Page 25 of Corrupt Me

“I do,” she said, pursing her lips. “But this isn’t about me. I can’t control your heart. Although, I do question why your taste in men is so limited. You really need to date outside the Malone family.”

My chin lifted, a smirk pulling at the corners of my lips. “Maybe I will.”

“Fuck, yes. About damn time. We’re so going out tonight,” she declared, swinging an arm around my shoulder.

I groaned internally. A party had not been what I had in mind. “It’s your first night,” I practically whined. “And we have so much to unpack,” I argued. “Plus, we need to go to admissions and request a new room. We can’t stay here.”

Her gray eyes twinkled. Nothing good happened when she got that look in her eyes. “Normally, I would agree with you, but I have a feeling about this place. We should stay,” she said. Sam didn’t think about the future. She lived for the now. Nothing was as important as what was happening at that exact moment.

If we stayed, we wouldn’t be able to request a new place when shit went south, and crap would definitely go down with Tristan and Sam under the same roof. “I have a bad feeling, Sam. You and Tristan?”

“Contrary to popular belief, Tristan isn’t the only man on the planet. Have you met anyone other than Tristan?” she asked, following me to the elevator.

I shook my head. “Not yet.” I didn’t mention the girl Tristan had his tongue down yesterday. “Oh, I did meet Marissa, our resident adviser,” I added.

Sam rolled her eyes.

When we got to the third floor, I remembered that Sam and I had our separate rooms. We wouldn’t be sharing as we thought. At least not bedrooms. The bathroom was another story. I stopped at the door marked 3C. “Do you have your key?”

Sam nodded, dangling the silver ring on her index finger. “Yeah. I grabbed it from the office before coming over. Is this it?”

I made a grand sweeping gesture over her door. “Yup. This is your room.”

“You mean our room,” she corrected with a smile, putting the key in and turning the lock.

Toying with my bracelet, I replied, “Uh, not exactly. My room is next door. The one in the corner. 3B.”

Sam glanced over her shoulder before stepping inside and blinked at me. “I have my own room?”

I gave her a sheepish look. “It appears that way.”

“Who did you fuck?”

I rolled my eyes. She and I both knew the answer to that. No one, seeing as I was a virgin. “Classy,” I retorted, scrunching my nose. I was used to Sam saying the first thing on her mind. “It was Tristan,” I joked, heavy on the sarcasm.

Without missing a beat, she retorted, “You slept with Tristan? And you’re just now telling me. I thought we were friends.”

“Funny,” I dryly replied. “He’s the one who arranged for us to live here, remember?”

Her lips pressed together in a line. “Of course, it was him.” She shoved the door fully open, her eyes surfing the room. It was a typical college room. Still nicer than the dorms I imagined. At least the ones I’d seen online and during our campus tour.Besides, once Sam got her stamp into this place, it would be completely transferred. No doubt half the shit in her car was to decorate the space to her taste just like her dark personality. I could bet my college tuition her dorm room would be decked out in black and enough candles, crystals, and sage to hold a séance by the end of the week.

“Are you mad?” I asked, slowly following her inside.

“That Tristan upgraded our rooms without telling us? Or that you and I won’t be sleeping in the same room?”

“Both,” I said, padding over to the bare mattress, plopping down, and tucking my legs into a pretzel.

She went to the closet, pulled open the doors, and inspected the size. “If you want me to be mad, then I’m pissed as hell. I’ll always have your back.” It must have met her approval because she joined me on the bed. “Now tell me what the fuck happened.”

Where the hell did I start? With the blackmail? Why I had to break up with Preston? That I wasn’t all that upset about the breakup now that she was here? Or that Tristan kept taking photos of me in compromising positions? The last was my personal favorite.

I’d never kept anything from Sam, and yet, something held me back from spilling all the tea. Why? What was it? Was I ashamed?

As I chewed my lower lip, I realized I had to tell someone, but because I knew Sam, I had to have her word she wouldn’t do or say anything. That would be nearly impossible for her. Holding back was not Sam’s forte. “If I tell you what’s been going on, you have to promise me it doesn’t leave this room. Not until I get some answers.”

“I was curious before. Now I will strangle you if you don’t tell me.”

“Promise, Sam. You can’t repeat a single word,” I reiterated the importance.

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