“This is an argument?”

  “No, not yet, but I can see you debating inside that cute little head of yours as to whether you should carry this out and make it one. Just assuring you before you waste any more time.” He shrugged. “I will win.”

  I’d watched him so many times with Morgan; he’d tell her how it was and that was that. Though sometimes she did attempt to challenge him, in the end he was the triumphant one.

  A night in a clean, quiet, safe environment did sound like a godsend.

  Suddenly there was loud laughter from the other room just before the guy I’d seen watching Elijah all night came running out, looking over his shoulder. He was laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face. He held his stomach, and once he was in the clear, he bent over at the waist and began laughing even harder.

  Slurred words were being yelled from the next room just before Elijah stumbled through the opening and braced himself on the door frame.

  The guy scrambled even further away, almost falling over a few people in the process.

  “Where’s my pants?” Eli bellowed, and I instantly looked down, wondering what in the hell he was talking about. He was wearing pants. “Clayton?”

  He was obviously drunk; his head moved from side to side as if he was trying to locate the guy and he was straight across from him. Any sober person would have been able to see that.

  “My pants?” he barked again. “Where are my pants?”

  “You’re wearing them,” I spoke up and everyone began to laugh as Eli looked downward.

  He removed one hand from the door frame and began to pat along his leg and across his crotch. I followed his movements, just like I thought everyone else in the room was. Suddenly his hand slid around his hip and his eyes went wide.

  “They’re gone.” When he said that he looked around the room frantically and it almost broke my heart how worried he appeared.

  I started to step forward just as he turned around and that’s when I saw it—and so did everyone else in the room. His entire ass was bare to the world. The entire back of his pants were ripped out. I don’t mean just a small area—I’m saying the entire back end. Pockets and all—gone.

  I tried not to laugh as I continued forward, but I’ll admit I stumbled a step or two until I reached him. “They’re gone,” he repeated the words and at that moment there really was no hope of keeping a straight face.

  “They are,” I agreed, taking his hand in mine. “But if you let me help, I think we could find you another pair.”

  I pressed my lips together tightly to hold back my laughter when a look of relief covered his face. It would appear when the Giant did get hammered he was even cuter and maybe even a bit ridiculous. The normal confident powerful attitude faded.

  He allowed me to lead him from the room, and he at least had the sense to use the wall for his main support. Had he attempted to lean on me we would both on the floor and most likely I would be crushed. I think one of his thighs alone could possibly be the size of my waist.

  With Isaac’s help I was able to find a pair of shorts and very carefully the two of us got him changed. I was tempted to look, I won’t lie, and I probably would have had Isaac not been there to witness, but I looked away. That was until Eli stumbled g trying to take his foot out of the opening of his boxers and the next thing I know I got a dick to the face.

  Yes, you heard me, a dick to the face.

  Since Isaac refused to get even remotely close to Elijah’s front area while attempting to change his boxers, I had no way out of it. I sat down on the toilet lid, turning my head to the side as he held onto the side of the vanity. I tried my best to ignore the fact that I was eye level with his penis. Isaac stood behind him and with one quick jerk, Elijah’s ripped boxers pooled at his feet.

  The taking off part went smooth; it was putting another pair on that proved to be tasking. One leg in, and I took a deep breath, letting it out in relief.

  Then the second leg up had him stumbling and again I got a dick to the face.

  I swear I felt something hard, something other than flesh, but I remained frozen in place. I know my eyes had to be as wide as saucers.

  Laughter behind Elijah forced me to close my eyes, feeling humiliated.

  “You got cock slapped,” Isaac said through his laughter. “Like full on cock to the face, slapped.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I watched it; hell I heard it.” He continued to laugh and I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t asking “Really?”, I was saying it as in “Really, you need to remind me?”

  The night just kept getting better and better.

  The good thing was Eli was completely oblivious to the entire thing. I suspected Mr. Chuckles would inform him when Eli was sober once again, along with the rest of the house.

  I should have just let someone else dress him.

  “Thank you.” I looked up to find Eli staring down at me. I wasn’t sure he could focus enough to know it was actually me he was thanking. “My sweet kitty cat.”

  Okay, so he knew it was me. It made the humiliation I’d just felt seem almost worth it.

  That was until Isaac opened the bathroom door and the first thing he belted out was “Red just cock slapped Catherine!” Once again my cheeks felt heated and I tried to hide my face as I carefully helped Eli from the bathroom.

  Fifteen minutes later Elijah was snoring on the couch beside me, his head resting on my shoulder.

  “I need your help.” I looked up into the excited face of the guy who’d been eyeing Eli all night. “I already have the plan set but I need more hands.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  He shook his head. “No, more like annoying.” When I arched a brow he laughed. “For him, not us.” He pointed to the sleeping man at my side. “Completely safe, I promise, you can just say it’s payback for being slapped in the face with his—”

  I held up my hand to stop him. I’d heard it enough times already.

  “Okay fine.” I knew I might regret this. “I’ll help.”

