“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he shrugs. “You all have big bank accounts to support you if your pro careers don’t pan out. You can afford to take a risk for a friend.”
I know Luke is upset and doesn’t mean it.
“Dude, that’s out of order.” I clasp his shoulder. “You don’t mean that, right?”
“No.” He hangs his head as his voice breaks. “I don’t mean it. I’m so scared for Bex that I don’t know what the fuck is coming out of my mouth right now. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t hold it against you if you come from wealth. And Keene, dude, you fucking earned every cent you have, and I admire you. You’re also one hell of a d-man. You don’t know my sister, so I can’t expect you to ruin your chances to finish your education and get an NHL contract for someone you don’t know. I just wish you didn’t judge every woman based on how your ex treated you, that’s all.”
Keene’s glare dims a few notches, in a way that on anyone else would probably look like a smile. “Don’t sweat it. Sorry we can’t help you.” He grumbles, and I think he might mean it.
We stare at one another for a long moment.
“Guys,” I’m the first to break the silence. “We agree that letting Bex stay with us wouldn’t work. But people have friends or significant others staying for a weekend all the time. Our dorms are technically coed, so I don’t think it would be too risky to give Luke until the long weekend is over. Right?”
Connor is the first one to agree. “Yeah, that sounds reasonable.”
“Keene?” I ask.
“Fine.” He huffs. “But you better believe that if she isn’t gone by Tuesday night, I’ll sic Poonani on her.”
That doesn’t give Luke a ton of time to find a place for Bex, but it’s better than nothing.
Chapter9
The Zeta House
Bex
“What do you think, Lady M?” I ask my goldfish as I admire my reflection in the full-length mirror in Luke’s bedroom.
As if she heard me, my new friend swims to the surface of her brand new fishbowl and waves her tails, creating ripples of water against the walls.
“I’m glad you like your new home,” I smile at her, touching the sides of the bowl with my fingers. “Luke was very generous to us. You got a nice new home, and I got some new clothes.”
My brother took me to the mall this morning and insisted on buying me a little black dress in addition to some everyday items. Then he broke the news at brunch that his roommates were unanimously against letting me stay more than a couple of nights.
“Bexie-Boo,” there’s a knock on the door. “Are you presentable?”
“Come in,” I call out, smoothing the short skirt of my dress.
Luke looks handsome in a button-down shirt and dark jeans; his blond hair is swept to the side, his face clean shaven.
“I forgot how well you clean up.” I compliment him, getting up on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.
His eyes travel the length of my body to assess me. “You look beautiful, sis.”
I squeeze his hand. “Thanks to you. You didn’t have to buy me a dress.”
“I wanted to,” he says softly. “Besides, I had a little ulterior motive. I wanted you to look like a million bucks at tonight’s party.”
He invited me to a party thrown by Zeta Theta Beta, the most prestigious sorority on this campus. They’re returning the favor after attending yesterday’s party hosted by Gamma Delta Tau. The fraternity Luke—and most of the hockey team—belong to.
The two houses are linked here in Star Cove, like they are in Bridgeport. I considered rushing Zeta Theta Beta my freshman year, but Dad was against it. He considered the Greek organizations a distraction that his clients should avoid at all costs. He wanted our full focus to be on our academics and on our sports and artistic disciplines.
Back then, I was disappointed, but I thought he knew better. Now I have to think that he saw fraternities and sororities as obstacles to gaining full control of his clients’ lives.
“Are you worried about the Zetas judging you if your sister isn’t dressed to impress?” I tease him.
“I might have some ulterior motives for wanting the Zetas to like you.” He offers.
