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“Ash, didn’t you text them?” I ask.
“I did.”
Jason, one of our Alpha Theta Mu bros, rushes the crowd, arms high over his head as he hollers, leading the charge, reminding me that I really do have the best frat.
I turn back to Ty, unable to keep myself from looking at his lips, thinking how close they were that morning. How hot his body was, pressed up against mine. He’s still got that sparkle in his eyes, like he’s thinking about it too.
And as our fellow frats get the crowd going wild, I whisper, “Try not to get too excited.”
His smirk expands into a smile, and as frustrated as I was with him when I first arrived, now there’s a rush. Partly because I feel clever. Partly because I have one over on him.
And partly because there’s something fun about sharing this secret.
2
Ty
Afew yardsaway, Ryan, my friend and fellow Sigma Alpha, blindfolded and holding in his hand a spoon with an egg on it, walks on his knees toward a table set up for flip cup. I stand in a circle with guys from other frats, waiting for him to tag me so I can continue to the next part of the course.
Not every TaskFrat Challenge is an obstacle course, but they’re the easiest to start the year with. Each frat develops its own challenges, which are voted on by the committee before we organize them to ensure they gradually increase in difficulty throughout.
Lance’s friend Ash isn’t far behind Ryan.
“We’re right on your asses,” Lance says from beside me.
I glare at him, then glance lower, getting a look at his tight cheeks in that G-string. Since he arrived at the park, I’ve been impressed he hadn’t backed down. He and his guys could have easily driven off as soon as they realized we set them up to look like fools. Or he could have gotten out of that car, acting humbled and embarrassed, but instead he held his head high and absorbed all the laughter and mockery. Lance Fehn has always had a way of impressing me—not that I’ll ever tell him that.
“Like what you see?” Lance teases as he catches me still looking at his ass.
“Thinking I should have found something less flattering on you, is all. I’ve already noticed girls checking that ass out since you got here. Have a feeling you’ll be cleaning up at the afters.”
“The only one I notice checking out my ass is you.”
“I’ve kind of already had you, so…”
Our gazes meet again, both of us surely thinking about our little secret. The thing that must be on his mind as much as it’s on my mind whenever we see each other.
It happened last May, after Lance and I got trashed at an Omega Psi party, which was really our big mistake. Omega Psi is known for being wild—we’ve had to discipline them for a few of their pranks and for hazing the year before last. They were also fined after their prank against Lance and me, when we woke up the morning after the party, naked and bound together in stretch wrap, facing one another. Embarrassing as fuck for me since, on top of having a hell of a hangover, Lance thought there was a rock wedged between us.
Only it wasn’t a rock. It was my morning wood. An interesting predicament for our straight asses.
“You didn’t have me, just to be clear,” Lance says.
“I definitely marked you, didn’t I?”
When we were trying to escape our predicament, despite my hard-on, we did our best to navigate the situation. We weren’t careful enough, though, and before either of us knew it, I shot all over the guy.
Lance chuckles, again glancing around, though I’m careful whenever I bring it up not to say anything that would clue anyone in.
“I told you not to,” he insists.
“I told you to stop squirming.”
“I was trying to get out.”
“You got something out, didn’t you?” I say, and his faceturns bright red. I’m so proud of myself for making it that shade. “I notice it still makes you blush when I bring it up,” I tease, loving every second of it. Wild because at the time, I thought it would be the thing I’d never live down. But now it’s our fun dirty secret.
A few hollers catch our attention.