  I carefully maneuvered my body out from beneath Elijah without disturbing him and followed the blond-haired guy. “I’m Clayton, by the way.” He paused by a door and offered me a smile.

  “I know. I heard Eli shout your name when he came out the front door of the house. I’m Cat.”

  “Your name is Cat?”

  “It’s an abbreviated nickname. Catherine is actually my middle name,” I correct and he stared at me.

  “What’s your first name?”

  “Blake, but no one calls me that anymore.” It was my father’s middle name, and since he passed I guess my mother found it easier to call me Catherine and forget he ever existed. To her he was a mistake, to me he was my hero, and I wished every day he was here to save me. Life would have been so much different had he been a part of my life through my adolescence.

  “Okay, Cat.” Clayton asked nothing further before pushing open the door and chuckled when my mouth fell open in surprise. “I need you to help me get all of these into Red’s room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it is going to annoy the hell out of him when he has to remove them all.”

  I would never understand frat boys.

  Chapter Seven

  Elijah

  Realizing I was alone in the backyard of my fraternity house, I began moving cautiously toward the back door. With each step I felt as if my shorts and boxers were rubbing against my skin and it almost burned. It felt almost like chafed skin; I’d felt it before, but usually after a long ass game when I sweat for hours and my uniform had begun to wear and pull at my leg hair and other nearby areas.

  It was almost miserable as I parted my legs a bit, walking bow-legged to alleviate the irritation.

  Last night was a blur, at least for the most part. I had the king of all headaches and each step I took I fought the urge to throw up. The puzzle of how I ended up in the backyard to begin with had my full attention as I slipped in through the door and began moving through the kitchen with ease.

  A shower and my bed were the only things that could fix the fucked-up state I was in. Never had I still felt this drunk the day after a party. I thought I was in the clear when I reached the bottom of the stairs, until I heard laughter filtering out from the living room. Not just chuckles but deep guttural laughter that was hard to ignore. Mixed in were muffled groans of pain, only those groans sounded so far away.

  Against my better judgement I moved away from the stairway.

  “He’s gonna kill you,” one of the guys said and I paused just outside the door.

  “Probably,” Clayton chuckled, “but it’s so worth it.”

  I didn’t need to hear anymore to know it had something to do with me. Not to mention those moans of torture were beginning to sound a little like me in a not so pleasant state.

  As I stepped into the open doorway my eyes immediately focused on the computer screen. Clayton, Brent, and Jay all hovered near the desk.

  Moving in a little closer I saw what it is they were watching and my stomach began to twist. There I was writhing in pain as Clayton ripped wax strips off me one by fucking one. With each yank I’d let out a squeal that didn’t sound like me at all. It was the deep groan that would follow that was me over and over.

  “You waxed me?”

  All three of them whipped around and Clayton’s eyes grew wide. Jay’s mouth fell open in shock and then Brent burst out laughing. “That is epic,” Brent sputtered the words through his laughter. He looked over at Clayton. “Shoe polish?” he asked as he pointed toward my face.

  “No,” Clay said while slowly shaking his head, still staring at me, “sunless tanning lotion.” Each syllable of each word was drawn out.

  “Genius,” Brent adds as he leaned in a little closer. They continued to carry on their conversation as if I wasn’t standing before them. “It’s so dark though.”

  “I got the darkest shade.”

  “Who would even want to be that dark?”

  Clayton shrugged. “Fuck if I know but I was glad they had it.”

  “Darkest shade of what?” I practically yelled the words.

  “He dyed your face twenty shades darker than the rest of your body.” Jay’s words rushed out as he slid backward, as if clearing the area. He looked seriously scared.

  “Let me get this straight.” I grabbed the collar of Clayton’s shirt and pulled him closer. “You wax my fucking junk, dyed my face, and left me passed out in the backyard.”

  Before Clayton could reply, Jay chimed in. “He also glued your ass to the chair.”

  “Glued my…” I paused as I tried to register everything that apparently took place and I couldn’t remember any of it. “What is with you assholes continuously super gluing stuff to my ass?”

  “Frankie loves when we—”

  “Don’t fucking say it,” I warned him and he stopped immediately. I’d had enough. I didn’t give him a chance to say anything more; I knew at this point I couldn’t take another word. I shoved him off and began back to the path I should have stayed on to begin with—heading up the stairway.

  The rest of the house seemed quiet. Pausing as I passed the bathroom, I took a look at my face and realized just how dark it truly was. Imagine Will Smith’s head on an albino’s body. I was a mess.

  Fully intending to Google ways to remove sunless tanning effects the minute I finished a long ass nap, I left the bathroom and continued down the hallway.

  I reached up above my door and felt for the small notch cut out of the trim that was just large enough to hold the key. When I reached out for the handle and it gave just a little, my heart felt like it lurched in my chest. Being unlocked was not good; it only meant one thing.

  Shoving open my door, I was greeted with what looked like hundreds of balloons. From floor to at least waist high, blown up balloons were everywhere. My bed was covered, my desk, hell everything had colorful balloons on it.

  In that moment I wondered what the fuck I was thinking when I foolishly agreed to give in and get drunk last night. This shit was going to take forever to pop.

