Page 8 of Wicked Games

Giggling, she catches it. “I feel like I should stick some dollar bills in your briefs.”

“Dollar bills?” I arch my eyebrow at her. “Did you forget what world you’re in?”

“My bad.” She bats her eyelashes at me. “Hundred-dollar bills.”

“That’s better.”

I’m just pushing my sweatpants down over my hips when the door to the room swings open and hits the wall with a loud bang.

Eden lets out a surprised squeal and whirls toward the door. I glance over at my stepbrother, sans guard dogs for once, as he strides into the room.

“Next time put a tie on the door.” Killian shoots me an irritated look. “I don’t need to be walking in on whatever the fuck you freaks are about to get up to.”

“I’m changing,” I say, making sure my tone is even and unbothered. “Nothing freaky about that.”

He may have caught me in nothing but my briefs, but I refuse to show him any sort of vulnerability or shame. This is my room too now, and I can change whenever I want.

“Then hurry the fuck up. No one wants to seethat,” he snipes and stalks over to his bed.

Eden catches my eye. “I want to see that,” she whispers.

I bite back a laugh and step into my slacks.

“I need the room tonight,” Killian says abruptly, his back to us as he rifles through his bedside table.

“Why?” I ask as I do up my pants.

“None of your business why.” He glares at me over his shoulder. “Just be scarce until midnight.”

“Fine.” I want to argue with him, but I don’t. I’ve learned to pick my battles over the years, and this isn’t worth fighting over.

Killian stops digging around in the drawer and shoves something in his pocket. Without another word, he stalks out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Rolling my eyes, I do up the buttons on my shirt. “And it’s only day one,” I mutter.

“It’s not fair that he’s so hot,” Eden says as I slip my feet into a pair of dress shoes. “Have you noticed that the hottest guys are always the biggest assholes?”

I slip my school ID and phone in my pockets. “That seems to be a trend here.”

“Why do you think they need the room tonight?” She slides off the bed and pushes her long braid over her shoulder.

“No clue. He said something about house business before he left earlier, so it’s probably related to that.”

“Do you ever wish that you were a member?” she asks in a hushed voice as we head toward the still-open door.

I let out an involuntary bark of laughter. “Not even for a second.”

Unlike most frats, the ones on campus are invite-only. There’s no rushing, and it takes a full year of hazing and proving your loyalty to get initiated into the frat. From what I’ve heard, less than two-thirds of the guys who are given the chance to join actually end up making it through and becoming full members.

None of that sounds even remotely appealing to me, and I’ve never been more grateful that my status as the stepkid of a founding legacy isn’t enough to get me an invite into the club.

She waits as I lock the door behind us. “Really? You don’t wonder what goes on in the Rebels and if the rumors are true?” she whispers.

“Nope.”

She shoots me a dubious look as we walk down the hall together. “You’re really not even a little curious?”

I shake my head. “Not in the slightest. Not my monkey, not my circus.”

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