Pretending Hearts (3 page)

A black Range Rover pulled up next to the curb and honked. Georgie waved and I followed behind her. A girl in her early twenties rolled down the window and bared her teeth in a way that somewhat resembled a smile. “Hey whore. Need a ride?”

“Sure thing, bitch,” Georgie laughed in response. When Fallon barked out a short laugh, I joined in as well. I was trying to fit in, but I did feel a little out of place around Georgie. I knew nothing of summer mansions, Fendi handbags, and convertibles as sweet sixteen birthday presents.

Fallon introduced herself as I climbed into the back seat of her car. She was striking, but lacked Georgie’s softness. Fallon’s tight features were accentuated by her bob haircut and severe bangs. She appeared overdressed for a frat party—wearing a black cocktail dress and a string of pearls. As I considered Georgie’s gossip about her friend, I wondered whom the pearls belonged to.

“Where’s Wyatt?” Georgie asked as she fastened her seatbelt.

Fallon turned to Georgie and gave her a bored look. “You know my brother. He only considers me his sister when he’s failing his International Relations class and needs me to write his term papers.”

Georgie met my gaze through the rearview mirror. “Wyatt is Fallon’s brother and a senior.”

I nodded before turning my head to look outside as we drove away from campus. I pulled my phone out of my purse and quelled my disappointment when I noticed the only calls and texts I received were from my parents. I replied back that I was fine, my roommate was nice, and I’d call them both in a few days.

The Alpha Gamma Rho house was minutes away from campus. I didn’t recognize the neighborhood and figured we were on the opposite side of town from my brother’s off-campus apartment. Although I had visited my brother frequently, I was only familiar with the Cook campus and a few landmarks near his place.

I heard the fraternity house before I saw it. A deep bass thrummed from a two-story colonial in a heavy state of disrepair. The cement stairs were crumbling in several places and I could see roof shingles missing. One of the front windows had shattered and was boarded up. The only thing missing was a condemned sign hanging on the front door.

“Our first frat party!” Georgie squealed and I couldn’t help but smile. Even if the party turned out to be a bust, I was still psyched over the possibility of making new friends.

Fallon could only find parking down the block—making for a long trek back to the frat house. A car double-parked at the curb in front of the house and let out a group of people. Georgie, Fallon and I followed them through the front door.

At the door, a fraternity brother was collecting ten dollars from the guys, but letting the girls in at no charge. He eyed us with interest, and Georgie smiled coyly in response. Once inside, I kept close to Georgie as I surveyed the party. I tried to rewind to the last party I’d attended, but I was drawing a blank. After my father’s downfall, I wasn’t invited to many high school parties. However, I assumed they were similar to the one before me: bodies crushed together in a cramped space, the smell of alcohol and smoke permeating the air.

I looked to Georgie for guidance. I really hoped she didn’t plan to ditch me since I didn’t know anyone yet at the college. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but my hope was Autumn wouldn’t be caught dead at a frat party and I wouldn’t have the misfortune of running into her.

There had been a short mixer earlier in the day with our dorm’s floormates. We met our resident advisor and did a few cornball icebreakers to get to know the other freshman on our floor. I peered around the party to see if I saw any familiar faces, but came up blank.

“Let’s get a drink,” Georgie suggested. With a sly smile, she sashayed across the room. The house had an open floor plan with a connecting living room, dining room and kitchen. The layout was convenient since we were able to quickly locate the keg in the kitchen.

A few guys had glanced our way as we pushed through the crowds. I felt on display—as if my naïve freshman status was tattooed on my forehead. Georgie took two plastic cups of beer being handed out at the keg and offered me one. I steadied my trembling hands as I took a large gulp. The beer was warm, but I wouldn’t mind a buzz to get over my nerves.

I was definitely of the cheap date variety. I usually only took a couple of drinks to lose my inhibitions. I hadn’t attended many parties, but I’d been drinking with the “boyfriends” I had in high school. For our dates, they would steal bottles from their parent’s liquor cabinets and mix us up a few poorly made drinks. I guessed a lot of boys saw me as easy and thought I’d be spread eagle on their beds after plying me with a couple long island iced teas. When you had a dad like mine, the expectation was I shared the same sexual appetites.

