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Another goat shows up with his booty, and Knox returns the bag before heading over to check. When he’s far enough away, Reagan punches me in the arm and hisses, “What the fuck, Hansen, you almost blew my cover.”

I shrug. “I guess the sight of your tits multiple times tonight threw me off.”

Even in the dim light, I can see her cheeks turn pink and I wonder how far that color travels down her body. The thought of seeing her naked, feeling her, sets my own body on fire. I pull out my half-drunk bottle of whiskey and unscrew the cap. I swallow a huge gulp and relish the burn spreads through my body. If we were back at the farm, I could command her to go back to my room and work off this boner. But we’re out in the open—dozens of brothers and recruits around. Everyone here thinks she’s a guy.

I’m stuck with a hard-on and a belly full of liquor.

I scan the area and see a group of freshly minted sorority girls on the other side of the bonfire. Those are the girls I’m looking for.

The bottles clink together when I shove the bag at Reagan. “Go put those with the others and have a good time. You earned it.” She clutches the bag but doesn’t move. I stare at those red lips and swallow down another gulp. “Go.”

“Thanks,” she says, “for helping me through that.” She spreads her arms. “All of it, really.”

My jaw clenches and I remind myself she’s just a goat, a fake one at that, one that’s a means to an end. “Don’tthank me,” I tell her. “Get the fuck out of here.”

If I’ve hurt her feelings, she’s gotten better at hiding it. I cut my eyes away as she heads over to the bar.

When her back is turned, I look at her again, knowing a tight ass is hiding under those baggy jeans. It’s harder this time to drag my eyes away, but I shift my focus on the sweet things across the sand, prepared to do whatever it takes to get Reagan Lake out of my mind.

17

Reagan

After handing over the bottles to Rat behind the bar, I pick up one of the already poured cups and take a small sip. Gah. Awful.

“That’s quite the haul, forty-seven.”

I brace myself before I turn to face Royer. He’s leaning against the makeshift bar, reading the label on one of the bottles. The clerk was so stunned at me flashing him that he’d handed over a bottle of top shelf without realizing it.

I’ve never seen so many tit-matized men, and one woman, in my life. Thank God Grayson would be on the other side of that video—and it doesn’t record sound.

“Guess I got lucky.”

He opens a bottle and fills his red cup halfway to the top. “Seems like a trend with you.”

I can’t help but gape. “You think watching twelve guys jerk off was lucky?”

He swirls the liquid and takes a sip. “You didn’t have to drink it, which is what I had planned.”

Behind me, Rat barks out a laugh. It’s not surprising that Royer admits this. He’s never been one to hide his motivations. I was just too dumbstruck to realize it applied to me as well.

“But I guess it makes sense you’d be pretty good at rubbing one out.” A dark flicker crosses his eyes. “I talked to Brianna. She said you were quite the gentleman, even when she offered up her pussy to you.”

“Just didn’t seem like the right thing to do,” I say. “Anyway, I like my women coherent when I fuck them.”

A slow smirk tugs at his mouth. “I think you’re still a virgin. Don’t you, Rat?”

“Oh, definitely.” Rat mixes drinks and pours them into orange cups. These he hands to a few girls that walked up behind me. “How about it, ladies?” he grins at them and nods in my direction. “Either of you willing to help this goat finally become a man?”

I’m obviously not a virgin. The man smiling like a douche next to me is the one that had the honor of popping my cherry, but I still feel humiliated and belittled from Rat’s obnoxious tone and the girl’s critical gaze. It’s like… they’re considering it. They’ve been put on the spot too by this powerful Zeta Sig, and moments like this can make or break a sorority girl. Are you game? Fun? Discerning?

“Eh,” Rat says, cutting the tension, “don’t worry about him. I’ve got someone special picked out just for him.”

Relief crosses their features, while confusion must mar mine. I clutch my cup and notice Rat staring across the beach. There’s a girl standing alone. She looks out of place, from her clothing to her makeup. She’s holding an orange cup and when the firelight flickers in the bonfire it catches the purple highlights in her hair. My stomach flips anxiously, but it’s not until she turns her head to the side and I see her profile, that I know for sure.

Janelle.

“I’ve been working on this one all week,” he declares, more to Royer than me. “Hates frats and sororities. Thinks she’s better than us. I’ve spent hours wearing her down and convincing her that not all of us are the same. What do you think?”