Page 2 of Kingston
Another guy appears at his side, this one equally bewildered, but also the tiniest bit enthralled as he looks me over. “Uh? Did someone order a stripper?” He quirks one eyebrow before turning around and shouting toward where I assume the other brothers and initiates are gathered. “Who the fuck ordered a stripper? Not funny. But”—he turns back to look at me, cocking his head to the side—“not awful either.” His gray eyes narrow on me. “Who sent for you? Name. Now.”
Before I can respond, the guy who let me in the door shrugs. “Wasn’t me, Archer, but I’ll gladly fucking watch. Or, you know, take her right on out of here for you.” He slides me a cheeky wink.
A stray lock of hair has fallen from my messy chignon, and I stall for a second as I tuck it behind my ear. “I was invited.” I level a self-assured stare at the entire group, the size of which is growing by the second. I’ve got ten pairs of eyes trained on me and attempt to hide a shiver that racks my body by folding my arms over my chest.
Just then, a tall guy with dark, boy-next-door good looks pushes his way through, then goes stock-still. Slack-jawed, he blinks his piercing blue eyes, then glances at the men on either side of him—the one with the gravelly voice and Archer, if I caught his name right. Oddly, if I had to guess, there’s some sort of nonverbal exchange being had among the three of them. My forehead pinches the tiniest bit. No one else seems fazed by their interaction at all.
I choose that moment to flick my clutch open and pull out the invitation, holding it up for them to see. I force a smug smile onto my face. “See? Invited.”
Green Eyes takes the reins, as I assumed he would. This dude exudes a certain cocky assertiveness most of these other guys simply don’t have. But damn, it positively oozes from him. He steps forward, plucking the card stock from my hand, and scans the name. After a moment’s thought and a quick glance back at me, he flips it over, verifying all the info is there. As if I’d have tried to fake an invitation. Nope. The only thing I faked was my dad’s signature. Obviously, I met their standards in every way except the one they weren’t aware of. I don’t have adick.
“Lemme have a look.” Archer holds out his hand for the invitation, still staring at me with his thoughtful gray eyes. He holds it in front of him and his silent buddy, finally breaking eye contact with me. “Elliot?” He says it like a question, which… I suppose it is.
“Yes. I’m Elliot Ashford.”
The green-eyed guy twitches ever so slightly, and I can tell he’s grinding his teeth hard. “Let’s go sit the fuck down and figure out what this is about.” Without another look at me, he spins on his heel and strides past everyone, the stiff set of his shoulders making it obvious—he’s beyond annoyed now. He’s pissed.
My eyes dart around the remainder of the group, all of whom are still observing me like I’m the enemy—which,shit.Maybe I am? I meet Archer’s watchful gaze. His hand grips his chin for a moment, then his thumb slides across his lower lip. “You’d better get the fuck in there. Kingston doesn’t like to wait on anyone.”
So,thisis Kingston Hawthorne—the guy whose parents gave him the university’s name. I’ve done my research. Too bad they didn’t. I quickly swallow, stunned into action, and purposefully walk the same path, feeling very out of place. Maybe the invitation wasn’t enough. I’m going to have to fight for this.Shit.
TWO
KINGSTON
Anger radiatesoff me in unending waves. I’m so fucking pissed I can hardly see straight. Marching into the spacious living area of our home, I point to the couches without sparing anyone a glance. “Sit. Wait. Cannon and Archer, with me, please.”
Go fucking figure I’d be appointed to lead the brotherhood this year, only to have it blow up in my face before the semester has begun. This crapfest is the very first “issue” I’ll be handling. If I have my way, we’ll be seeingMissElliot Ashford directly out the motherfucking door.
The three of us take off down the hall toward the library, seeking privacy to figure out what the actual fuck is going on.
