Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Like what?”
“Boyfriends. Exclusive. Sorry. If you’re really worried about Rayne thinking you cheated on him, you can tell him. But only him.”
I chew my lower lip. “We aren’t exclusive, and we aren’t boyfriends. Why the fuck am I telling you all of this? Oliver, why not just write your own secret about how goddamn perfect your dick is, or something?”
“I’m going to. But if it’s just one piece of paper that’s about me, then people will catch on that it’s me trying to pump up my own image. If there are two secrets about me, though? That’s the start of a rumor.”
“Why do you want this image anyway?”
He gives me a purposeful stare.
And I can see a flicker of hunger in his eyes.
“Because I’m a virgin, and I’m sick of it. It needs to change.”
I click my tongue. “I thought you were the one who was so focused on honesty. You want to start a false rumor, though?”
“Because it isn’t false. I fucking know I’ll be good in bed.”
I can’t help but commend the guy for his certainty.
He sure seems like he believes in himself.
“How?”
He groans, looking up at the lanterns above us and shaking his head. “Because I’m the most sexually frustrated person in the universe. I’ve wanted to fuck since I knew what fucking was. I want to fuck girls. I want to fuck guys. But I can barely make conversation about the weather, let alone translate a conversation into sex.”
I bite back a smile.
Liquor does very interesting things to a shy guy, and Oliver is apparently no exception.
“You seem pretty good at talking right now, frosh.”
He sighs. “This is different. I’m drunk, I have a clear goal, and you’re the perfect person to help me with it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you’re not afraid of anything, as far as I can tell. You do whatever you want.”
“Thanks, Ollie.”
He’s looking over at the crowd at the fair now, and I can sense the years of built-up tension inside him.
“I know I’ll be a good fuck,” he says softly. “I want to see the look in someone’s eyes when I make them feel good. When I give them exactly what they want. I want to worship someone, because nothing in the world gets me off like that does.”
From the way he’s talking, he probably will be good in bed.
“Whoever gets you will be lucky, freshman,” I tell him. “I mean it when I say that you can’t tell a soul about what you heard in my bedroom, though.”
“Scout’s fucking honor, Hunter,” he tells me. “Won’t tell a goddamn soul.”
I give him a little shove. “Now get out of here. I’ll write a damn secret about you. Don’t worry, your big virgin cock will be getting action in no time.”
The thankful look on his face is the dictionary definition of adorkable, and I shake my head as I watch him make his way back out into the crowd.
Crimson College is cutthroat, and the secret societies can make it even more so.
Ollie has no idea what his next four years are going to bring, but I know one thing for sure. He will make someone very, very satisfied one day.
Over in the crowd, Rayne, Wes, Noah, and Roman are now gathered around a stand where people can win Crimson College tank tops.
Rayne’s looking down at his phone, though.
I watch him for a while, as he bobs his head to the music. He keeps pulling out his phone anytime there’s a spare moment, and otherwise, he gets pulled along through the stalls by Weston and Noah.
When I slide my phone out a few minutes later, I realize why.
I have more than a few texts waiting for me.
All from Rayne.
Are you even coming to the lantern fair?
Or are you too good for normal things like that?
You just always have to be special, don’t you?
It’s clear that Oliver wasn’t the only one getting courage in the form of strong liquor tonight.
The first three texts all came ten minutes ago, in rapid succession. But there’s one more, from only a minute ago.
I miss you.
A slow satisfaction spreads through me when I read that last text.
Can’t believe you’d admit that.
I watch from my place at the tree as Rayne pulls out his phone, messaging me back.
Where are you?
You need to know my whereabouts all the time now?
You clearly fucking know mine.
You’re welcome for the protection, king. If anyone comes at you, they’re dead.
You actually *are* here, aren’t you? Goddamnit, Hunter.
He slides his phone back into his pocket and suddenly his head is craning around as he looks all over for me. He doesn’t find me in the crowd, and then he takes off, heading behind the stalls.
I pull out my phone, looking down at the screen to tap out another message.
You’re not going to find me.
But right as I hit send, I see movement beside me and for the second time tonight, I feel like a cat with a raised back.