Page 27 of Corrupt Me

“Who is it?” Sam asked.

“No one,” I replied, shoving the phone back into my pocket.

She raised a brow but didn’t say anything else, guessing I didn’t want to talk about it. And I didn’t. Not about Preston. And not about Tristan. I’d said all I had to say about them earlier today.

But Preston was persistent, especially because he was used to getting his way. He hated to be ignored.

A cute guy with shaggy dark hair pulled Sam onto the street to dance. She tried to coax me to join them, but I shook my head, needing a breather. We’d been walking, drinking, or dancing for the last two hours. My feet wanted a rest. Content to sit on the sidelines and watch, I sipped on my White Claw. Out of habit, I pulled out my phone to see if I had missed any messages.

Fuck, had I.

A string of unread texts and unanswered phone calls lined my notifications. Every single one of them was from Preston. There were only two times he ever blew up my phone. When he was horny or when he was drunk. The two often coincided.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I skimmed through the texts. All the same messages.Ever, call me. Why won’t you return my messages? Blah. Blah. Blah.It wasn’t that I was insensitive to his broken heart. I just wasn’t convinced he truly loved me. I’d been more of a convenience to Preston. There had definitelybeen a friendship between us, and I missed that part more than I missed being his girlfriend. We had been friends beforehand. And honestly, I was ignoring him. At least for the time being until I trusted myself to hold my ground and found out what the fuck Tristan was up to.

Frowning at the screen, a shadow fell over me. I was no longer alone on the curb.

I sat on the side of the road, wondering how long I could ignore their looming presence. It became clear this person was not leaving, and my curiosity finally got the best of me. When I lifted my head, an internal groan rumbled through my chest at the sight of Tristan glaring above me. In a block party full of hundreds of college students, how the fuck had he found me? Did I stand out that much?

The displeasure on my lips deepened. “Tristan, what do you want?” I hated the way my voice sounded defeated as if I had already given up.

“If you don’t like what’s on your phone, why don’t you turn it off,” he stated. The ominous darkness of his features made me want to shudder.

I tightened my jaw. “You’re not ruining my night. This is Sam’s and my first day together on campus. Get lost.”

He did no such thing. The bastard sat down beside me. Too close.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek to squash the sudden tingles of arousal that hit between my legs at his nearness. Why did my body constantly betray me? I wasn’t just fighting against Tristan but myself as well. My heart, head, and body needed to get their shit together and come to an understanding. Whatever that was. “Don’t you have a redhead’s neck to suck or something?” I snapped. God, it always felt better to bark at him than to acknowledge what he did to me. Had my words smacked of jealousy? Probably. I didn’t care.

“You shouldn’t be here alone,” he said with a shred of foreboding as he reached for the White Claw clutched in my hand and brought it to his goddamn full lips.

I sputtered a noise of annoyance, reaching for my drink, but Tristan twisted so it was out of my range. “I’m not alone. Did you not hear me say that Sam and I came together?” I retorted.

Lifting a brow, he gave me a mocking look. “Where is she then? No doubt out in the crowd grinding on the first dick that swung her way,” he sneered.

I refused to admit how close to the truth that statement hit. I didn’t give a shit what Tristan thought of my best friend or how little he thought of her. The same could be said about him—that he was a manwhore. “Believe it or not, Tristan, Sam’s not the slut you think she is. Besides, with your reputation, should you even be one to talk?”

The smirk on his face wasn’t nice. “Prove me wrong?”

I followed his gaze, finding my best friend grinding on a guy and not the guy who had asked her to dance. Regardless, I’d never give Tristan the satisfaction of thinking he was right, which he wasn’t. So what if Sam liked to have a good time and also happened to like people? All people. Except for Tristan. And Preston.

There were always a few exceptions.

The Malones would have to be the anomalies.

“Did you come just to harass me?” I diverted to another topic, shifting his negative energy away from my friend. This time when I went to grab my drink, he didn’t pull it out of my way.

He leaned his arms over the tops of his knees, looking far too relaxed. “Probably.”

A drop of condensation from the can dribbled onto my thigh, and I brushed it off. “You need some hobbies,” I muttered.

“Turns out looking after you is a full-time fucking job.”

My gaze flashed to his. “Who the hell asked you to?”

Before Tristan could come back with the snappy retort undoubtedly on the tip of his tongue, Sam appeared at his side, giving him the stink eye. “Are you following us?” she bit out, crossing her arms.

A dark, deep scowl marred Tristan’s lips, and he spared Sam only a quick flicker of attention before his eyes returned to me. “Oh, look, the yang to your yin arrived.”

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