m a damn therapist. Personally, I’d rather you just lay out your issue and we’ll move forward from there,” Papi replied, glancing at me briefly before focusing on the arm curls he was currently doing. “Although, with you, little Ridge, I’m pretty sure I already know the issue.”
I masked my expression, not wanting to show my displeasure at the nickname little Ridge for fear he’d kick me out and not help me.
Papi, real name Hector, had originally planned to become a priest, hence his in-room confessional. Rumor had it that once he got old enough to realize everything he’d be missing out on by joining the priesthood, he’d devastated his parents by becoming the polar opposite.
I could attest that the ladies did go crazy over the tall, dark, and super-yoked senior.
“Yeah, you do … everyone does, that’s the problem. I’ve become the butt of everyone’s jokes at Delta. I want to make it right and prove last year was a fluke, that I belong here, just like everyone else.”
It was hard, being the younger brother of the Delta President, and the guy who’d been duped by an undercover school journalist during rush.
I’d thought Trixie was my friend. We’d met in class and she’d agreed to help me out with this makeover challenge, if I agreed to teach her how to pick up chicks. That should have been my first clue. Trixie was funny, smart, and edgy in a way I’d never be; plus, she probably had more game in her little finger than I had in my whole body.
Still, it was nice to feel needed, so I’d stupidly believed what she said and we’d struck up a deal. Little did I know, it had all been bullshit. The entire time I thought we were friends, she’d been writing an expose on the competition, Delta, and Crush, the misogynistic asshole who used to be our VP.
After she and I had won the competition, she’d come clean with me, and I’d immediately told Ridge. After talking to our then-President, we’d gone to talk to her and asked her to keep the Delta name out of it.
She’d agreed, but the story had still run the next week and Crush had been kicked out of Delta.
I hadn’t spoken with her since.
Papi placed the weights on the floor and turned his attention to me. He watched me quietly, and if I hadn’t seen him do the same countless times when he was thinking, I’d have been freaked out by the directness of his stare.
Papi intimidated the shit out of me. But then, most of the high-ranked Deltas did.
After a few moments, he snapped his fingers and said, “The way I see it, you have two options.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees, and said eagerly, “I’m listening.”
“Either, you can bring her around, show her how wrong she was about the guys and the frat, and let the guys get to know her, too. Let them see why you trusted her, and have her come clean, tell them you had no idea what she was about.”
I really didn’t think she would go for that, so I asked, “What’s the other option?”
“A little quid pro quo … make her fall in love with you, hard, then dump her.”
I blinked, cause that sounded pretty harsh. I didn’t say that though, lord knew Papi already thought I was a pussy. Instead I shook my head and said, “I’m pretty sure she’s still dating someone, a girl. I mean, she is bi, but I don’t think I’m the kind of guy she’d go for.”
“So, become that guy, Wes. She’ll never see you coming.”
I pursed my lips, not really sure if either option would work.
Papi stood up, grabbed a towel, and wiped it over his head and face.
“If you want the guys to stop harassing you, and be seen as someone other than little Ridge, the guy who let a reporter into our midst, these are your best options. As with any penance, it’s up to you to follow through and do the work. Now, I’m gonna hit the showers.”
I got to my feet.
“Thanks, Papi, I’ll take what you said into consideration.”
“Wes,” he called when I was almost to the door.
I turned back and he said, “Who you are, how you’re perceived, and how your college experience plays out is completely up to you. You’re in charge of your own destiny. You can do this, bro, I have faith in you.”
“Thanks, Papi,” I repeated and walked out, shutting the door behind me.
I didn’t think I could get her to come hang out at Delta, not after reading that article. It was pretty obvious she hated frats and thought any guy in one was a complete asshole. Plus, I didn’t see the guys welcoming her with open arms. Still, that seemed more plausible than getting her to fall in love with me.
Shit, I thought, feeling bummed that Papi’s advice hadn’t been some magical cure that fixed everything.
