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Chapter Two

Jemma

M y stomach clenches in nervous anticipation of our next team-building assignment. It’s creepy quiet in the house. None of the girls at my sides appear to be breathing. Their backs are straight, hands at their sides, just as terrified as me.

Abby flashes a wicked smile at my pledge class. “Ladies, I have another mission for you.”

My older sister stands next to Abby Gale, the Kappa Delta president. Jordan beams with excitement, her smile so bright it should put me at ease. But it doesn’t.

Jordan glances in my direction, her eyes the same mossy green as mine. We’re separated by one year and have our mother’s red hair and pale skin. She gives me a look that says good luck, and nerves bubble up inside my chest.

“I know some of you think we’re making you do these things to embarrass you,” Abby says. “But I promise that’s not the case. All of us went through the same thing when we were pledges. These exercises will help you bond with each other and teach you how to work together.”

Abby tucks a loose curl behind her ear and clears her throat. “At noon sharp, we’re having a scavenger hunt, ladies. You’ll start on Greek Row and end at the Quad. Don’t let anyone fall behind, or all of you fail the mission.”

A few girls echo their dissatisfaction. I don’t make a sound. What’s the point? Our tasks so far have been pointless, and this one is no different.

I transferred to Strickland University in my junior year to make new friends and try new things. But this isn’t what I had in mind when my sister begged me to join our mother’s sorority.

After Abby finishes her speech, Jordan pulls me aside.

“Don’t worry, Jem. You got this.”

I lean into her and whisper, “How much more of this do we have to endure?”

“Not much.” Jordan cups my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I promise.”

“I hope so.”

“Try not to overthink it and have fun. Remember why you transferred to Strick U.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod.

T hree hours later, I haul ass through the Quad with my pledge class. Sweat slides down my forehead, and my clothes stick to my body. My hair is matted to my forehead. I look like a wet animal and probably smell like one, too.

Starting at the fraternity houses, we had to collect random items on our scavenger hunt list. We worked as a team, some items more challenging than others.

It was easy getting guys to hand over dumb shit like Magnum condoms and boxer briefs.

Stealing—borrowing—one of the fraternity’s mascots was more of an issue, but we made a deal with the brothers.

I run across the grass next to Zoe and Riley, the two girls I have bonded with most in my pledge class. They laugh and point at guys across the lawn from us. We must take a selfie with a hot guy for our final task. Bonus points if he’s popular or plays a sport.

Buildings surround us on four sides, boasting a massive water fountain at the courtyard’s center. The Quad is a popular hangout for a lot of students. The building to my right has a large placard that reads Penn Hall, and to my left, Jefferson Hall, respectively, the junior and senior dormitories.

I live in Penn Hall. But I have spent little time there since I accepted my bid. Between school and sorority duties, I hardly sleep. I eat between breaks or on my way to class. The last month has been a nonstop rollercoaster of coordinated events.

Jordan waits with our sorority sisters by Jefferson Hall, their eyes burning a hole through us from across the lawn.

The Quad is bustling at this hour, packed with at least a hundred students hurrying along the walkways to their next class.

Others are lounging on the grass while some shirtless guys are playing football.

Organizations set up booths on one side of the lawn, where students hand out flyers.

Running alongside fourteen other girls, I focus on the task. And I find my target. I lock eyes with a tall, gorgeous man with muscles for days. He smiles at me, and I take that as my cue.

I stop in front of him, my lips inches from his. “I need a favor.”

His beautiful blue eyes travel over the length of my body. “What’s in it for me, Red?”

“Red?” I clench my teeth. “Don’t call me that.”

He twists a lock of my hair between his fingers. “Beautiful. How about that?”

The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen thinks I’m beautiful. Okay, maybe I hate him a little less than I did a few seconds ago. But I’m not cool with anyone calling me Red.

His blond hair is so light it looks bleached. But it’s natural, his eyelashes and eyebrows are the same color. A dimple on his right cheek creases his sun-kissed skin. He’s beautiful, even though I know that’s not the right word to describe a man. Handsome doesn’t even cover it.

