He should have gone with the bedsheet toga we’d tried to talk him into, but he was committed to the pool floats.
I followed him down the stairs to the basement, where the party had already begun. Music blasted from the speakers behind the ping pong table, where beer pong had been set up, but no one was playing yet.
The first group of girls had arrived, and people were gathered in groups, talking loudly and laughing over the music while they drank from their red cups. I made my way to the keg and surveyed the outfits—or lack of them—while the freshman assigned to work the tap poured me a drink.
There were girls wrapped in dresses of yellow caution tape, or halter tops and skirts made from metallic fringe decorations. So much skin was showing, and the chance of a wardrobe malfunction was very high, and yet . . . I wasn’t as interested as I should have been.
I could get laid tonight. It wasn’t much of a challenge, normally, but tonight with my shirt off? It’d be so easy. Whatever girl I picked out wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d find some excuse to put a hand on my bare chest, and that’d be it. I’d have to go back to using condoms in my scenes until I got tested again, but having a partner outside the house wasn’t, like, illegal.
But as I stared at the sea of hot girls in front of me, my mind wandered elsewhere. I knew what I wanted.
And she isn’t here.
So, I stood to the side and drank my beer, irritated at my situation. Tonight was supposed to be fun. I’d finished my last final, was ready to get wild, and I’d been looking forward to this party for forever. It sucked that I was spending it bored in the corner, wishing I was somewhere else.
More people streamed down the stairs, filling up the poorly lit and not-at-all-ventilated basement, and as it got crowded, the temperature rose. The people in plastic wrap and foil began to sweat, and I was glad I hadn’t gone that route.
I snickered at the guy dressed as a giant box of wine with the dispensing nozzle placed right in front of his dick. The thing actually worked, too—a girl had gotten down on her knees and drank from the nozzle while the guy made a face like she was blowing him.
I scanned the packed crowd and faked interest when a girl wearing a bunch of balloons asked about my costume. She clearly misunderstood the assignment—the point was to get as naked as possible.
I was about ready to give up and head home when I finally spotted Riley back by the water heater, talking to some poor girl he’d obviously trapped there. He wore an honest-to-God barrel, held up by red suspenders that were draped over his gangly shoulders.
“What’s up, Victoria?” he asked when I approached.
“I’m gonna get another drink,” the girl said. She’d seen her opening for escape and took it, hurrying away.
Riley was displeased that I’d run her off and gave me an irritated look as he took a sip of his beer. His tone was pure sarcasm. “Nice costume.”
“It takes a real man to wear pink,” I said. “Hey, listen. We need to talk about the Fidelity Cup tournament, and how you cheated.”
I’d expected him to act confused or deny it, but instead his tone was disinterested. “Did your new girlfriend tell you that?”
My what? “No. Elijah did.”
Finally, there was a reaction. A flicker of surprise went through his eyes, but then it died. “And?”
His cavalier question corded my muscles. “And,” I continued for him, “you’re going to tell the Sigs what you did. You should have been disqualified, and if you hadn’t cheated, Mads—Madison,” I quickly corrected, “would have beaten me. Either way, the Lambdas won.”
Riley wrapped his free hand around one of his suspenders and adjusted it to sit better on his shoulder. The barrel looked heavy, but I suddenly worried that the uncomfortable look on his face was solely from his costume and not what I’d said.
Why was he staring at me like he held the upper hand?
“Look, I get it,” he said. “She’s hot, and I know she’s sucking your dick on the regular now, but this cheating thing . . . You should tell her to let it go.”
A chill glanced down my spine. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She put you up to this, right?”
My heart beat too fast for my body, and although I was standing still, it felt like I was running. “Who?”
“Madison.” An evil smile peeled back his lips. “Or is it Annika Adore?”
Oh, fuck.
EIGHTEEN
Colin
I fixed my expression and steeled my body, trying to keep myself under control. This information hadn’t come from me because I hadn’t told a soul, and I highly doubted Mads had shared it with anyone either. “How the fuck do you know that name?”