Okay. I can do this. I’d be taking one for the team, right? Say what you will about me, but I’ve always been a team player. Even when my heart is not in it, I give it my all. I always have. And this time, losing isn’t an option, since the repercussions of me failing The Society’s first assignment might be the end of us.
If sleeping with Stone Bennett is how I get them off my back, then that’s what I’ll have to do.
I mean, how hard can it be to seduce the devil’s spawn anyway?
Chapter 4
Stone
Can this night get any shittier?
First, Big Jim tells me I’ll have to lock up tonight since Janet called in sick, turning my six-hour shift into a nine-hour one, which will definitely show tomorrow morning on my first day back at school. There won’t be enough concealer under the sun to mask the bags under my eyes. And secondly, Janet bailing couldn’t have happened on a worse night. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear the bitch did it on purpose. Anytime my boss announces there will be a contest to win a few bucks, the desperate and needy of Ashville crawl out of the woodwork for a few Benjamins, while the vultures flood our doors, thirsty to watch the deplorable show go down.
Tonight’s poor excuse for a contest is an old favorite of my employer’s, as well as every last pervert within a twenty-mile radius. The wet T-shirt night at Big Jim’s Bar is not like the ones broadcasted on TV or spring break music videos. Instead of girls gone wild, it’s more like moms without shame.
A prime example of this is Wanda and her old man doing it doggy style for everyone’s eyes to behold, while her seven-year-old kid is probably sound asleep at her grandma’s place again. Poor kid should be thankful her folks didn’t bring her in tow this time. Watching her parents get wasted and do live porno would scar her for life. But if I’m being real, she’s probably seen worse.
Most of the kids who grow up around here are used to shit like this anyway. I sure as hell saw my share of fucked-up things growing up. I really wish I could say this sort of crap was a one-off here at the bar, but it’s not. Shit like this happens most nights. I guess you just become immune to the filth after a while.
It’s also a side effect of living on this end of town. We expect the grime and the dirt. It’s the shiny and new that raises our hackles. Case in point—Finn Walker and Easton Price sitting at a table casing the joint like they are planning some sort of heist. It’s oddly funny considering Easton’s stepdaddy owns one of the world’s most prestigious banks there is. He could probably buy this bar with his lunch money, so why Big Jim’s would suddenly grab his fancy is beyond me.
However, Easton doesn’t get on my nerves as much as the friend frowning at his side. Easton wasn’t born into money like Finn was. His momma just managed to marry into it. Rumor has it that before Price put a ring on Easton’s momma’s finger, she was turning down beds and cleaning toilets at some swanky hotel, living in a one-room, rat-infested apartment up North with her kid. At least Easton knows what it’s like to live in squalor.
Finn Walker, however, wouldn’t know the first thing about sacrifice, let alone worrying about where his next meal is coming from. I mean, look at him! Not only is he drop-dead gorgeous, with his wavy blond locks and piercing blue eyes, but he’s as big as a tank. That boy hasn’t missed a meal in his whole life. Sure, it’s probably steel muscle from all the workouts he has to do to keep in shape for football, but damn! He puts most of the guys sitting here to shame.
Worst thing is, he’s a cocky asshole, and he knows it. Just by the way he gloated about his size, he’s proud of it too, making him as vain and shallow as I suspected him of being. He’s just like any other jock with a pea-sized brain that thinks muscles will get him far in life. I can’t help but be a little bit resentful of guys like him because, in Finn’s case, that’s all he really needs to make it in this world.
While I bust my ass and study like crazy, trying to get out of the Southside, Finn Walker only needs to get buff in a private gym and take a few blows to the head to have his future guaranteed. And it’s not like he even needs the hassle, either. Both his parents come from a long line of southern aristocracy. Christ, I’m sure you can probably trace his ancestors as far back as the Mayflower. Their wealth is unimaginable, so pretty boy Finn Walker slumming it in my part of town has my spidey sense tingling. Guys like him don’t come down here without a good reason.
Just what the hell are those two up to?
I place five beers on a tray, ready to head back and give these losers their booze, leaving the two college boys for last. When I finally get to their table, Finn’s scowl is still ingrained on his face. Even though he’s trying to mask it as indifference, his ego is obviously wounded by my harmless teasing. I’d laugh if I didn’t think it was so pathetic a man of his size being unable to take a little criticism.
“I think we started off on the wrong foot,” his smooth-talking friend begins, deepening his learned southern twang like he’s one of us.
“Did we, now?” I cock my hip to the side, wondering what fine line Easton Price is going to spin.
If he thinks he’ll get anything out of me, he’s dead wrong. The ‘rebel without a cause’ persona Easton Price lives by doesn’t get my motor running in the least. His dark attitude is all for show and less than original. I know bad guys. I was raised by one, so Easton is shit out of luck if he thinks he can sweet-talk me into buying whatever he’s selling.
His blue-eyed friend would stand a better chance, even though everything the elitist jock represents annoys the fuck out of me. With all his faults, Finn might have a few traits that I could see myself using. Especially with school starting, there’s a little itch he could certainly help me scratch. I’d gladly climb up that massive tree and find out if all of him is as huge as he likes to advertise. Yep. A hate-fuck would definitely hold me out for the semester. But with my luck, Finn is likely just as overrated as all the other Northside pricks. All talk and no game.
“You’re Stone, right? Finn and I were just talking about how we’ve seen you around campus before,” Easton continues, feeding me a bullshit lie.
Like hell, they have.
Guys like them don’t pay attention to anything or anyone but their own reflection. I’d never be on their radar, so Easton suddenly knowing my name is all the warning I need to know they are definitely up to no good. I’m not sure what their intentions are, but I certainly need to make it clear I want no part of it. I have better things to do than waste my time with two entitled Northsiders looking to cause trouble on my side of town.
Screw that and screw them.
“And?” I quip back, unamused, hoping my resting bitch face is enough to dampen whatever game they’ve got going.
“And my friend here is trying to be polite. How about you cut him some slack, huh?” Finn counters, the annoyed scowl on his brow deepening by the second.
“Oh, that’s so cute, you sticking up for your boyfriend. Is that why you boys came here? To hide your love affair away from your mammas and pappas? Chin up boys. It’s the twenty-first century. No one gives a rat’s ass if you like cock or not. Own that shit. I do,” I reply sarcastically, giving them a little wink and blowing a kiss to Finn to annoy him further.