Tiny bumps run down my arms and legs, a strange effect I wasn’t expecting. Heat courses over my body in waves. He stares at me with so much intensity my cheeks flush. My nipples are like hardened peaks poking right at him and saying hello.

My body wants him.

Craves him, even.

He notices his effect on me because popular guys like him never skip a beat.

He looks like a player who goes through women faster than he changes his socks.

He carries himself like he owns the world.

By the looks of him, he’s probably rich.

Even in sporty clothes, he appears polished and stinks of entitlement and privilege.

Now aware of my body and how it reacts to him, I need an escape.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” His voice is so smooth and sexy that it sends a shiver down my arms. He extends his hand for me to shake. “I’m Trent.”

His fingers close around mine, making my hand seem tiny in comparison. He’s well over six feet tall, broad-shouldered, and perfectly toned. In a pair of mesh shorts that hang low from his narrow waist and a fitted tee, which shows off his thick biceps, Trent is a walking wet dream.

He gives me a curious look. “And you are?” Trent releases his grip on my hand. “Have we met before? You don’t look familiar… and I know almost everyone on campus.”

He has the body of an athlete. My ex played football in high school, but even in his prime, he never looked like Trent, whose legs are solid muscle, sculpted to perfection.

I’m staring too hard, to the point Trent notices and smiles.

More like smirks. Because isn’t that what guys who look like him do?

They’re all wicked smirks and killer looks.

“No, I’m new. Just transferred.” I hold out my hand for him to shake, this time less nervous than before. “I’m Jemma.”

Trent smiles so wide it reaches his eyes.

His fingers brush against mine, creating a shock of electricity that skates along my skin.

I bet every girl with a pulse has this reaction to him.

Even my stupid body is a traitor, and I’m not the type to lose my shit over a guy I just met. But I want to know more about Trent.

“You have the same name as the mom from Sons of Anarchy ,” he says, which I have heard dozens of times.

“Yeah, except my name starts with a J instead of a G.”

“Jemma with a J,” he says. “I won’t forget it.”

“Anyway,” I say. “I need a favor, or I’ll fail the last part of my assignment.” Biting my lip, I struggle to find the words. “I… um…”

He wiggles his eyebrows, a playful smile forming. “What could you possibly want from me?”

Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I look away from him. “A kiss.”

He laughs, though it’s not at my expense. “Let me guess. You’re in the middle of the Kappa Delta scavenger hunt.”

“How did you know?”

“Every guy on campus knows about it.”

“I have to kiss a hot jock.”

He smirks. “You’ve found me.”

“So?” I rock back and forth to steady my nerves. “Will you kiss me?”

“What do I get in return?”

“A kiss from me. Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s a start,” he says in a sexy tone. “We should hang out. I’m going to the Delta Sig beach party on Saturday night. You should come with me.”

I blush ten shades of pink from my cheeks to my neck, distracted by his handsome face. He wants to see me again.

I blurt out, “How about a rain check? I have sorority duties this weekend.”

Trent seems disappointed with my response but recovers quickly. “Sure. Rain check. But if you change your mind, come by the Delta Sig house around eleven.”

I remove my cell phone from my pocket and slide my hand up his thick chest. “How about that kiss?”

He slides his arm behind my back, molding my chest to his. Standing on my toes, I remove my cell phone from my pocket and hook my arms around his neck. He breathes against my lips, brushing them with his tongue.

Trent parts my lips with his tongue like he wants to conquer me.

It’s like he needs the next kiss to survive.

He drains the air from my lungs, my heart pounding so hard I can hardly catch my breath as our tongues collide.

I snap a picture with my camera phone and peel my lips from his, struggling to get my bearings.

Mission accomplished .

“I have to go.” I shove my cell phone into my pocket. “Thanks for playing along.”

He shrugs, drawing my attention to his massive biceps that would take at least three of my hands to wrap around.

“Anytime. I hope to see you around, Jemma with a J.”