I wasn’t a virgin, but my sex life had been greatly exaggerated by the small-town gossips in Clark. I had lost my virginity at sixteen and had been with three other guys after him. I didn’t bother naming the guys in my head because they weren’t anyone special. I had sex because I wanted to—simple as that. I wasn’t looking for a relationship or to fall in love. I didn’t change my relationship status on Facebook the day after I slept with a guy. And I didn’t wait by the door for my flowers and candy delivery. Saying I was cynical was putting things mildly.

I thought being the
cool
girlfriend would make guys stick around, but the relationships always fizzled out. According to the boys I’d been with, I was too cold and sarcastic. They wanted girls who would swoon in their presence and shower them with false flattery. Boys wanted warm and fuzzy. They wanted girls like Georgie Cartwright.

“So what do you think so far?” Georgie lifted her cup and gestured around the house.

I laughed. “It’s been a long day, but I’m glad you asked me to come here with you.”

“My parents have had me collared all summer long. I couldn’t wait to move out. I get in one tiny car crash with my dad’s Porsche and they act like it’s the end of the world.” Georgie shook her head in disgust. She held up her cup in the air. “To a kick-ass year with a kick-ass roommate.”

“I’ll drink to that,” a low and deep voice rumbled behind me. I turned around and got momentarily caught up in a gorgeous pair of chocolate-brown eyes. I zoomed out and took in the rest of the stranger’s features. The guy was an artist’s dream: a straight nose, defined jaw, angled cheekbones. His smile was bright and wide as he stared at me. While I remained speechless, he ran his hands through his thick black hair.

“Christ, Wyatt, can you stop staring at my roommate like a huge freak?”

His stare moved away from my face and he looked in Georgie’s direction. “It’s nice to see you too, Georgia.”

Georgie jammed her thumb in the newcomer’s direction. “Delia, this is Fallon’s brother Wyatt. Wyatt, this is my roommate Delia.”

Wyatt was a far cry from the high school boys I’d been reminiscing over. He was an inch or so above my height, a feat in itself since I towered over most of the boys in my graduating class. Although he was casually dressed in a loose t-shirt and jeans, I could still make out how well-defined his body was. I noted the hard planes of his chest and torso when he twisted to face me. He made a sympathetic face. “Just to let you know, they give you two weeks to put in a room change request.”

Georgie gave him a whack on the arm. “You’re still the same jackass as always.”

Wyatt wrapped his arm around Georgie’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug. Georgie continued to glare at him. “You’re only mad because I wouldn’t hit that ass over Memorial Day weekend,” he said.

“You wish,” Georgie snorted. “I have standards, you know.”

“I’m messing with you, Georgia. Relax.” He made eye contact with me and opened his mouth to speak again when I heard his name shouted from behind. A guy from across the room was waving frantically, trying to get Wyatt’s attention. Wyatt frowned when he noticed the interloper. He said to me, “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”

Before I could reply, he hustled over to where his friend was standing. I gave Georgie a questioning look. She sighed. “Sorry for the weirdness. Fallon and Wyatt are a couple of years older than me and since our parents became friends, they’ve both treated me like their annoying younger sister.”

I purposely studied my fingernails. “Is there anything between you and Wyatt?”

Georgie giggled in response. She covered her mouth with her hand to quiet her laughter. “No. I don’t look at him in that way.” Her look was shrewd. “Why? Are you interested?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “We talked for like ten seconds. I was only wondering how you knew him.”

“Sure you were.” Her words were dripping with sarcasm. “Hey, I don’t blame you. Wyatt’s hot and he knows it. Plus, he’s the son of a senator and an amazing soccer player. He’s earned the right to be a little arrogant.”

I watched Wyatt out of the corner of my eye as he talked with his friend. Wyatt was the exact kind of guy I should set my sights on. He was handsome, athletic, and most importantly
rich
. His clothes were casual, but I was positive his designer t-shirt and jeans cost ten times more than my outfit from Forever 21. He seemed custom-designed by Cassie Bridges herself. A quality I had yet to decide was a good thing or not.

