Page 27 of A Stealthy Situation

Benny thumps my arm. “He said I’m a ten. I’m glad you know that you’re missing out on all this.”

“I have so much regret,” I say, leaning against the wall beside him.

“I can live with that.” His puffy lips curl into a grin. “For the rest of your life, you’ll always think back on the DIK you never had.”

“The memory will keep me company on my deathbed.”

“Hot. Think by that point you’ll be too old to even get it up over me?”

I glance down at my pants. “Apparently, I’m already suffering from that issue.”

“Hey, maybe you’re not straight, just impotent.”

I slap my hand down over his mouth. “Don’t put that into the universe.”

His pretty bluey-hazel eyes shine teasingly up at me.

I only remove my hand when I trust he’s done talking about it. “What time tomorrow?”

Benny tilts his head. “Huh?”

“For cleanup. What time do you want me here?”

“I know I got some good hits on you, but none of them were to the head. You won, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. Kicking your ass won’t be forgotten in a while.”

He gives me a flat look.

“But I’m going to help you anyway.”

“Well, now you’ve said it, I’m going to hold you to it.” He grips my shoulder and leans in close. So close. Close enough that for one second, I actually think he might kiss me. He doesn’t, but I also didn’t pull back from him either. “You are going to regret every minute of your life tomorrow. And you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

8

BENNY

I have a niggling headache, thanks to Emmett’s drinking last night, but it’s nothing some painkillers don’t squash. Since I’m planning to be at the house all day—my party, which means I’m in charge of supervising cleanup—Em’s gone out. Knowing he’s not locked away in my bedroom helps lessen some of my anxiety around him and what he’s doing and means I get to funnel all that anxiety toward Harrison instead.

Good times.

I shouldn’t. I’m being a dumbass. The dude is straight and off the table, which isn’t an issue, except when I mentioned a crush last night, I might not have been far off. Stupid things. Crushes are pointless and meaningless. A bit of attraction and the excitement of someone new is all well and good until the newness wears off and you realize you don’t actually like anything about them.

That’s where I am with Harrison.

He’s the shiny new toy, and I’m the bratty toddler who doesn’t want anyone else to play with him.

He said that he was coming around today, but we never talked a time, and after downing a few more drinks once it was established hooking up was off the table, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s forgotten all about it.

Bad ideas are always great when you’re having fun. Following through is a whole other story.

So now I’m doing that annoying thing where I’m bouncing from room to room and definitely not straining my ears for any sign of someone at the front door.

“You call that floor clean, Harper?” I call from where I’m perched on the kitchen counter, smashing my way through a bag of Takis and ignoring the way my mouth is burning.

He flips me off with one hand and keeps scrubbing with the other.

Having pledges means I don’t have to do any of the actual cleaning myself. We’ve all been there on the bottom rungs of the frat, and one day, these guys will be the ones sitting on the counter, watching. We all know I’ll end up getting my hands dirty eventually though. That’s brotherhood. Give them shit for an hour, then everyone gets into it and gets the job done. Sure, the house smells of sweaty gym gear most of the time, but none of us like living in a dump.

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