Frat House Confessions--Ridge, Page 3

  I chuckled.

  “Wait, she wants you to help her get women?” I asked incredulously. “And, how are you going to do that? With your vast knowledge of eighties movies?”

  Unless things had changed drastically in the two years since I’d left home, I knew Wes was the last person anyone should ask for dating advice.

  My brother had zero game.

  “I know how to talk to girls,” Wes protested.

  “Dude, you dated one girl in high school, Cynthia, and you knew her your whole life. All you guys did was eat lunch together at school one day and boom, you were dating. Have you ever even asked someone out on a date.”

  Wes thinned his lips and I knew I was right.

  “You better be careful,” I warned him, placing my hand on his shoulder. “College chicks are different than high school. They may be just a few months older, but something happens when they get out on their own. If you don’t deliver what she’s asking, there’s bound to be some blowback. Especially if she comes through for you.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he said, shrugging my hand off. “She’s a nice person, you’ll see.”

  I lifted a shoulder.

  What could I do? I’d warned him, now he was on his own.

  “All right, well, I’m gonna go get ready, I’ll see you at the party,” I said, but before I could turn and head back up, he stopped me.

  “Hey, have you heard from Brody?”

  “Nah, not in a couple weeks. Why?” I asked.

  “Mom said he’s acting weird … staying out all night, hanging out with guys she doesn’t know. She’s worried.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” I scoffed. “He’s a senior for God’s sake, what does she expect, him to be home sitting down with her for dinner at the formal table, serving her cocktails?”

  “Ridge,” Wes warned, his tone impatient. “She’s not as bad as you make her out to be.”

  “Actually, she’s worse,” I replied, and was officially done with the conversation.

  I turned and started up the stairs.

  “What about Brody?” Wes called up after me.

  “I’ll call him later,” I said, then walked down the hall and switched my mind to other things.

  Namely, the upcoming party and my deal with Karrie. I found myself wondering what horrible slacker gear she’d show up in this time.

  I could hardly wait to find out.

  Six

  Karrie

  “I’m starting to think you have a serious problem and need, like, an intervention or something,” Ermina said as I laced up my Doc Martins.

  “Mina, I’m fine, I swear,” I assured her.

  “But, you’re going to Delta house, right? Dressed like that?” she asked, waving her hand over me in distaste.

  I sighed.

  “Yes, but, it’s not what you think … I’ll explain it all later, I promise, but right now, I have to go or I’m going to be late.”

  “Would you at least put on some lipstick? Mascara? Please?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her.

  “Next time, promise,” I said as I hurried out the door. She was still frowning at me as I closed it behind me.

  Checking my phone, I swore when I saw the time and hurried to my bicycle.

  Ten minutes later, I swung into the Delta driveaway, ignored all the stares from well-dressed frat boys and their dowdy-looking dates, and parked my bike on the side of the house.

  “Did you just ride here on a bike?”

  I finished putting the kickstand down and glanced up to see Ridge leaning on the side of the house.

  “Why are you always leaning on walls?” I asked, ignoring his question, because surely it was rhetorical.

  “It accentuates my length and gives me the chance to watch everyone around me,” he answered, pushing off and walking closer.

  Not wanting to be overly predictable, I fought back an eye roll and simply scowled at him.

  Ridge stopped in front of me, looked me up and down, and smirked.

  “What?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “Well, you can keep the Docs, but the rest of it…”

  “You told me to dress down so the makeover would look miraculous, or whatever. You should be happy.”

  “You realize we’ve only met three times, and you’ve been wearing that same T-shirt every time, don’t you?”

  I looked down, then shrugged and said, “It’s comfortable.”

  “I hope you at least wash it…”

  “Obviously. Just because I like comfort doesn’t mean I’m dirty.”

  Seriously, this fucking guy.

  “And, sweatpants?” Ridge asked, glaring at said pants. “Sweatpants are okay on Sunday mornings, or when the Dodgers lose the World Series, but I have a feeling this is every day normal attire for you.”

  “Yeah, well, we don’t all have to be Mr. GQ twenty-four seven,” I shot back.

  “When I look good, I feel good about myself. It’s about confidence, and feeling my best. You should try it,” he replied, not rising to my bait.

  I huffed and felt my shoulders droop.

  “I used to, ya know,” I said, looking past him, not wanting to meet those eyes. “I used to take care with how I looked, then Drake dumped me out of nowhere and I didn’t see the point. After time, this became like my uniform, and eventually, my armor. Dressed this way, I know guys will leave me alone, and honestly, it’s easier that way. There’s no way I’m putting myself out there again, not after Drake.”

  “Hey,” Ridge said softly, his fingers grasping my chin, urging me to look at him. “Don’t give that asshole any more power than he’s already had. Fuck him. He’s in the past, now it’s time for you to focus on the future. Let’s get this shit over with tonight and then both of our plans will be set in motion. I promise, by the time we’re done with you, Drake’s going to be begging you to take him back.”

  “As if,” I scoffed.

  Because, honestly, there was no fucking way Drake could ever make up for what he did to me.

