Page 19 of Make Me, Break Me

“That I am.”

“So, why are you really here?” I peeked at the semester’s project outline, and groaned. “We are so not sleeping.”

“Definitely not sleeping.” Falcon slipped into the seat on my other side as the lecturer walked past and tapped our heads in a display that broke all campus rules, not that he cared in the least.

“And that’s your three.” He moved on to the next trio seated beside us, already scribbling our names down on his sheet. “And your three?—”

“—Wait,” I called, but he had already moved further along the row.

My protest was lost in the hubbub that arose from the plethora of chattering students suddenly keen on their project for one day before their collective interest waned.

Margot stopped before us, her mouth hanging open as she waved a finger in our direction, encircling all of us seated guiltily together. “What is happening here?”

I shrugged through my semi-discomfort at being encompassed by Dex’s friends and sank deep in my seat, stuffed between the lordling and Mister Mafia. “Fucked if I know. They just turned up.”

Margot huffed. “So much for dorm solidarity.” She turned on her heel and flounced off to the lower rows the lecturer hadn’t made it to yet in search of group mates.

I spotted one of her prior one night stands that she linked her arms around and kissed on both cheeks. The poor dude threw his dreads over his shoulder in fright at the unexpected contact. I didn’t blame him; she did kind of blindside the poor man. He seemed welcoming after his initial scare, and my guilt over not being able to work with her on this project eased a fraction.

I sighed, resolving myself to the conundrum of Dex’s housemates apparently attaching themselves to my course and to me for the remainder of the semester. At least they seemed not to be too grumpy and were decent eye candy. And Dex would kick their respective asses if they got out of line.Bonus.

“Alright. I have ideas.” I glanced at both of the boys, and bit my lip as my brain kicked into gear. “Do… either of you want to go first?”

Falcon watched me with his mouth shut tight. Nelson’s eyes glittered.

This isn’t freaking weird at all.

I let out a breath and went for it. “We rebrand the oldest fraternity on campus.” I nibbled my lip, knowing Dex would hate my plan, mostly because I was about to do what I'd told him not to do when realistically I had no right to tell him not to do anything at all.

I was going to poke the bear.

“We’re going to rebrand the Kingsman House.”

And we were going to make it stick.

CHAPTER EIGHT

DEX

Zinzi worked at my cramped kitchen table with my roommates giving them utter hell for not keeping up with her brain. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. I’d never thought that seeing her take on two of the biggest bad asses—and Nelson definitely qualified after he barely flinched during the twins’ torture, at least in my books—would do it for me, but there was no denying that seeing Zin sass out a foreign lord and a mafia heir boiled my blood.

Falcon pointed something out that stalled my girl for a moment. I pretended to work on my fake case as catch up work while I creeper-peeked at her over my laptop screen, waiting on her reaction. I wasn’t the only one. Falcon had baited her, waited to see if she would arc up—still a fail in his eyes—or crumble under pressure. Nelson appeared poised to jump in and take the brunt of Falcon’s pending outburst, whatever trap he thought he’d set for my girl.

Tension built in my spine, but I forced myself to relax. Zin could handle herself with these two. It was why I’d set her up with them int he first place—so that she had someone, or twosomeones—to watch her back while I was out of commission, thanks to Beau’s fucked up version of fun.

And they'd done an admirable job, getting under her skin and weaseling their way into her classes so she never had to walk anywhere on her own, regardless of if the sun was up or not.

Zin didn’t disappoint, either. She twirled her pencil in her hand, reaching out to flick Falcon’s notes over and scribbled something on the back. He stared at whatever she had written for a second, then let out a bark of a laugh. She flipped him off.

He ruffled her hair.

I stared.

Nelson settled back in his seat with a smarmy grin on his face like all was motherfucking well with the world, and it was because of him when, as far as I could tell, the bow tie twirling dick hadn’t done a single damn thing.

I doubted Zinzi had any idea that simple, sassy motion would have earned anyone else a quick double tap and a pair of matching new breathing holes in their forehead from the handgun that lived in Falcon’s silk wool blend suit jacket he’d hung carelessly over the back of his chair. Nor did I have any intention of telling her.

Still, I was proud of her for coming out of her shell and socializing in a situation that wasn't exactly her pick of friendship groups. From what Nelson told me they’d effectively butted her roomie out of her group project, and seconded Zin away. Not that she’d put up that much of a fight the way my boys told the tale.

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