I guess I had some more thinking to do, and Papi was right about one thing: the only person who could fix this mess I’d landed in, was me.
One
Trixie
“Are you coming out with us tonight or what?” Starla asked.
She, Jude, and I had met during Freshman Orie
ntation and become fast friends. As soon as we were able to move off campus and rent an apartment together, we had, and we’d been living together ever since.
“Nah, I need to finish this article,” I replied, not looking up from my computer screen.
“Come on, Trix, you haven’t gone out with us since you and Downer Debbie broke up. It’s time for you to move on, have a little fun.”
I wrinkled my nose at the mention of my ex, if you could even really call her that, since we’d only technically been a couple for a few weeks. That’s how long it had taken for her true colors to show and me to show her the door.
“It’s due tomorrow, Star. Plus, I’m not feeling it. I’m tired of co-eds. They’re so whiny and needy.”
“Maybe you need to change things up and get some dick.”
I lifted my gaze to her wildly grinning face.
Starla was always saying stuff to try and shock people, and with most, it worked … but not with me. I was unshockable.
“You might be right, but I doubt I’ll find anyone interesting at the bar, man or woman,” I replied.
And, it was true. I was bored.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d met someone and had an interesting conversation, let alone felt a spark with.
Liar.
I closed my eyes and pushed the thought away.
Sure, Wes and I had gotten along great. He was sweet, funny, interesting, and we had a lot in common. But, not only was he as far from my type as a guy could get, he pretty much hated me.
Not that I could blame him.
I used him in order to gain access to Delta and write a story that ended up earning me an A and brought me closer to my goal of becoming editor of the school paper. Sure, Crush had earned every word that I’d written, and I didn’t feel a drop of remorse over the fact that he’d lost his position at Delta and was kicked out of the frat all together.
But, I did feel a niggle of guilt over Wes.
He’d liked and trusted me, and I’d been a total phony. Well, at least as far as the frat stuff went. I’d never lied about how much I liked him and enjoyed spending time together. Unfortunately, I’d thrown our burgeoning friendship out the window when I’d hit publish.
He was too nice anyway. A pushover, easily manipulated. So, there was no way we’d ever have been anything more than friends, no matter how attractive he was. I needed someone with edge, a spine, someone who could handle the shit I was sure to throw at them.
I’d yet to find a person who could be what I needed.
“Well, there’s zero chance you’ll find anyone interesting sitting home alone. Unless you’re hoping your next GrubHub delivery person is going to deliver more than just wings,” Starla countered, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Oh my God!” I shouted, saving my file and shutting my laptop. “If I come for a drink will you stop harping at me?”
“Yes!” she agreed, clapping her hands.
“Fine,” I said grudgingly as I stood. “But just one drink … and, maybe some wings. Now that you mentioned ‘em, they sound good.”
“Deal. Jude is meeting us there as soon as he’s done finishing up his side work.”
Starla and Jude worked at the local burger place, which was right off campus and always busy.
“Cool, let me clean up real quick and I’ll be ready,” I replied.
Ten minutes later, I’d paired my jeans with a V-neck, swiped some mascara on my eyelashes, blush across my cheekbones, and I was ready to go.
No, I didn’t expect to meet anyone who gave me tingles, but there was no reason I couldn’t be ready and look good, just in case.
My jet-black hair had grown out since the pixie I’d cut it into for the Delta makeover last year, and I now kept it in a sleek bob that was easy to maintain and looked pretty good, if I said so myself.
While I was petite, slender, and cute with an edge of sexy, Starla was full-on bombshell. Tall with perfect tan skin, an hourglass figure, and a face made for billboards, my film major roommate caused jaws to drop whenever she entered the room.
Luckily, she was as beautiful on the inside as the outside.
So, when we entered the bar more than half the room took notice. Unfortunately for them, Starla was madly in love with Jude, even though they both acted clueless and never did anything about it.
They’d been driving me insane for the past two-and-a-half years. If I didn’t love and respect them both so much, I would have locked them in a dark room ages ago, but I knew they needed to figure out their relationship on their own, even though I knew they were made for each other.