As far as I’m aware, this is unprecedented. There’s no denying this woman—this girl—was extended a bona fide invitation to join our brotherhood. She’s already gone through the entire process of signing the nondisclosure agreement and the intent to initiate into the brotherhood. She’s agreed to everything, so she’s as good as in… so long as she makes it through her initiation period and the final test. It doesn’t mean she should be here though. Goddammit, this isn’t how any of this works.
I stop in the middle of the room, whirling around to face the other two senior members of our brotherhood, my best friends, Cannon and Archer. Successfully navigating our initiation and living together throughout our college careers has bonded us. We’re very different people, but we understand each other. Archer is an intelligent computer whiz, seriously introverted. It’s odd because while he dislikes crowds, he loves a gathering—he’s quite funny and enjoys entertaining people. The problem is he needs massive amounts of alone time to recharge. He’s also our voice of reason, able to see all angles to any problem or argument. Cannon is a completely different sort and only speaks when absolutely necessary. He’s a brooding, anxious motherfucker. Me? I’m a hard-core stickler for rules and doing things by the book. A bit of a ladies’ man, if I’m being honest. A cocky bastard and natural-born leader. I believe in tradition—which is why this entire situation is going to push me right over the edge.
Anyway, our bond is how these two already know my thoughts before I speak them. Grabbing the back of my neck, I tug hard as I meet their unsettled gazes. “This is fucked. We shouldn’t allow this.”
Archer blows out a hard breath before muttering, “Complete shit show. Agreed.”
The muscle in Cannon’s jaw twitches as he glances over his shoulder. I should have told the brothers in the living room to shut the fuck up and wait to open their mouths, because there’s no such luck they’d think to do it on their own.
I close my eyes, briefly shaking my head as I try to think. “I don’t like how it looks like we’re bumbling around here. Pledge night is a fuckin’ formality and everyone knows it. We’ve already accepted her. She’s ready to go through the initiation. Supposedly.”
Perching on the arm of a leather couch, Archer nods. “This started with the recommendation, obviously. I can look into it. But… after last year’s debacle, we don’t need alumni or anyone else looking too carefully at us. I’d like to keep my findings on the down-low.”
“Right,” I bite out. “Fuck, I’m going to end up having to chew someone’s ass over this. I can see it coming.” We have a goddamn committee that’s supposed to carefully vet each candidate after receiving their recommendation from alumni within the brotherhood. The Brothers of Hawthorne Hall have a connection in the admissions office which allows us to see transcripts and all sorts of other information. So, even if we set aside the fact that someone recommended her when they knew damn well they shouldn’t have—someone on our end also fucked up, too, by not catching that Elliot, despite the typically male name, is female.
Archer sighs, then wets his lower lip before he gestures with his hand. “What do you think about going with it? If she can’t handle it… she’s out anyway.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that.”
Cannon’s eyes flick up to mine, and if I’m not imagining it, I sense a small degree of anxiousness in them. I study the flurry of haphazard emotion moving over his face and suddenly it strikes me. He took one look at her andboom.
“Careful, Cannon,” I grit out as I raise my hands again to pull on the back of my neck. He’s not one to back down from anything he’s decided he wants.Fuck me, she shouldn’t even be here.
He eyes my reaction and gives a noncommittal shrug before his gaze tears away from mine as a whoop of laughter comes from the other room.
Fuck if I’m letting this happen. It rubs me the wrong way. This is abrotherhood. Not coed. Not a goddamn slumber party. Hawthorne Hall—this house, the brotherhood—won’t ever be the same. If we start changing how we do things now— I let out a hard breath and shake my head in disgust. I can only imagine what it’ll be like if we allow her to go through the initiation and her final test. It’ll be a big fucking hot mess.
Archer’s been observing us the entire time, calm as can be. He rubs one hand over his jaw—the guy is always thinking, his brain like a finely tuned engine. Finally, he shrugs. “It’s already essentially a done deal. Let’s bring her in here for a sec. Make sure she has full comprehension of what she’s getting into.”
