Page 56 of Palm South University: Season 2

“You know what I love about these hats?” my Little asks me as we slide up to the bar. “They hide the effects of drinking in Florida.” She lifts the snapback, revealing her crazy, slightly damp red hair underneath it. I laugh and tip mine up, showing the same hot mess beneath.

“And they’re perfect for selfies,” I add, pulling my phone from my pocket. I slide the camera icon up and flip the lens, my cheek touching Cassie’s as I push the shutter button.

“Love it!”

“We need one with the whole group,” I say, looking around for someone I could flirt into taking the photo for us.

“I can take that for you,” a southern voice twangs from behind me. When I turn, ready to hand my phone to a stranger, I stop mid-pass. Key West is crawling with attractive men right now, especially fraternity brothers, but this one just might take the cake. His dark blonde hair is hidden beneath an orange University of Tennessee hat, his teal-green eyes bright even in the dark bar. The first thing I notice is how his smile is almost too big for his face, but in the most charming way. His jaw is wide-set, his face clean-shaven, his body thin but toned. I don’t even care that he’s watching as my eyes scan him from head to toe and back up again.

“Go Vols,” I say, cocking a brow and finally handing him my phone. Then, I turn back to the bar and shout out, “Get together, everyone!”

We’re all a little past drunk at this point, so it takes a minute to get everyone paying attention and lined up in a way that doesn’t hide any faces. Hot Tennessee Guy takes several pictures, of which I’m sure only one is social media appropriate, before we all disperse and he slides the phone back into my hand.

“I’m Trevor,” he says, holding the phone between our hands for a moment.

“Trevor from Tenneesee.”

He nods, blushing slightly. I can’t stop staring at his All-American features.

“Skyler, from Florida.”

Trevor releases my hand and crosses his arms over his chest, his glorious arm muscles on full display. “You’re a little far from home, huh?”

I chuckle. “A whole five hours.”

“Well, I guess I’m lucky you decided to stay in your home state for Spring Break.”

“Who said you’re getting lucky?” I ask, crossing my arms to mirror him.

He shrugs. “The universe. When I happened to walk through that door over there as soon as you started scanning the room for trouble.”

“I see. So, Trevor, the trouble from Tennessee, what now?”

“Now,” he says, voice thick with a southern accent as he takes his place at the bar next to me. “I buy you a shot.”

A smile finds my lips just as Ashlei hops up on the bar behind Trevor. I shout out her name, beating my fists on the bar, and everyone else joins in once they realize what’s happening. The coyote girls are inviting other girls up on the bar to join them for a dance, but whenPour Some Sugar On Mestarts playing and Ashlei whips out moves that put every single other girl to shame, all of our jaws drop. She’s owning the hairography, dropping down to her knees on the bar and crawling across it, even going as far as kissing Bo for show. The guys, of course, go absolutely ape shit at that. When she bites her bottom lip, swollen from her kiss with Bo, and turns around to twerk, the entire bar erupts in a frenzy. All I can do is shake my head — that girl is full of surprises.

“Looks like you found the sexiest girls in Key West,” a guy says to Trevor with a similar accent, clapping him on the back. I assume it’s one of his brothers, especially as more of them filter in around us.

“You read my mind,” Trevor agrees, holding out a liquid cocaine shot to me. I take it between my fingers with a wink before turning back to my sisters.

“Hey KKB! This handsome man just bought me a shot!”

All of my sisters in the bar cry out before starting a low, rumbling “Ohhh” that stretches out into the beginning of one of our chants.

Take a shot, take a shot, take a goddamn shot!

If you can’t take a shot like a KKB can,

Then you shouldn’t have a fucking shot in your hand!

Take a shot, take a shot, take a goddamn shot!

Everyone cheers and Trevor and I knock back the Jager and Bicardi 151 concoction. When we slam the glasses back on the bar, I use my thumb to wipe my bottom lip, my eyes finding his brothers all gaping behind him.

“Buckle up, boys.”