Page 15 of Players Love Hard
“No. I wish. I looked again this morning before I went to class. Whoever’s running the blog is good. Better than I expected.”
“So, what’s that mean? You can’t find her?”
“I can and I will. But I need more time. She’s a coder with actual skills.”
He laughs. “You’re getting beat by a girl?”
His question irritates me. “She’s just making it harder for me to find her.”
“If we don’t react to her, maybe she’ll go away.”
“She posts new pictures of us every day,” I point out. “Everyone on campus is talking about her. They’ve even downloaded her app. I doubt she’ll go away soon. When you feed an animal, they keep coming back for more.”
That’s the worst part about all of this. The Queen has infiltrated the cell phones of almost everyone on campus because of her stupid app. You can scroll through pictures of most of the popular students on campus in compromising positions, all because of the mastermind behind Dethroned. She’s good, way better than I could’ve imagined. I hate being bested by anyone, and The Queen has really gotten under my skin.
“Then we have to stop feeding her ego,” Preston counters.
I chuckle. “Good luck with that. Our teammates might listen to you, but I wouldn’t hold my breath with the rest of the students on campus.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’ll see you at home.”
After he stomps off, my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Shannon telling me she’ll see me in an hour. My heart crashes into my chest.
I’m excited about our date.
Chapter Six
Shannon
After work, I rush over to the Kappa Delta sorority house to practice the dance routine for this weekend with my sisters. I stumble through the front door, already fifteen minutes late. Abby has a strict policy about being on time.
She narrows her eyes at me when I walk into the living room, crossing her arms over her chest. “Where were you?”
“My professor wanted to talk to me after class,” I lie.
Only a few of my sisters are aware of my financial situation. Abby is the last person I would ever tell anything personal. She still believes my parents have money and that I can afford to buy expensive clothes. Jordan is her closest friend. She would ever tell on me, not when she helps me conceal the truth.
For a second, Abby glares before extending her hand for me to take my place among my sisters. “Now…” she hisses, turning back to the group, “… where were we before we?”
I roll my eyes at the back of her head, and Jordan notices. A smirk turns up the right corner of her mouth as our eyes meet.
In a hurry, I strip off my jacket and assume my position in line. Abby raises her hands above her head, gesturing for us to follow. Our routine is ridiculous. I hate the fact we have to dance on a bar this weekend for money. It’s for a charitable cause, so I guess that makes it less demoralizing. Still, I’m not thrilled about shaking my ass for any amount of money for any reason. But I can’t be the only girl in my sorority to bail.
I rock my hips from side to side, holding my arms out in front of me as I sink to the floor along with my sisters. We’re dancing to a classic rock song mixed with a techno beat. Abby’s so rich she knows a famous DJ who sent her the custom song. She’s convinced it will be the reason we’ll win. I believe it’s because she knows the owner of The Sixth Floor.
After close to an hour of dancing, Abby dismisses us. Jordan grabs my hand and leads me up to her bedroom. A massive four-poster bed occupies the center of the room. Soft light filters through the windows that span the right side, peeking through the silky white curtains. The furnishings are expensive, most likely from Crate & Barrel or Pottery Barn.
She drops on the mattress and pats the open space next to her for me to sit. “Everything okay with you?”
“Yeah.” I force a smile. “I missed the bus. That’s why I was late.”
Jordan nods, running her hand over the white duvet. “My dry cleaner got the stain out of the dress. So don’t worry about it. Okay?”
Covering my heart with my hand, I let out a sigh of relief that turns into a genuine smile. “How much do I owe you?”
She waves her hand, a tiny smile crossing her lips. “Nothing. Jamie took care of it.”
My smile quickly turns into a frown.
