A vinyl scratched to a halt (in my mind of course), and I looked over at the ever-so-arrogant face of Gray Peters.

Chapter Eight

Katharine’s arms were wider than the Pacific Ocean when she pulled me in for a hug. I couldn’t focus on her. I was here for one reason only: ruin DJ Sinister’s night. Oh, whoops, I mean DJ Lesbos’s night (yes, I suggested that to Katharine).

Katharine was a tool—on all levels. She was a jerk, and I’d use her like a crowbar to tear Sinister apart if I could. A little known secret: I was repulsed by these gutless sorority types. The girls I slept with were usually GDIs (Goddamn Independents). I found them more refreshing and adventurous. Less need to define relationships or get pinned, whatever that meant.

After overhearing Sydney’s phone conversation, it became my mission to get to this party. So I made a few calls and got myself on the VIP list, but I forced the guys to come with me. I couldn’t sit in the corner, listening to Katharine’s bullshit all night.

To be completely honest, I was a little pissed at Katharine. She might have changed her name for the night, but DJ wasn’t in pink. She was in a slinky black dress, and for some unknown reason, I checked the eyes of every male in the room, satisfied their gazes were on the bimbos in front of them. If anyone was going to mess with her tonight, it would be me.

Sydney’s gaze flew to me with the sharpness of a thousand knives. Nearly snarling like a rabid dog, she dumped one track over another. A husky voice billowed over a slow beat. It was highly sexual. Heavy breathing. Panting. Then a beautiful lull engulfed the crowd.

Now all eyes were on the DJ, but she was looking down. The moment Katharine turned to look at me, Sydney flipped her the bird. The line of girls behind Katharine chuckled, glancing at Sydney with brief admiration.

Adding a light piano track to the mix, she faded completely into a fast beat, taking the room into dance mode. The girls squealed, obviously recognizing a part of the song, and grabbed onto one another. In less than two seconds, she’d taken them from zombies to vibrant.

The girls surrounded the DJ booth in a semicircle, pumping their fists in the air. She looked at them with a beaming smile and picked up a pair of headphones. Covering one ear, she nodded to the beat. Then she kicked it up to nuclear. It was magic, and I hated her for it. Everyone was on the floor but me. I was stubbornly leaning against the cheap fake Greek column in the corner.

“Come on.” Katharine grabbed my arm, trying to pull me onto the dance floor. “Let’s dance.”

I shook my head. It would make Sinister’s day if I actually enjoyed her music. “Waiting for my boys.”

Katharine bobbed to the music, regarding DJ Lesbos with honest respect. “She’s good. Like really fucking good.”

“She’s all right,” I said, crossing my arms as Katharine left my side to join her friends. I would do everything within my power to stay off the dance floor.

Not two seconds later, Sinister popped up her head, looked at me, and pressed a button. “Oh my God, is that Gray Peters? He’s got the clap. Everyone clap,” resonated through the speakers.

It was her voice as a sound effect, in a high-pitched tone mocking sorority girls nationwide. Bitch must have practiced hoping I’d show my face.

Every eye turned on me as I stood sulking in the corner. Then they all lifted their hands in the air and clapped. I was in hell. Sydney smirked and moved her chin from side to side to show me what’s up, then raised her tiny fist when a new hard beat broke up the slower one. All the girls shrieked as it entered a Taylor Swift song (don’t ask how I knew that).

A blonde I could only assume was the elusive Allison, came around her booth and gave Sydney a hug. Blondie looked so relieved, and I was reminded how hard Katharine was on the pledges.

Sydney slid off her earphones and placed them on the girl’s head. Then she stood behind her, showing her how to use the crossfade and track buttons. There was a huge build. Then at just the right moment, Sydney swiped the girl’s hand over a bar. The song was joined by an earth-shattering beat that knocked the crowd to their knees.

The girl looked so happy. It was crushing. Then Sydney raised her hands in the air and twisted next to her friend as a woman’s voice rang over the speaker in a sexy melodic tone. The same woman that started the song. The words “you never said good-bye” pulsed through the speakers, causing another ridiculous uproar.

“Okay, we’re here.” Annoyed grunts came from behind me, and I turned to find my boys.

I’d made sure Katharine invited Jack, Fernando, and Chance. Jack was going to get drunk tonight, although he didn’t know it yet. If I knew anything about Sydney, she was protective of her little brother. Him getting drunk before her very eyes would set her off. As if on cue, Sydney’s eyes fell on Jack, then shot to mine, where I was sure to give her a smug grin.

She looked so different tonight, with makeup and her hair curled. She could have stepped right into this sorority and ended Katharine’s evil reign. I hated to admit it, but she was ten times prettier than these girls. Mainly because of the disgusting confidence wafting from her with every swipe over the crossfade. While all these other girls, Katharine included, fought for adulation from the men in the room, Sydney was happy dancing by herself, not giving a crap.

She was out of her usual baggy little kid clothes that hid her figure. In that black dress, she was all curves, undulating hills of soft skin. A bit of cleavage fell along the cut of her dress, showing off her breasts. The lights above the booth emphasized their roundness and the sweat gleaming from them rivaled the images in Chance’s porn magazines. Damn.

“What the hell, man?” Jack’s voice cut through my daze. “You didn’t tell me my sister would be here. This isn’t cool. She doesn’t like to see me drink.”

Chance glanced down at my pants and shook his head. “Katharine works fast.”

Yes, my dick was at full attention. I said Sydney was a bitch, not hideous.

Ignoring Chance, I wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulders. “Be cool, Jack. Does your sister tell you what to do?” I entered motivational speaker mode. “You’re a man, Jack. You work hard. You deserve to have fun. Get drunk for once. Come on.”

I sent Chance and Fernando a pointed stare, pressing them for backup.

“Yeah, Jack,” they said in unison. Then Chance added, “We all deserve to blow off a little steam. Get a drink. Get laid.”

I watched Jack scan the room full of vulnerable wannabe Greeks.

“She’s hot.” I pointed at Blondie standing next to Sydney.

“Yeah, that brunette’s smoking,” Chance said, following my finger.

“Chance, that’s my sister,” Jack snapped, sending him a death glare. Little tyke had bite when his sister was involved.

“Not her.” I guided Jack’s shoulders to face Blondie. “That one. She looks like she needs to be loved on tonight.”

Jack peered at me with a somewhat disgusted look. Even I was disgusted, but this was part of the game, and Jack was my pawn.

I’d spent the last few nights perusing the infamous Sunday Lane’s recorded podcasts. She was dangerously close to being exposed, but I needed to play my cards close to my vest. Sydney was the type of girl that if you said her dick was hanging out, she’d helicopter it just to spite you. She was crafty, and skill must be fought with skill.

As if Sydney Porter were reading my mind, and not in a good way, the blonde waltzed up to us with eyes locked on Jack.

She stopped in front of him, delivering a sexy smile. “Hi there. You’re cute.” With her finger, she touched the tip of his nose like he was kitten.