Fifteen minutes later, Wyatt found Georgie and me aimlessly wandering from room to room. He led us away from the crowd to a quiet hallway around the corner from the keg. A meaningful look passed between Georgie and Wyatt and seconds later, Georgie left us alone in search of Fallon. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended Georgie was giving her friend the go-ahead to make a move on me.

Wyatt didn’t say much at first, simply watching me over the rim of his plastic cup. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face. I was searching for any small flaw to bring him back down to earth with the rest of us.

After a long exhale, he asked, “What made you choose Cook?”

“I hear the soccer team is amazing,” I said in a mock awestruck voice.

Wyatt laughed. “So Georgia has been talking me up. I did slip her a fifty before when you weren’t looking.” His eyes shone with mischief. My heart picked up speed and I tried to stop myself from swallowing hard. He added, “I hope she’s told you all good things.”

“Just the bare minimum. You’re a senior soccer player who goes after young and impressionable freshman girls.”

“Sounds like a good assessment. Are you impressionable, Delia?”

I shook my head. “Not in the least.”

He moved in closer and lowered his voice. “Are you sure? Because I can be very persuasive.”

My face hurt from smiling back at him. He was an obvious flirt, but I was enjoying the attention. He felt out of my league. The rich and handsome boys of Clark never gave me the time of day unless I was willing to keep things between us a secret. The golden boys didn’t want my family to tarnish their impeccable reputations. My family’s scandals were public, but I was certain the wealthy Clark families hid plenty of their own dirty secrets like the hypocrites I suspected they were.

“I bet you can be,” I said, nodding my head. “Georgie did tell me you’re a political science major.”

He leaned back and studied me closely. “Did you choose a major yet?”

“No. I’m undecided.”

“Hopefully, not about me,” he tossed back. I wanted to roll my eyes, but I quelled the urge. I didn’t want my cynicism to scare him off. There was a high likelihood at least a dozen girls at the party would be willing to trade places with me and hijack Wyatt Johnston’s attention. For the entirety of our conversation, I sensed the envious stares tossed my way.

As we made more small talk, I felt unsure about Wyatt. Who was I kidding? I knew exactly where I wanted to take things with him. The guy practically oozed sex appeal and the closer he moved into my space, the more I felt the effect on my panties.

But, no matter what my body wanted, I planned to let my brain take control. Sleeping with assholes had become part of my repertoire and I needed to fight against my instincts.

Wyatt asked where I was from and I fidgeted as I told him I came from Clark. I didn’t want to lie about my background, but I also didn’t want Wyatt to make the connection I came from the same town as the school’s currently most famous alumni. Cook University was a Division II school and Blake being drafted to the NFL was a huge deal. Cook featured Blake in their latest promo materials in hopes of attracting more exceptional athletes to the college.

Blake being my brother had turned into a secret I planned to hold onto. I wanted to be accepted for who I was and not because I was Blake Preston’s sister. After being thrust into the limelight, I liked the normalcy of being another anonymous freshman.

Before he could dwell on my answer, I asked him where he was from. He hailed from New York and his father held a seat on the state senate. Georgie’s parents were partners in the law firm who represented Wyatt’s father and the two families had been friends for over ten years. As Wyatt talked about Georgie, I got the same vibe that nothing romantic ever developed between the two of them. Although I found Wyatt attractive, I didn’t want to screw over my new roommate if they had history.

Wyatt noticed my empty cup and offered to get us both a refill. While watching him walk away, I pressed my back into the wall. I took a few steadying breaths and tried to regain my senses. The day had been long and weird—but weird in a good way. After the rough start with my mom, I had expected the heavy feeling in my gut to follow me to campus. Georgie had made me forget all about my mom refusing to come to the college along with the awkwardness earlier with my dad. I’d never been good at making girlfriends and I was thrilled how easily I connected with Georgie. Meeting a sexy guy was the cherry on top of an amazing day.