  “That’s right, and we both know it’s right, but Drake doesn’t. He’s too much of a tool to realize his actions have consequences, but I for one am looking forward to teaching him that lesson.”

  I smiled up at Ridge.

  “Me, too,” I replied, then looked around and asked, “He’s not going to be here tonight though, right?”

  Ridge shook his head.

  “Deltas and the girls they’re entering into the comp only.”

  I nodded and couldn’t deny I felt relief.

  Ridge offered his arm and asked, “Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” I replied, tucking my arm around his.

  “Let’s do this.”

  We rounded the house and started up the stairs.

  “Pledge!” Ridge shouted to no one in particular.

  An eager-looking blonde guy came running over. “Yes, Sarg?”

  “I’ll take a beer,” Ridge said, before turning his attention to me and asking, “What’ll you have?”

  “Beer.”

  “Two beers from my stash,” he told the pledge, who nodded before turning and hurrying off.

  “Poor guy,” I murmured as I watched him go. “I could have gotten my own beer.”

  “Nah, that’s what the pledges are here for. It’s like a rite of passage. Believe me, I served plenty of beer back in my day.”

  We walked inside and I noticed that most everyone had moved into the house. There were guys wearing “pledge” shirts, along with the older, well-dressed guys, who were obviously already part of the frat.

  Scattered throughout the rooms were the girls the pledges brought, all looking their worst, with eyes downcast and shoulders hunched, as if they were embarrassed to be seen out in public.

  “These girls all know why they’re here, right?” I asked Ridge, thinking I was about to lose my shit if they were here under false pretenses.

  “Yeah, killer, don’t worry, even Crush isn’t that m
uch of a prick. It’s all in good fun,” he whispered back, leaning down so that I felt his hot breath against my ear.

  A shiver ran through me.

  God, he smells good.

  “You okay? Cold? I can run up and grab you a hoodie,” Ridge offered.

  I looked up to see if he was messing with me, but he wasn’t even looking at me, he was surveying the room. It appeared his offer had been completely genuine and he hadn’t noticed my reaction to him.

  Thank goodness. The last thing I needed was for Ridge to think I was even remotely attracted to him. This was a strictly professional relationship. Him smelling good, keeping his room clean, and acting like an occasional gentleman was just a bonus.

  “No, I’m good, but thanks.”

  “Here you go, Sarg, do you need anything else?”

  The pledge was back.

  I accepted the bottle of Stella and said, “Thanks,” to the pledge, before glancing up at Ridge and saying, “Fancy.”

  “Only the best, baby,” Ridge said with a wink.

  Annnnd … we’re back to eye-rolling.

  Seven

  Ridge

  “Welcome, welcome. I’m ready to get started,” Crush called, causing everyone to look to where he was standing, on top of the ledge in front of the fireplace in the common room. “I’d like to say thanks to all the ladies who agreed to help these poor, insignificant pledges. Their mission is to turn you all into the hottest girls on campus in time for the big Delta Homecoming party.”

  Crush paused and looked around the room. I don’t know if he thought he had the room eating out of the palm of his hands or what, but while the pledges looked scared, the girls looked kinda pissed.

  “Tonight, I will personally meet each and every one of you and either approve or disapprove of the pledges’ choice. If I approve, we’ll see you back here Homecoming night; if I disapprove, that pledge is out of the running. The pledge who wins gets fifty points, and the opportunity to have a private dinner with the board.”

  Karrie poked my shoulder, so I leaned down.

  “What are the points for?” she whispered in my ear.

  “The pledges earn points to become members,” I replied.

  “And, what’s the benefit of a dinner with the board?”

  I glanced at her, saw she was seriously curious, and said, “It gives them the opportunity to talk to us individually … privately, and give us more insight into who they are as a person, rather than just a pledge. It’s hard to give individual attention to each pledge, and they usually don’t get that chance until we’ve already gone through two rounds of weeding them out.”

  “Hmmm,” Karrie murmured, then asked, “But, what’s in it for the girls?”

  “What’s in it for you, you may be asking,” Crush began, and I stood back up, wondering what his answer would be. “Well, other than having access to the Deltas and our house over the next few weeks during the competition, the winning girl will have an open invite to every Delta event during her career here at U of M.”

  I glanced down to see Karrie’s reaction and chuckled when she gave me a dry stare.

  “To give you an idea of what I’m looking for,” Crush continued. “Bella…”

  He held his hand out and Bella, his fuck buddy, came out of the kitchen and started moving through the crowd. The pledges and their girls parted, all eyes on Bella as she strutted toward Crush.

  Wearing stilettos, a skin-tight leather dress, and what I’d bet a Benjamin was a wig, Bella placed her hand in his and let him pull her up onto his makeshift stage.

  When she turned and faced the crowd, there was an audible gasp.

  Yeah, sure, Bella was gorgeous, but she was seventy-five percent fake and one-hundred percent a raging bitch.

  Not exactly who the young girls on campus should aspire to be.

  “This is what a winner looks like,” Crush said with a dumbass grin.

  “What a dipshit,” Karrie muttered and I grinned down at her.

  “Right?” I agreed.

