Page 66 of Frat House Fling

But Grant was patient—a word I never thought I’d use to describe him. Once I was back in the starting position, he said, “Close your eyes.” That order made my eyes widen, but then after careful consideration, I closed them.

It felt different with my eyes closed. The cavernous room faded away. The vacuum, a sign of my ever-growing to-do list, also disappeared. But I could sense the man next to me. He circled me and then I felt him directly behind me, causing me to almost let go of the pole. Somehow, I held my pose—even when he leaned in close, and his warm breath inches from my ear.

“They’re watching you, Hailey.” His voice was low and intimate, and I shivered in spite of myself. “All of them. All those men. They’re all watching you, and every single one of them wants you.” His hands descended on my shoulders, adjusting my position slightly. Then he whispered in my ear again. “Youare the sexiest woman they’ve ever seen. They want to fuck you. They wished their girlfriends looked like you. They’re all leaning forward, desperate to see your hot little body spin around that pole. These men would do anything for you. They’d die for the chance to fall down at your feet and worship you. To them, you are a goddess, and you’re going to spin for them. Show them your grace. Your sexuality. Your power. Do it now.”

I felt a small push on my back, but it didn’t break the power of his spell. With my eyes still closed, I started. Three graceful steps. Toes pointed. I could feel their eyes on me—the men who thought I was gorgeous.

My left hand crossed in front of me, grasping the pole and I swung my leg around, my toe pointed. They were all staring at me. Their eyes glued to my leg as I bent it and hooked my foot around the pole. And then I pushed off, gliding around the pole, my legs bent, my hands gripping tightly.

One time. Two times—I was losing altitude, sliding toward the floor. And then three times. My knee touched the thick carpet, and I slid to a stop.

There was complete silence, but in my mind, I was imagining what Grant said. Men staring at me, mesmerized. Cheering for me. Wanting me. It wasn’t a very feminist fantasy, but it was a pretty intriguing one.

I opened my eyes and blinked at the bright light. Then Grant stepped in front of me, blocking everything else with his huge body. “Good job.”

He offered a hand and I took it, letting him pull me effortlessly to my feet. He held on until he was sure I was steady and then stepped back. “A very good job.” Almost reluctantly, he reached out and stroked my hair once. Then he stepped back. “Now finish sweeping the floor.” With a wink, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving me to wonder whatthe hell had just happened. How had I started out cleaning and ended up doingthat?

But somehow, I wasn’t disappointed that I had.

The barbecue was fun. Somehow, since I knew that there was that secret meeting later that night, I’d expected the men to be all mysterious and somber, maybe trading secret handshakes or wearing dark cloaks. But no, they looked like normal college guys hanging out on a patio and manning the grill.

I wasn’t the only woman there, either, even though the numbers were skewed. Matt’s girlfriend came, and one of the other officers had a woman with him. I enjoyed chatting briefly with Matt’s girl, but after that, they sat down at one of the patio tables, laughing, drinking, and talking, while I was put in charge of drinks.

And as I well knew, these guys could really drink.

They kept me busy, fetching beers from the fridge, popping the caps off, delivering them to guests and then whisking the empty bottles away.

When Grant, Bennett and a blond guy I hadn’t met deemed the grill hot enough to put the meat on, Ian joined me in the kitchen. It was time to make the signature drinks. “Do you remember how?” he asked.

“Yep.”

I had all the ingredients ready on the counter, but I’d forgotten the secret ingredient that was out by the bar. He went to get that while I laid out red plastic cups on the counter. “That’s too many,” he said, counting quickly.

“No, I think it’s right?—”

“Only members get this drink, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

He grinned at the expression on my face. “You might think it’s silly, but traditions are important in Greek life. And this is one of the tamer ones, so I’m happy to follow it.”

“All right.”

He poured the vodka in each cup, and I followed with the white grape juice. Then a splash of the secret ingredient—which could’ve been battery acid for all I knew. Then the tonic water. Then I loaded up a tray and took the first batch out.

I was worried that things might get a little awkward, but the other woman had evidently been told not to expect a cup. Once all the members had one, I backed away as Bennett got up to speak. I’d heard enough of his speeches.

I figured it was safe to come out once everyone had said cheers. Over by the grill, Grant caught my eye, and I figured he knew why I’d ducked into the kitchen. He lifted his glass, a little toast just for me, but then he brought it down too quickly, and it splashed on his shirt. “Crap,” he muttered. “Be right back.” Drink in hand, he went back inside.

I was able to relax and enjoy the evening air as people laughed and talked at the tables. Grant had returned, and the barbecue crew did their thing. Soon, the night air smelled amazing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had steak.

The guys at the grill were in their element, and I remembered Theo’s caveman theory and I grinned. Then Grant waved me over. “Go get some platters for us to put the steaks on. Oh, and a towel, too.”

I complied, returning in a moment holding the three heavy platters with both hands, the towel slung over my arm.

Grant pointed to a rack on the side of the grill, but when I set the heavy platters down, I must’ve leaned too far forward. The top platter slid forward, right toward the grill. Shit. I tried to grab it, inconveniently forgetting that it wasn’t smart to reachinto an open flame. As I jerked my hand back, the towel slid down my wrist, falling into the pit of the grill.

There must’ve been some grease on it or something, because it didn’t start smoldering, it burst into flames. I felt like I was watching it in slow motion. The towel turned black as the flames spread. Most of the battered cloth sank down into the depths of the grill, but part separated as the flames overtook it. I watched as it floated through the air like ash, the edge of it still burning. It flew a few feet and then fell gently onto a table, the people sitting there scrambling back.

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