Page 27 of The Dare

One, I could have just used my own phone, but it would have ruined the moment.

And two, whatever this is, it’s bound to get messy.

8

TAYLOR

LESS THAN TWENTY-FOUR HOURS AFTERCONOR ANDIMAKEit “official,” the entire Kappa membership gathers at the house while our chapter president leads the meeting. First on the agenda is the upcoming spring election for next year’s president and vice president. Naturally, since Charlotte is a senior, Abigail as her VP is the heir apparent. Gag me with a dishrag.

“To ensure no undue influence on the part of myself or the vice president,” Charlotte is saying, “Fiona will lead the election commission with Willow and Madison. They will host the platform dinner and coordinate the ballot committee. Anyone interested in helping out should talk with them after the meeting.”

Truth is, the election is all but a formality. Every year, the outgoing senior names a junior as her VP and she is elected the following year. All pretenses that we aren’t living under a dynastic system are insulting. Dani, who’s running against Abigail as the lone voice of resistance, doesn’t stand a chance. But she’s got my vote.

“Fi?” Charlotte prompts.

The tall redhead stands up. “Yes, okay. So, both Abigail and Dani will give their final campaign speeches at the platform dinner. The format will be—”

My phone vibrates against my thigh, drawing focus away from Fiona. I peer down and hide a smile when I read Conor’s text.

HIM:How’s my sexy babe doing this afternoon?

I covertly type back a response, although I feel Sasha’s knowing gaze on me. She’s in the chair next to mine, no doubt trying to read what I’m writing.

ME:In the middle of a chapter meeting. Kill me now.

HIM:Kill you?! But then how will we ever fuck?

I fight a laugh and reply with an eyeroll emoji.

He ups the ante by sending a picture of his abs, and I try not to drool all over the dining room table.

“Are you going to share with the rest of the class, Tay-Tay?” comes Abigail’s snippy voice.

My head jerks up. “Sorry,” I blurt, setting my phone on the tabletop. I give Fiona and then Charlotte apologetic looks. “Someone texted and I was just texting back to say I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“Someone?” Sasha cracks, laughing. “And does that someone’s name start with a C and end with an Onor?”

I turn to glare at her.

But the remark has already snagged the interest of our president. “Conor?” she echoes. “As in Conor Edwards?”

I manage a weak nod.

“My girl Taylor’s landed herself a hockey god,” my best friend brags on my behalf, and I’m torn between smacking her for making me the center of attention and thanking her for hyping me up. Sasha Lennox is the best hype-woman there is. She’s also well aware that the whole MyBri relationship status stuff was baloney, so now I’m praying she doesn’t slip up and somehow reveal the truth.

“No shit,” Charlotte says, looking impressed. “Good going, Marsh.”

“They fucked in my room,” Rachel boasts, as if that means she’s one step away from being Conor Edwards’ girlfriend herself.

“Oh, big fucking deal,” Abigail speaks up, her pale green eyes cool as ice. “Whohasn’tfucked that guy? I mean, seriously. Show of hands—who here has slept with Conor Edwards?”

After several seconds of hesitation, three hands are raised. A sheepish Willow and Taryn on the other side of the table, and a blushing Laura who’s standing against the wall.

Well. Dude gets around.

I swallow the tiny lump of jealousy that rises in my throat and remind myself that I already knew he was a player. Besides, he’s a grown-ass man. He’s allowed to sleep with whomever he wants, my sorority sisters included.

Sensing my discomfort, Sasha turns toward Abigail, pinning the platinum blonde with an equally icy stare. “What are you saying, Abs? You implying that Taylor is, what, of lesser value because her man has a past? Like that means anything. In fact—show of hands,” Sasha mimics, “who here has slept with one of Abigail’s douchey ex-boyfriends?”

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