Page 2 of Level Up

“What if a rim job’s exactly what I was going for?” I asked, turning around so I could see Mr. Green Eyes’ reaction.

His lips curved into a sexy smirk. He wore an FU rowing shirt, purple and gold, with a pair of white shorts that revealed a black-and-white snake tattoo wrapping around his thigh. Music pumped through stereos the size of tiny elephants, rattling my ribs. Or was that the hundred thousand monarch butterflies currently slapping their wings against my heart and lungs?

I worried that if I opened my mouth, they’d all flutter out at once.

“Damn, bro, in that case, then let’s forget about the game and go play with ourselves.”

I nearly tipped right over. “I, um…” This wasn’t like me. I was rarely ever at a loss for words. Usually, I was loaded up with sass and sarcasm.

“Ryan!”

My beer pong instructor looked over my shoulder at the opposing team.

“Come on, man, if you win this game, then you’re an automatic pledge. Let’s gooooo.”

Ah, so he wasn’t a brother yet. Interesting. And his name was Ryan. Damn, I was in more trouble than I thought. That was a hot name. All the Ryans I’d been with were hung like horses and, more importantly, knew how to use the tools they were blessed with.

And this Ryan was no different, judging by what I felt moments earlier when he rubbed up against my back.

“Want to jump in with me?” Ryan asked.

Tempting, even though all I really wanted to do was jump on him. I glanced at my wristwatch, the dark green face lighting up. “I was heading out, actually. This really isn’t my vibe.”

“Then let me walk out with you,” he said. He casually tossed the Ping-Pong ball behind his back. The ball bounced on one cup and landed in another. The opposing team tried to finger the ball out of the cup but it didn’t work. He made the shot.

I arched a brow, impressed.

“I play a lot of sports and video games,” he said. “It’s sharpened my reflexes.”

All right, what the hell was going on? This guy was hot, had sexy biceps and a friendly smile, and he played video games? He had to be some kind of trap. Either a straight guy who liked to fuck around orrr he was a serial killer. There was really no in-between, and I wasn’t in the mood to figure it out, either. My legs were sore from the gym earlier, and my guard was up around all these straight guys.

I should have stayed in my dorm watching Survivor and called it a night.

“Finish your game,” I said to the handsome guy with the big arms and perfect aim. “Maybe I’ll see you around campus.”

I started to walk through the drunk crowd, Ryan following behind me. “Hold up,” he said before placing an arm on my shoulder.

More sparks lit up the night, brighter than any amount of fireworks could.

“I didn’t get your name.”

“Joey. But everyone calls me Jay.”

His eyes opened wide, and he leaned in. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Jay,” I repeated myself. “My name is Jay.”

“Ohhhhhh.” He started to laugh, and damn it, the sound of his laugh was perfect. “I thought you said gay.”

I blinked a couple of times before I started to match his laughter. “No, but I am that too.”

“Then we have something in common.” His grin pinned me in place. Okay, so he wasn’t straight. That made him a serial killer. I had to go. Fast.

“Well, it’s great to meet you, Ryan. Hope you end up finding a good frat to rush.”

He looked around at the gathered crowd and shrugged. “Eh, I came out here for some booze and a good time. I’m not really interested in joining.”

One of the brothers nearby must have heard him. He whipped around and threw an arm across Ryan’s shoulders. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, did I hear that right? Ryan, you don’t want to rush Sigma?”

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