“There’s an open booth over there,” Starla said, moving toward the back left of the bar.
I followed close behind, the thought of my soon-to-be-ordered wings making my stomach growl.
I was thinking how good a large draft beer would go with said wings, when I looked to the right and saw two gorgeous guys. They had matching grins and dark hair, and were laughing up at the woman who was delivering their food.
One looked very familiar…
Wes.
My stomach clenched as his gaze shifted and landed on me, and my breath held as I waited for his acknowledgement. When he turned back to the server instead, without so much as a glimmer of recognition, my heart fell.
I was right … he hates me.
Two
Wes
“Who’s that?” Brody asked, glancing over his shoulder, before turning back to me.
“Trixie and her roommate, Starla,” I replied, lifting a fry absently.
Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling very hungry.
I hadn’t expected to see her, not so soon after talking to Papi. I hadn’t made up my mind what to do yet, but one look at her stoic face, and I knew whatever I decided wouldn’t be easy. There was no trace of the girl I once knew. She looked at me like I was a stranger, or worse, someone inconsequential.
“The makeover chick?” Brody asked, before taking a big bite of his burger.
I nodded, tossing the fry back on my plate.
“She’s hot,” he muttered.
“Gross,” I replied with a scowl. “Swallow your food before you talk.”
Brody just grinned at me
“Her friend’s a fucking knockout,” he said, mouth still full of food.
Now he was only doing it to get on my nerves, since I’d made the mistake of telling him to stop.
That had always been the way with Brody and me. He loved pushing my buttons, and my dumbass always gave him the ammunition to do so.
Ridge had been the protector, the one taking the brunt of our dad’s anger so we didn’t have to, and becoming more of a father figure than he’d ever been. While I had been the focus of our mother’s attention and affection, sometimes almost smothered by the weight of it, Brody was left to his own devices.
Free from fists or adulation. Free to be himself.
“She’d eat you alive,” I told him, referring to Starla.
Brody grinned and said, “What a way to go.”
I chuckled and shook my head.
God, it was good to have him here. Now that we were all grown and out from under out parents’ rule, it was nice to get to know my brothers for the men they were becoming, and Brody and I were closer than ever, now that we lived together.
We’d moved into the same subdivision as Ridge and Karrie, although they were in a house and we were in adjacent condos.
This meant, we got to see each other whenever we wanted, but still had our own separate space when needed. So far, it was working out great. We got together for dinner at their place, or pizza at ours, and because of our proximity, our relationships were evolving, and we were more like the brothers I’d always hoped we’d be when I was younger.
This was why, when Brody and I got home an hour later, we weren’t surprised to see Ridge walking over, hand in hand with Karrie, and a six-pack in the other.
“Hey, how was dinner?” Ridge asked as they approached.
“Good,
” Brody replied while I opened the door. “We saw Wes’s newspaper girl there.”
“Trixie?” Karrie asked. “How’s she doing?”
Karrie and Trixie had met when they’d both been makeover contestants for Delta. Of course, they’d both known what they were in for; Ridge and I had been completely honest with them during the whole process.
I wish I could say the same for Trixie.
Still, I knew Karrie had liked her, even though I didn’t think they’d spoken since.
I shrugged. “We didn’t speak.”
When we walked inside, Brody went straight to the big screen to set up the video game we were in the middle of, while Ridge went to the kitchen to open the beer and put the rest in the fridge.
“You two still haven’t spoken?” Karrie asked as we sat on the couch.
“No, not since the night Ridge and I went to see her about the article.”
“I’m sorry, Wes, I know you were friends.”
“I thought so, but apparently not,” I replied, not bothering to hide my bitterness.
Ridge brought out beer for the three of us, and a glass of wine from the bottle Karrie’d left here for herself.
We all settled into our normal positions, with me, Ridge, and Brody around the TV, yelling, laughing, and talking shit while we played our game, and Karrie laid out on the loveseat reading her latest paperback.
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