“Nice try, McKinnon,” Lars says, removing his goalie pads all normal-like, as if I’m not breaking down in the middle of the locker room.
All the guys have turned my way. None of them are about to let me off the hook—but not in the way I feared.
Shep pulls out his phone and flicks through the camera roll. “This was taken at around two in the morning that night—a selfie of me on the roof, shirtless, trying to convince the DG girls to let me do a keg stand dangling headfirst over the edge.”
There’s a low rumble of laughter. Someone else adds, “And this was ten minutes later—Enayat and Juno doing shots off the ping-pong table.”
Fucking Enayat and Juno—always doing crazy things together.
Bender leans in. “Point is, it could’ve been any one of us, Cap. You just happened to be Andy’s target. We don’t blame you for shit. Andy’s the villain of this story.”
The words lock in my throat. My chest tightens in the worst and best way. They don’t just absolve me; they still believe in me.
Shep slaps a hand on my shoulder. “You’re our captain, Ace. Nice try getting out of it, though.”
“A goalie’s nothing without his defense,” Lars says. “Same as a captain without his team behind him. I’ll ride into battle with you, Cap. I volunteer myself to help hunt down that fucking rat Andy.”
“Me too.”
“And me!”
A few guys chime in.
Something cracks open in me. Not guilt. Not shame. Resolve. If they’re gonna stand behind me through thick and thin, then I have to dig deep, and step up.
“I’m going to get our funding back,” I promise them without any clue as to how I’m going to do that.
Just that I will.
I knock on the door like they haven’t already seen me coming. Knowing Beta Sigma, they probably have a perimeter alarm and facial recognition wired into their security system since the remodel. This is a new porch, and did the Beta Sigma House always have that massive gazebo out back? It would be sick for parties.
I’m flanked by Shep and Bender, who—for once—aren’t glued at the hip. Unfortunately, I think it’s because of a lovers’ spat. I don’t know what they are exactly—neither will say—but whatever they are, they fight a lot more than Shep and Huddy ever did.
But I’m glad they could put their feud aside and be here as a presence today. I’m still not sure I’m not on the Beta Sigma’s Most Wanted List. They could be waiting to grab me, so they can plastic wrap me to a tree naked—the modern-day version of tar and feathering.
The door swings open. I don’t know this guy, but he’s tall, lanky, and has a mullet worse than mine.
“I need to speak to your president,” I say in a voice I hope carries command, and, okay, I totally infuse some of what I hope is the magic ingredient that seems to make people obsess over me. I need that on my side right now.
“That’s me,” a voice says from behind. “Bring them into the common room, Alec.”
Huh, that was too easy. I expected the door to slam in our faces for the first couple of attempts.
Their common room is freshly remodeled. Hardwood floors, giant TVs, a full arcade, pool tables, the works. Fuck. This is nicer than our common room. It’s giving VIP bottle service meets nerdcore. Or possibly a kinky sex club with a Mario Kart addiction. Haven’t decided yet.
We take seats on black leather couches that are way too nice for a frat house. I suddenly feel wildly underdressed in gym clothes. Damien Tommel, their president, is wearing a full suit. Don’t know if he’s about to make a Clock App video or sell us a condo.
“We had a feeling you’d show up on our doorstep, tail between your legs, McKinnon,” Damien says.
Deep breath. Don’t strangle him.Channel Dad. Dad eats at these kinds of negotiations. Something has to have rubbed off on me, right? Mom … well she was a hockey player. She would have strangled him.
I run a hand through my hair. Dad would tell me to figure out what the guy really wants. That’s the key to every negotiation.I have the answer to that question, because it’s the same thing every college student wants. Fuck, they were willing to go to war over it. It’s something I’m more than willing to offer.
“We need your help, and in exchange, we’ll give you what you want.”
“And what is it we want, McKinnon?”
“Honeys, hotties, and popularity.”