  ***

  I hadn’t forgotten about the tattoo, or the mountains of balloons around my room. But the moment I closed my eyes to fall asleep, the only thing I dreamed of was Catherine. Those kisses that were shared when I was supposed to be accepting the lime instead. It was a bold move and I knew it, but the inviting look in her eyes snared me when I hovered over her lips after that first shot.

  The only thing I wanted in that moment was to feel her lips pressed to mine and I didn’t want a damn lime in the way. I just wished I could remember more of our night after that.

  Was there more after that?

  I could hear the guys all moving around outside my room, the laughter and continuous rowdy behavior that was a daily thing. The last thing I wanted was to face the smug assholes who would surely love seeing all that Clayton was able to accomplish.

  I still had no clue where my phone was.

  Climbing from my bed I slowly stepped over the balloons around my room, fearful I’d end up falling and break my fucking neck in the process. It seemed fitting as the final step in my night of the most humiliating events.

  Once I was to my desk I powered up my computer and opened the search window. Exfoliating scrub, lemon juice, baking soda, hell even Crest toothpaste were some of the recommendations to clear off this crazy brown head syndrome I had going on. The problem was all those things had to be purchased at a store and there was no way I was going out looking like this.

  I need my damn phone.

  The sound of a woman’s laughter just outside my room got my attention. It had me spinning around in my chair, watching with caution. “He was so pissed,” Clayton’s amused voice came right through my door. I was up out of my chair and moving quickly through the balloons as they scattered out to my sides.

  I yanked open the door, fully intending to tackle him when I found myself face to face with Catherine. I froze; she stepped back and her eyes grew wide just before her mouth fell open in shock and she quickly lifted her hand to cover it. Then I remembered what I looked like.

  “What happened to you?”

  Clayton stood behind her, his arms crossed over his chest and wearing a smug grin.

  “He happened.” I pointed toward Clay.

  “Is this what you dragged me up here for?” she spun around to ask Clayton. “I just came to get my car.”

  “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing this.” Clayton chuckled again when I stepped forward, fully intending to tackle his ass and beat the snot out of him.

  “Hey now, in my defense it wasn’t all me.” He uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, still using Cat as a shield from me. “Okay, so the gluing you to a chair, that was me. But this girl came to your rescue and helped you find a new set of pants after your ass was bared to the party.” He placed his hands on Catherine’s shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “By the way that shit went viral, everyone loved it.”

  I am going to fucking kill him.

  “Yet how do you repay the poor girl?” I saw the embarrassed look take over Cat’s earlier surprised one. “You go and cock slap her right in the face.”

  My stomach dropped. “I did what?”

  It was more of a question for her yet Clayton jumped right in.

  “You managed to slap her in the face with your cock, and all she was trying to do was help you cover your ass. But she got her revenge.” Now I was heavily intrigued. “She helped me gather all these balloons and fill up your room. And she did it with a smile on her face. It was like handing an alcoholic a bottle of Tequila. This girl went crazy.”

  “You had a part in the balloon event?”

  Catherine looked at me and offered a shrug. “Yeah, it was kinda fun.”

  The innocent way she said that made me laugh.

  I’d say we were even but we weren’t.

  “Oh yeah, what is it I owe you?” She looked almost hopeful.

  “I’m gonna need you to help me get this shit off my face.” She covers her mouth once again, only in an attempt to cover her laughter.

  “Ha ha, real funny.” I reached out and pulled her toward me. A loud squeal escaped her just before she stumbled forward into my arms and I shut the door behind me in Clayton’s face.

  “What are we doing?”

  “First you’re gonna help me get my face to match the rest of my body.” I guide her to my computer desk and nudge her to take a seat. “After that you and I are gonna have a balloon popping party. Then I’ve got a few other things to figure out since you enjoy tormenting others.” She arched a brow, but I clearly saw the smile tugging at her lips. “You can help me come up with a few ways to get back at Clayton.”

  She almost seemed eager to do that last item on the list as she quickly slid closer to the screen and together we attempted to come up with the best solution to remedy this sunless tanner fiasco.

  Chapter Eight

  Catherine

  “Where are you going?” I whipped around to see Morgan standing in the entryway to the living room. Xavier stood at her side.

  “Making a run to Walgreens.” I held up the two twenties Elijah had just given me. “His face is so dark.” I tried not to smile but I had never in my life seen anything like it. “At this point I think he’s written down every home remedy that is proven to remove this tanner, and some that haven’t. He’s desperate.”

  “Want company?”

  Xavier hooked her around the waist and pulled her backward, her back flush with his chest. “Why the hurry to run off?”

  “I’m not running off, I asked Catherine if I could go with her. It would be rude of me to make her go alone.”

  I was just about to tell her I was okay to go alone when she gave me the look one girl gives to another when they are in desperate need of an escape and are relying on your help.

  “It would make it easier to have a second set of eyes while trying to locate some of this stuff.”

  Once we were in the car she turned to me with a smile. “So you and Red, huh?”