You?“You mean Liv and me?”
“Yep.”
“But—but?—”
“Awesome, isn’t it?”
Even buzzed, I can feel the blood pounding in my head. “I—I don’t know.”
Wrinkles form on Zander’s forehead. “What’s the problem?”
I’m flabbergasted. How did this happen right under my nose? “No one asked me.”
“I’m asking you right now.”
“But I don’t know if I want to. I mean, I haven’t had a chance to think about it.”
“What’s to think about? You’re practically Sweetheart already.”
“Yeah, seriously,” Liv says, evidently listening in. “You’re the shoo-in. I’m just riding on your coattails.”
How is it I notice she’s just used a mixed metaphor, but I can’t wrap my brain around the implications of this conversation?
“You want another drink?” Zander asks, regarding me like I’m coming down with something. “Or some more cake?”
No, I need to sober up. Fast. But I take the offer of cake in hopes of redirecting the conversation. Unfortunately, my effort fails. While Zander’s at the kitchen island, plopping a man-sized piece of devil’s food onto a plate, Braden nudges me with his toe.
“So what do you say, Betsy? You in?”
Next week, I’ll be using witchcraft to communicate with the dead, and I’m not frightened by the idea at all. But becoming an O-Chi Sweetheart? The mere thought of it immobilizes me. “Can I think about it?”
Braden grins. “Don’t worry, if you dump Zander’s sorry ass, the rest of us’ll still want you.”
I attempt a light laugh. “Good to know.” That was a concern thatflitted through my fuzzy mind. But it’s not the only one. Or the most important.
Liv isn’t so easily put off. She leans down and hisses in my ear, “What’s your deal?”
“Did you know about this?”
“Braden and I talked about it, but I didn’t know they already agreed to ask us.” She’s excited. Happy. Her eyes shine as she bounces her knees. “It’s perfect. Who needs a sorority when you have these guys?”
“I just wish someone would’ve told me.”
She narrows those dark brown eyes. “I don’t get what the problem is.”
I whisper back, “Remember everything I told you after I dropped out of Rush? Well, it all still applies.”
“Why? You’re already in the club. It’s a perfect fit.”
Yeah, but as Sweetheart I’d have official duties—in service to the brothers and the organization. My whole life would be O-Chi. O-Chi events (that I would have to organize, for god’s sake), O-Chi parties, O-Chi meetings. O-Chi, O-Chi, O-Chi.
Two Greek letters that would mark my identity.
Property of the men of Omega Chi.
When Zander returns with my cake, I mindlessly shovel it into my mouth. Braden takes the game controller from Cole and starts battling Jenna. He’s a mouthy player, making other conversation impossible. So I take advantage of the moment to ask Zander if we can go upstairs to talk.
“Sure.” He grabs us each a beer on the way.
