Page 3 of Duke of Ruin

I stand up from my seat, not even trying to hide the bulge in my jeans. I grab my bag and head toward the exit. This class doesn’t end for another thirty minutes, but I’m not going to be able to sit here for that long. It’s all a bunch of boring nonsense anyway. The only reason I’m here is because my family thinks it will be good for me, though I can’t imagine why. Intro to Business Administration and Practices is so beneath me. I’ve been in charge of at least a third of the family affairs since I was sixteen, and most of what they teach in this class is pansy-ass nonsense. If you want something done, you get it done, none of this “be nice to everyone and respect your workforce” nonsense. If someone doesn’t like the job, then find someone else to do it, it’s that simple.

The corridors of Valmont’s Cheshire Hall are quiet as I head for the exit. I cross the open atrium and push through the doors, squinting into the sunlight. Like I’ve been trained, I take stock of everyone around me. A few people are scattered across the lawn, sitting or lying in the grass with their books or headphones. A group of students sits at a stone picnic table, but none of them are paying me any attention. I don’t have a destination in mind, so I just start walking. A few of the other students give me a cursory glance as I pass them, but they quickly look away. I’m practically a celebrity around here. I was a legacy into the Phi Alphas, so I didn’t have to deal with most of the hazing and nonsense that goes along with pledging—not that they would have tried; they know who my family is. Since I’ve been involved with the frat, we’ve managed to make a name for ourselves around campus, thanks mostly to our lavish parties, but also for some of the other work we do.

I pause to take my headphones out of my backpack. I really don’t feel like talking to anyone at the moment, and the headphones are like a signal for everyone to leave me the fuck alone. It’s not that I’m in abadmood so much as I’m annoyed. I haven’t been able to track down this Noah character, though not for lack of trying. I’ve looked through the class databases, social pages, even asked around—not too much though, since I don’t want to get people talking. The man’s a fucking ghost. Maybe I was more drunk than I thought when everything happened. That would explain why I was so quick to suck a man’s dick. My cock twitches again when I picture him looking down at me, that fucking mask obscuring half his face.

I quicken my pace. I may as well head back to the house and find something to eat. I lose myself in my music as I walk across campus with my hands stuffed in my pockets. It’s cool today, more so than usual for this time of year. I look up, and there he is. I stop midstride when his dark eyes lift to meet mine. He pauses for an instant, but he quickly recovers and looks away from me. Dammit, why did I freeze like that? I can’t let him know he has this much of an effect on me. I pick up my pace to meet him at the bottom of the stairs and stop in front of him, blocking his way.

“Noah, right?” I ask as I slip my headphones down around my neck. His eyebrows tighten as he takes me in and his jaw flexes, which makes my pulse quicken. I smile broadly and look up at the building. “We met at the masquerade.”

“We did,” he confirms. My eye twitches before I gain control of my expression. The building he’s exiting is Wilcox Hall, the criminology department. “You’re Eli Carbone.”

“In the flesh,” I answer with a dramatic bow. I stand a little taller than him, and his dark eyes flash with something I can’t place. My tongue runs across my bottom lip as he curls his hand around his backpack, and I fight the urge to trace my fingers down the cords of muscle in his biceps. I don’t remember giving him my last name, but I’m well-known on this campus, so it’s not surprising. “Did you decide if you wanted to pledge Phi Alpha? I’d be interested in sponsoring you.” I lift an eyebrow at him.

He purses his lips, and I flash back to him pressing me against that damn tree, the rough bark digging into my back as his hands roamed my body and his lips pressed against mine. “I don’t know,” he says, pulling me back to the present. “I don’t think I’m fraternity material.” I step closer to him to see if he pulls back. He doesn’t. “I rather like my autonomy.”

“And I rather enjoyed your anatomy,” I say with a grin. His lips quirk in response, and his eyes rove over my chest before he catches himself and meets my gaze again. “Walk with me.” I shift to stand beside him before he can object. His eyebrows lift for a moment before he shrugs and falls into step beside me.

“Where are we going?” he asks with a playful lift of his chin.

“I’m a bit peckish, so I thought I’d head back to the house for a snack.”

“I don’t want to join the fraternity,” he says with a little more conviction.

“That’s not why we’re going to the house, Noah,” I answer without looking at him. “I’m not going to try to convince you. You don’t seem the type to submit to a bunch of hazing, anyway.” The corner of my lips lifts into a half-smile. “No offense.”

“None taken. That’s a compliment,” he answers with a snort. Even his snort is fucking sexy. “Despite past circumstance…” He looks at me with a grin. “You don’t seem that type either. How did you manage it?”

“I’m a legacy.” I lift my chin. “I didn’t have to do all that bullshit.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he mutters. I look down at him and tighten my gaze.

“I suppose my reputation precedes me,” I say, my voice a little tighter than I wanted. I see him tense, as though he’s considering his response. Finally, his shoulders sag.

“Yes, it does. You’re known around campus,” Noah huffs, and I have to fight the urge to wrap my arm around him. He presses his lips together and looks up at me, a pained expression on his face. “I didn’t…I didn’t know who you were…then.”

“Surely my name doesn’t intimidate you,” I chide. I realize I’m trying to make him more comfortable around me, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why.

“Intimidate? No,” he chuckles, and the muscles in his arm flex as he adjusts his backpack. “We just come from different worlds, my friend.”

Friend. That word hits me like a slap, but I school my expression into nonchalance. He’s trying to put distance between us, but that’s not going to work for me. I want him closer, not walled off. I scoff at my own reaction and shove it deep in the back of my mind. I’m going to have to analyze that later.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“No offense taken,friend.” I emphasize that word a little too much. I really need to get it together before I scare this man off. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t back away. “I don’t know anything about you yet. Maybe we can bring our worlds a little closer together.”

He presses his lips together again and I fight the urge to touch him. What iswrongwith me? Even being seen just flirting with a man on campus would cause a lot of problems with the family. What am I doing?

“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m a little distracted today. I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“No worries,” he answers with a smile that melts me. “I was a bit surprised, too.”

We approach the huge doors to the Phi Alpha House and I unlock them with my card. He pulls in a deep breath as we walk through and he looks around the entryway. The house is gorgeous. My older brother had it renovated two years ago when he was here.

“Wow.” He sounds breathless. “This place is something else.” His eyes trail up the dual staircases leading to the second floor. He hesitates, then lets me take the lead.

“Come on.” I take him by the arm, leading him toward the kitchen. His skin is hot on my hand and my pulse speeds up at the contact. He cuts his eyes toward me and a slight smile plays at his lips, but he doesn’t pull away.

A lunch spread is laid out on the kitchen counters—several types of sandwiches and cold cuts alongside cheeses, fruits, yogurt, and condiments. My personal chef sets these out every day and the brothers come and go eating at their convenience. I select a sandwich and gesture for Noah to take his pick. He chooses a yogurt parfait, and I can’t help but smile. We grab a couple cans of soda and take everything to a small breakfast table in the corner. He gazes out the bay window as I take a bite of my sandwich and study his face. The angles of his cheeks and jaw cast deep shadows that I find alluring. The muscle in his jaw ticks as his eyes search the view outside the window. We can see the oak tree from here, and I can’t help but notice when his eyes settle on it and darken.

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