Page 26 of Corrupt Me

She took note of the seriousness in my features. “You know I will always keep your secrets, Ever. The ones that count,” she amended after the glance I gave her.

Taking a breath, I began to unload it all. Starting with the night I had gone home with Tristan after the party and waking up in his bed. She, of course, had the right responses at the appropriate times, which consisted mostly of things like I knew he was a bastard, what a prick, and Tristan deserves to be roasted on a spit. I appreciated her vividness. By the time I had finished, Sam looked as if she was going to shove her boot up Tristan’s ass the first chance she got.

That worried me. I didn’t want him to know I’d told anyone.

“Fuck me. Are you kidding? Tristan? So, he’s the reason you broke up with Preston after all. I always assumed he would be the one to interfere in your relationship, but I figured it would be because you slept with him, not because he manipulated you.” She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes hardening. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” She moved to get off the bed, but I snagged her arm, pulling her back to the bed.

“You can’t. You promised,” I reminded, pleading with my eyes.

I could see the internal struggle in her eyes. She wanted to be a loyal friend, but she also wanted to protect me. “Ever, even though I never thought Preston was good for you, I don’t like the method Tristan is using. What’s his game?”

My head dropped as I stared at my fingers. “I don’t know. But I mean to find out.”

“Is that why he made sure you were in the same house as him? So he could torment you the entire year?” she theorized.

I lifted my gaze, the pressure I’d been feeling for days tightening in my chest at the suggestion. “Maybe. Who the fuck knows what Tristan’s thinking.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me. Sure, Tristan has always been a king-size dick, metaphorically,” she added, seeing the slight twitch of my lips. “But cruel...that’s not his style.”

I took a small breath. “He’s been gone for a while. Maybe he changed.”

She breezed through her nostrils. “Does a leopard change its spots?”

I rolled my eyes. “What am I going to do? How can I live in this house with him?”

“If Tristan wants to play games, then play.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded like trouble. But then again...why should Tristan be the only one calling the shots? Perhaps the only way I could get him to back down was by beating him at his own game. Plotting revenge had not been how I thought I’d spend my first semester at college. “You might be right,” I admitted, actually entertaining the idea.

She jumped up to her feet and spun back toward me. “Shit, finally. This could be fun.”

Sam had such a warped sense of fun. “Come on, let’s grab some boxes and get you moved in,” I said, inching to the edge of the bed.

I couldn’t believe I would be spending the entire year living in the same house as Tristan Malone. This was nothing like the family trips we’d taken, and when I lived at his house over the summer, Tristan hadn’t been home. This was a whole new dynamic that was most definitely a bad idea.

“Right. I need to find an outfit for tonight.” Her eyes swept over my basic workout shorts and cropped tank. I had dressed comfortably knowing we’d be lugging boxes, unpacking more crap than one college student needed, and getting Sam settled in. I should have known Sam would have her own agenda. The girl always did.

“What’s tonight?” I inquired, suspicion in my voice.

She gave me a bright smile. “I’ve got the perfect cure to pull you out of this slump.”

I groaned.

eleven

Sam’s cure turned out to be the first frat party of the year. I couldn’t say I was in the mood to put on actual clothes and makeup, but as Sam suggested, it would be a way to meet people—people other than Tristan.

Ugh.

For my best friend, I got out of my comfy clothes and showered before heading out on campus. We didn’t have to go far.

The 30A was known to throw some killer parties, and with Sam as my best friend, I was no stranger to everything from a beach bash to a house party. A college block party wasn’t all that impressive. Same shit, different people. I never would have gone without Sam. But I had to admit there was something cool about being able to go from block to block and seeing the streets full of students drinking, laughing, dancing, singing, and generally having the time of their lives. Each corner we turned down, someone handed me a different drink. I felt like I was taking a booze tour.

It was nice to forget about Tristan and Preston. Or try to.

The White Claws and Jungle Juice definitely helped. As did the warm buzz contributing to not a single thought about the Malone brothers.

My phone buzzed as Sam and I sat on the curb. A voice in my head told me not to check my phone. The only person I wanted to talk to was beside me. I didn’t listen. Seeing Preston’s name on my screen still with a stupid heart beside it instilled an instant sinking feeling in my gut.Great. Why did I look? And why did Preston have to remind me he existed?

---