Page 23 of Off Limits

Another guy wearing a frat shirt approaches us with a wide, charming smile on his face—is he a member of this frat, then? I have no idea, because I’m not fluent in the Greek system, so they’re all literally just Greek to me. “What is it you ladies are saying yes to, if I might ask?” He sips his cup, his dark eyes sparkling at us over the rim.

Autumn returns his smile with one of her own. “To new experiences.”

His smile turns wicked. “Oh, I’m sure I could help you with that.” He steps between us and turns to survey the debauchery surrounding us. “What kinds of experiences are you looking to try? We have a variety out here, or I can take you inside and show you what’s on offer in there.”

Autumn looks him up and down and laughs, not quite mocking. “Oh, I’m sure you’d be happy to play tour guide.”

“With two beautiful ladies to show around? You bet your ass.”

Another laugh from Autumn, and even I crack a smile at that one. He’s less pushy than the last asshole, I’ll give him that.

He turns his attention my way. “Oh, and we even got a smile out of you.” He taps his cup against mine just like Autumn did. “To saying yes, right?”

I hum noncommittally, but take another sip of beer, the bitterness filling my mouth once more. This isn’t my first beer, but I definitely haven’t had it enough to have acquired a taste for it, and this is grosser than what Cal gave me over the summer. He was bored one weekend while we were both home and took me out one night to the old hiking trails we frequented growing up. He said he felt it was his duty as my big brother to help me learn my tolerance limits for alcohol in a safe space after finding out I hadn’t drunk at all during my freshman year. Since he turned twenty-one last March, he’s taken the time to explore all the various beer options to find out which ones are best. No sense wasting calories on swill if he can get something better, he says.

Having not tasted the swill before now, I can see his point. He’d also bought a few hard ciders and hard lemonades for me to taste a few different things, so I know I get loose and relaxed after one and a little closer to tipsy by two, but I’m not sure I could handle two cups of this stuff. But I seem to be the only one bothered, because new frat guy and Autumn are drinking theirs and chatting away, while I’m standing here contemplating how much drinking is worth to me while surveying the party for … I’m not sure what. Something to do? Someone I know?

And that’s when my gaze snags on a recognizable face. It’s Jackson Lancaster, my brother’s friend that he brought home that first Thanksgiving. I bumped into him once or twice last year. He’s almost as good of friends with Cal as Simon is. Which means …

I let out a loud groan when Cal comes into view behind his friend. Dammit.

“Autumn, we need to go,” I announce.

Autumn leans around the guy still standing between us and frowns at me. “What? Why?”

Instead of answering, I just fling my arm in my brother’s direction. Right now he’s fully clothed and surrounded by a group of guys—who I assume are his teammates—with a few girls buzzing around the edges like honeybees. But if he strips down to get in the hot tub? I’ll have to pass out to prevent myself from converting that into my long-term memory banks.

“Oh, hey. Isn’t that your brother?” Autumn says, like it’s no big deal that Cal is here.

Frat guy looks between the group of football players and me, his brow wrinkling. “Which one?”

“Cal McAdam,” Autumn supplies helpfully. “Right there.”

Frat guy looks between Cal and me again. “You’re McAdam’s little sister?”

I shrug and nod, irritation at being known almost exclusively by that appellation for most of high school flooding through me. “Yeah.” For a while, his friends all just called me Little McAdam. I didn’t even merit a first name, apparently.

He looks at Cal once more, then back to me, his forehead smoothing as he smiles again. “Nice to meet you, Baby McAdam. I have to say, you’re a lot hotter than I’d expect Cal’s little sister to be.”

I can’t help the combination of grimace and snort at both the comment and the fact that his choice of nickname is so close to the one I had just a few short years ago. “It’s Ellie, not Baby. And what? Did you expect a smaller version of Cal but with boobs?”

His eyes dip to my boobs and linger there for just a moment before returning to my face. He gives me an unrepentant smile and lifts a shoulder. “I guess so. How fortunate for me that I was very,verywrong.”

“Uh-huh.” I sip my drink. “Yes. So fortunate for you,” I deadpan.

Autumn smirks. “Why does Cal being here have to ruin our night out?”

Is it really Cal that’s going to ruin the night, though? Is it? Because things haven’t exactly gotten off to a rocking start from my point of view anyway. But I keep that thought to myself.

Instead, I shake my head. “You know how he is. If he sees me here, he’ll freak and insist I leave.”

That has Frat Guy’s forehead wrinkling again. “Your brother might be some big shot quarterback—though let’s be real, he’s not such a big shot now that Grayson Kilpatrick’s here—” Now there’s a burn for my brother. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all. “But this is an Omega Nu party, and he’s not a brother, so he can’t make you leave if you don’t want to. You want me to get him kicked out? Because I can.”

I wrinkle my nose as I consider his offer. Do I want him to kick Cal out of the party? It would be nice if I didn’t have to worry about him being here, but if he figures out thatI’mthe one responsible for getting him, and maybe even his friends, booted from a party, that’s not going to do anything to make life easier for me in the long run.

I shake my head. “No, that’s not necessary. But …” Biting my lip, I look around at the party, at Autumn, then back at my brother who doesn’t appear to have noticed me. Sighing, I sip my beer and turn my back on where my brother is. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. I don’t need anyone to make a scene on my behalf. Cal hasn’t even noticed I’m here. If we can keep it that way, he won’t try to make me leave, and we won’t have a problem.”

Frat Guy, whose eyes are now serious and showing no signs of having had too much to drink, examines me closely. “You’re sure?” I nod once decisively, and that twinkle comes back in his eyes. “Well, then, why don’t we head inside to keep you out of your brother’s way?”

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