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“Someone needs to show these guys how to party,” I mumbled, picking up a beer from the small bar in the corner and handing a fresh one to Brock, who discarded the other one in the garage bin sitting beside the bar. The glass clinked as he dropped it, but the sound was muffled by all the voices and music.

“Do you see him?” Brock asked.

Taking a swig of my beer, pleased to find it was cold, I shook my head. “No, not yet.”

“Is there anyone else we should take note of? Friends? Fraternity brothers? A girl?” He casually assessed the room. Casually to everyone else but me, that was. A shrewd light glinted in the center of his aqua eyes.

“Everyone.”

Brock snorted. “I thought you said this would be quick.”

I gave him a sharklike grin. “How hard can it be to spot a bunch of preppy douchebags?”

“At a place like this?” His eyes panned the room of guys who could have all been carbon copies of each other.

“Point made. Come on, let’s check the rest of the house.”

“This is your gig. Lead the way.” He waved the beer out in front of him.

Tossing a grin over my shoulder, I maneuvered around a cluster of girls. I felt their eyes on Brock and me, but I didn’t give them a second glance. “I like you taking orders from me.”

“Funny,” he said flatly. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

We sauntered through the first floor, going into room after room, even checking the patio out back, but Sterling was nowhere to be seen. Just where was this asshole? Hidden away in one of the bedrooms?

I couldn’t decide which was more annoying, dodging the advances of girl after girl or hunting down this asshole. Stopping at the bottom of the staircase, I glanced upward, surveying the second floor. A hallway stemmed from either side of the top landing. This place had to have a least a dozen rooms or more to house a fraternity of this size. When one of the Elite threw a party, we closed off sections of our houses. Our bedrooms were always off-limits, but it didn’t seem as if Chi Sigma had any regulations or restrictions. To me, that was a fucking invitation.

Waiting until the couple coming down the stairs reached the bottom, I hooked around the banister and started up, Brock on my heels. As we reached the top, a door down the hall opened, and a female laugh fluttered into the hallway.

We weren’t the only ones upstairs. A handful of people lined up against the wall to use the bathroom. From the corner of my eye, I watched Sterling come out of a bedroom with a girl behind him. She tugged at the end of her skirt before smoothing her tousled strawberry blonde hair. It was pretty fucking obvious what they had been doing behind the closed door. Not only were her hair and clothes disheveled, but her lips were puffy, her lipstick smeared.

I couldn’t judge him for doing something I had done time and time again, but I wanted to, mainly because I had changed. It had taken me some time to work through my shit, but living an empty life with different girls every night was so unappealing compared to waking up next to Mads.

“Do you see him?” Brock asked, noticing the change in my expression and the sudden stiffening of my shoulders. His back was to Sterling.

I nodded. “Yeah, he’s approaching the stairs.”

Brock continued to lean against the banister, his baseball hat pulled low to shield his eyes. “How convenient for us.”

Clutching the beer bottle in my hand, I tipped my head down as Sterling and the girl passed by and trotted down the stairs. They rounded the bottom landing and disappeared into the crowd. The asshole walked right by the two of us without a glance. Perfect. It meant we didn’t stand out for once, which I admitted was an odd feeling.

Brock clasped my shoulder. “Let’s move.”

I grinned, loving that he knew what was on my mind without me having to say a word. This shit was a typical night for us.

We headed down the hall, and Brock leaned against the wall, blocking me with his body as my fingers wrapped around the doorknob of the room Sterling and the girl had just exited. It turned freely. “These guys should learn to lock their doors during parties. Amateurs.”

“Make it quick,” he advised, his eyes canvassing the hallway and staircase.

I handed over my beer for him to hold while I did a little search and seizure. “I know the drill, boss.” And as quiet as a shadow, I slipped inside the bedroom, keeping the door cracked just enough for Brock to alert me of any potential problems. He would stand guard in case Sterling decided to wander back.

A small table lamp had been left on, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow. He had a single room to himself, which made my job easier. I didn’t have to sort through whose shit was whose. However, the amount of black plaid in the room made me queasy and dizzy.

Dude seriously needed some style. There was such a thing as excessive.

Hints of smoke and tobacco lingered in the air, faintly reminding me of Mads, and it instantly angered me. I wanted no part of another guy to make me think of my girl.

I wasn’t a fan of cigarettes in general or what they did to the body, and as much as I would like her to quit, I also oddly loved the way her perfume and shampoo mixed with the aroma of cigarette smoke. It was her scent. Sexy, just like she was.


Tags: J.L. Weil Elite of Elmwood Romance