Page 40 of Corrupt Me

“It didn’t take you long to move on, did it?” he sneered, his expression judging me.

I shook my head, my spine stiffening at his tone, going on defense. “Like I said, Brody is just a friend. He works in the coffee shop.” I had no idea why I felt the need to inform Preston where Brody worked. Preston brought out this side of me I wasn’t proud of. He made me defensive.

“Which dorm are you in?” he demanded, slipping a hand under my elbow.

“Thorn Hall.” Hadn’t Tristan mentioned to Preston we were in the same house?

By the furrowing of his brows, I guessed not. Why had Tristan told his brother? “Thorn Hall?” he repeated. “Isn’t that Tristan’s house?” He made it sound like Tristan owned the three-story brick home.

“It is,” I confirmed.

He didn’t give it a second thought as he guided me down the sidewalk. The urge to shake off his hand rose within me, and for once, I didn’t ignore it. My heels dug in, and I yanked my arm from under his fingers. Standing firm in my position, I halted. “We can talk here. Say what you came to say. I have somewhere to be later.” I didn’t want Preston in the house—didn’t want his presence to tarnish the one place at this school that was mine. It was bad enough one Malone invaded my privacy. I didn’t need Preston there too. I wanted my memories of Thorn Hall to be with Sam. I wanted them to be different than the ones I had from my life in 30A.

Preston didn’t blink, displeasure evident in his features. “Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding, Preston? I didn’t ask you to come,” I retaliated.

“How could you when you never pick up the phone or answer my texts?”

I snorted, feeling my anger rise to match his. “The definition of space isn’t calling me every day or messaging me a dozen times.”

“Perhaps we have a different definition of what a break is? Don’t you miss me?”

Did I? Not as much as I should. “Preston, you need to go.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but before the words came out, another voice cut in. Panic pitched in my gut so strong I gasped.

“Well, if it isn’t Preston Fucking Malone in the flesh.”

Something flashed in my ex’s eyes briefly before he pasted on a smile, the one he used to charm everyone. “Hey, Cruz. Hudson.” Preston nodded at the two guys from the other night, the one who held a knife to my throat and the one Sam maced.

The color in my face drained. I hadn’t seen them on campus since, and I’d hoped I never would, yet here they were, talking to Preston as if they knew each other. How was that possible?

Confused, my gaze volleyed between Preston and the other guys. How did Preston know them? Why did he know them? It had to be Tristan. Had he gotten his brother mixed up with his problems? It would be just like Tristan to drag everyone else through the mud with him.

“Preston, we should go.” I tugged on his sleeve, but he didn’t budge.

“Are you up for a game?” Either Cruz or Hudson asked.

“When?” Preston replied, a glimmer of excitement brightening in his eyes.

“I’ll text you the details,” the prick who’d threatened me with a knife said, my world spinning.

“No, you won’t.” The deep voice came from behind me. “Not if you want to keep all your fingers.”

Tristan.

My whole body sighed in relief, his voice grounding me. If anything happened, Tristan would handle it.

Preston didn’t seem to share my sentiment. His demeanor immediately shifted at his brother’s appearance. An uncomfortable frown turned down Preston’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, bro.”

“What are you doing here?” Tristan demanded, discounting all pleasantries, and yet his eyes slid to me as if Tristan already knew the answer.

Preston studied his brother for a moment before responding. “Trying to convince Ev she can’t live without me. Help me out.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tristan said sharply, his blue eyes hardening. I wasn’t sure how they could get colder than they already were, but somehow, he never failed to surpass what I thought he was capable of. Or wasn’t capable of.

Preston threw up his hands. “Why isn’t anyone happy to see me?”

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