Page 24 of Corrupt Me

Rolling off me, he stood, towering over me as I just lay there feeling used and bewildered. “You’re staying put, Ever,” he stated, finality ringing in his tone, and strode toward the door.

Tristan Malone was a son of a bitch.

“You can’t keep doing this to me,” I hollered at his back, not giving a shit what time of the night it was. He kept walking, ignoring me, so I grabbed the nearest thing I could find, my book from the nightstand, and I hurled it after him because this wasn’t over.

It was far from fucking over.

The door shut with a definite click as the paperback hit the wood with a thump, falling to the floor. Silence followed except for the hammering of my pissed-off heart.

How could someone be so gentle, so kind, and such a dick all at once? That was the only way to sum up Tristan.

ten

Ithrew my arms around Sam the moment she stepped out of the car. “You’re here,” I squealed, putting on a smile for my best friend as I banished all thoughts of last night. At least for a little bit. I needed to give my mind a mental break.

Sam hugged me back. “And ready to fucking party,” she sang, excitement shimmering in her winter-gray eyes. We jumped in an excited circle on the side of the street, hugging for another minute as we basked in the glow of beginning a new chapter together.

Standing on the curb, she scanned the house behind me, squinting against the already hot sun shining down over her aqua hair. She wore a pair of tattered black fishnet stockings, a short skater skirt, and a graphic tee also in black. From head to toe, she was so Sam. “This doesn’t look like the dorm in the picture,” she commented, brows bunching in confusion.

I turned so we were shoulder to shoulder, staring at the housing for upperclassmen. “Because it’s not,” I replied, my conversation with Tristan last night popping into my head. Would Dean Harris really deny my request? Was it worth the risk to find out? Then I remembered the stupid picture Tristanhad taken last night and frowned. Shaking my head, I looped my hand through Sam’s arm and said, “We need to talk.”

She lifted a single brow, angling her head slightly to the side in my direction to study me. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Do you want to know before or after we unload your car?” I asked.

She glanced behind her at the used Mazda packed with shit. Far more crap than she needed, but Sam liked to be prepared for every impromptu situation that might come her way. She was also a bit of a hoarder with things like makeup, clothes, shoes, purses, and accessories, and she was messy as hell. Having her as a roommate would be maddening but never dull.

I couldn’t wait. I was so ready for some of my best friend’s craziness to add color to my world. For the last six months, my life had been nothing but shades of gray. Occasionally a glimmer of pink, blue, red, and yellow would peek through but never long enough to make a permanent impact.

Grief could be all-consuming. It could shut out all those feelings you took for granted and only let in the ones that crippled you. That’s how I would have described the first month after my mother’s death—crippling.

My father had been no better—worse even. It had been Sam, Preston, and even Tristan in his own way, who had helped me get out of bed, who pulled me back into the world, who made me want to start living again.

And now, I only had Sam.

It didn’t matter that Tristan lived in the same house as me. He was the enemy now, and I still didn’t know why. What had I done to make him want to toy with me, especially after everything I’d been through? There were nights when Preston hadn’t been around. When I had gone to the Malones’ home to find Preston but found Tristan instead. Those nights I’d never been more vulnerable. Something about Tristan crumbled mywalls. He could see past the forced smiles and the fake automatic responses. See the pain and hurt I tried desperately to keep at bay.

I knew if I called Preston the first thing he would do was try to convince me we should get back together. Right now, I had to keep my distance from him…and Tristan it seemed.

“Tell me now,” Sam quickly answered. “You know I can’t wait. Show me our room, and let’s get to the dirt. The car will be here later.” She waved a dismissive hand to the Mazda.

We stepped inside Thorn Hall, and Sam gasped. “You’ve got to be shitting me. We’re living here for the year? God, Ever, sometimes I think the best thing that happened to me was befriending you.”

I laughed. Sam and I hadn’t been instant friends. It had taken a few incidences before we grew on each other. And now, I couldn’t imagine having a better friend. Sam was fucking loyal to a fault. She didn’t have an agenda. She didn’t give a shit that I came from money or lived in a big house. Money had never been a factor in our friendship, but that didn’t mean Sam didn’t appreciate the benefits.

As I stood beside her with a scowl, an image of Tristan in my room last night flashed behind my eyes. “I didn’t do this,” I corrected.

Her expression turned confused as she glanced at me. “Then how? Did they run out of space at the dorms?” It was a rational explanation. Why else would two freshmen end up in a house for upperclassmen?

I snorted. “Hardly. I have two words for you. Tristan Malone.”

It didn’t sink in right away, but I saw the second it did. Her gaze narrowed. “Tristan’s here. Fucking Tristan? As in the Malone brother you’ve wanted to bang since you were like thirteen?”

That should be his nickname.Fucking Tristan. “Yes,” I sighed, annoyed at the naive girl crush reminder.

“Why is this a bad thing? You’re no longer dating his brother, and you still haven’t told me what happened between you two.” She grinned with a wicked lift of her brow. “All is fair in love and war.”

The thing was, it did feel like a war between Tristan and me. “I thought you despised him.”

---