  “So, go forth … eat, drink, and get ready for my inspection,” Crush said, hopping down off the stage and leaving Bella on display.

  God, what a fucking douche.

  “You hungry?” I asked Karrie. “There’s some pizza and chips and stuff in the kitchen.”

  She lifted a shoulder and replied, “I can always eat.”

  I put my hand on the small of her back and led her to the kitchen.

  Once inside, I rounded the counter and grabbed some paper plates. Luckily, no one else had come in search of food yet; they were probably all anxiously awaiting Crush’s decision.

  I handed Karrie a plate and noticed her watching me warily.

  “What?” I asked, opening pizza boxes until I found a supreme.

  “So, are we dating now?”

  She put air quotes over dating.

  I looked toward the door to make sure no one was coming before turning back to her and saying, “I figured we’d ease into it. We’ll be spending time with each other as we work on your makeover, and eventually we’ll start incorporating PDA and I’ll drop hints that we’re dating.”

  Karrie grabbed a pepperoni and sausage slice and jumped up on the counter to sit.

  “I’ve been wondering,” she began, her gaze on me pensive. “If we just need to convince your mom that we’re dating over Thanksgiving, why do we need to pretend over the next few months? Here? Can’t we save it for the trip?”

  I shook my head.

  “My brother’s a pledge. I need to start the ruse here so he gets wind of it and tells our mom; that way, it’ll be more believable when I take you home. Since Wes goes to school here and’s a pledge, he would know if I was seriously dating someone.”

  “We’re going to lie to your brother?” she asked, not looking happy about it.

  “Yeah, at least until after Thanksgiving,” I told her. “I’ll come clean once we get back and have officially broken up. Wes is a total mama’s boy. I need him to believe we’re together so that she’ll believe we’re together.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I shifted to see my brother walking into the kitchen, a petite girl with long black hair and a scowl following behind him.

  “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, pledge,” I replied, hoping he hadn’t heard what Karrie and I’d been discussing. “How’s it going? You guys have your meet with Crush yet?”

  “Guy’s a total dick,” the raven-haired chick scoffed.

  “That he is,” I agreed. “Hi, I’m Ridge, Sergeant at Arms, and this rude asshole’s older brother.”

  “Trixie,” she replied, shaking my offered hand.

  “And, this is Karrie, my date for the evening,” I said, turning to include Karrie, who was watching us from her perch. “Karrie, my brother, Wes, and his offering for the night, Trixie.”

  “Hey, Karrie, it’s nice to meet you,” Wes said, finally remembering his manners and moving to take her hand in his.

  His eyes were twinkling and he held her hand for a bit longer than necessary, so I walked over to him and pulled him away

  “Hands off my date,” I told him, needing to establish boundaries, and interest, right off the bat if he was ever going to believe Karrie and I were dating by Thanksgiving.

  I wasn’t exactly known for dating seriously and had never taken anyone home to meet the parents.

  Wes looked up at me, surprise evident on his face, and held up his hands in surrender.

  “You got it,” he replied, and backed away.

  “Nice to meet you, Wes … Trixie,” Karrie said, placing her plate next to her with only the crust left.

  “You’re not going to eat the crust?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t like it. Too much dough.”

  “That’s sacrilege. You can’t call yourself a pizza connoisseur and not eat the crust.”

  “Good thing I don’t call myself that, then,” Karrie said as she hopped down. “Do we need
to go in and meet Crush so we can get his approval?

  She said Crush with a sneer that I enjoyed.

  “Fuck that,” I replied. “I’m not part of the competition, so Crush has zero say in you, me, or how we decide to make you over.”

  “Okay,” Karrie said, wiping her hands with a napkin. “What should we do then?”

  “Beer pong?” I suggested.

  She grinned at me and replied, “You’re on.”

  Eight

  Karrie

  I caught a glance of myself in the mirror while I washed my hands, and a giggle escaped my lips.

  My flannel shirt was now tied around the waist of my cutoff sweats, so you could see all of the writing on my favorite T-shirt, which showcased different lyrics from Thirty Seconds to Mars songs. Paired with my Docs and completely messy up-do, I looked totally grunge.

  Like I’d walked right out of a portal from the nineties.

  I swear, I’d seen Crush’s lip curl up when he saw me and Ridge playing beer pong. Which, by the way, Ridge obviously had a lot of experience in, because I was totally smashed and he seemed no worse for the wear.

  Wes, on the other hand, had passed out in the corner of the room. Trixie had looked at him with contempt and gone home with a few of the other girls.

  Still giggling, I swung open the bathroom door to see Ridge leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes on me.

  “You’re leaning again,” I told him, trying not to trip over my feet as I stepped into the hall.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked, ignoring my observation and taking me by the arm to help me stay upright.

  “Nothin’, just how rad you look.”

  “Rad, huh?”

  “Yup,” I said, popping the p.

  “Do you want me to take you home, or would you rather go up to my room and crash here?”

  I swung my head toward him, much too quickly, and asked, “Is it safe?”

  “Safe? What, to go to my room?” he asked, pulling me against him when I started to waiver.