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Not until he’s on his knees, begging me to.

And when he finally breaks, he’s going to love every last fucking trial I put him through.

And then he’ll beg me for more.

Chapter Two

Two Weeks Later

Mason

The wily smile on Cole’s face only grows the longer I sit and watch him at the table across from mine in the dining hall of our frat house. If I had to guess, whoever he’s texting probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with him. I say that because it’s the same smile he gives me every time he’s being a bastard.

I don’t understand him. He’s actually really fucking smart, and he seems like a decent guy from the conversations I’ve overheard between him and some of our other frat brothers. I don’t know what I did to be lucky enough to earn his ire.

“Are you and Avery a thing yet, or what?” Gage reaches over his plate to grab the salt. Sprinkling some on his eggs, he turns to me and awaits my answer.

“Nah, man,” I respond between bites of bagel as I shake my head. “Not for lack of trying, though. I mean, I understand, but it sucks. I fucking want her so bad.”

Gage laughs at that, and I feel every bit the pathetic fucking simp that I sound like.

“She doesn’t want to be tied down to anyone while she’s in college, and I can appreciate that fact, but I don’t like the thought of some other fucking douchebag touching what’s mine.”

Cole’s scoff pulls my eyes back to him. His stare is locked on me now, not even trying to pretend like he isn’t listening to our conversation. Rolling his eyes, he breaks the connection with me and focuses on his cup of coffee. I let my gaze linger on him a moment longer, just enough for his heated stare to catch mine again, pull me in, and make me think twice about who it is I actually want more—Avery… Or him.

Fuck.

I still haven’t been able to shake the way he made me feel on move-in day. In fact, I may have pictured the two of us wrestling more than once since then. I think about him almost as much as I think about Avery. But my daydreams regarding each of them are different. I yearn to be in a relationship with Avery because she’s smart, she makes me laugh, and she’s fucking gorgeous. And I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about her. From the moment her laugh floated into my ears and my eyes locked on her, I knew she would be mine. She had to be. I need her more than I need my next breath. Whereas with Cole, I don’t fantasize about anything long term, and there’s nothing romantic about what I feel when I think about him.

Just pure, carnal lust.

Why the fuck does he have to affect me so much? I should hate him simply because of his behavior toward both me and Avery. I was raised to show respect toward women and speak out against those who don’t. When I found out he’d asked Avery out in the library, I was amused—I knew he only did it to fuck with me. But after she rejected him and he knocked her books over, I’d have expected to be angrier at him for disrespecting her. For assaulting her, if we want to get technical.

Don’t get me wrong, I was pissed and worried he’d hurt her. But, again, knowing he did it to get my attention left me experiencing… conflicting emotions.

As my cock hardens—still unsure which one of them is causing it—I shovel the last bite of my bagel into my mouth before saying goodbye to Gage and leaving for my first class of the day.

A couple minutes into my walk, I hear a deep, familiar voice calling my name. Taking a calming breath, I turn and face Cole.

“What the fuck do you want?” Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him as he closes the distance between us. My attitude toward him is partially warranted because he is who he is, but it’s also a defense I’ve been trying to keep up between us to stave off his efforts. So far it seems to mostly be working.

“Testy, testy… Who pissed in your Cheerios this morning, Haywood?” The same devious smile I saw on his face earlier is back as I turn away from him and continue walking. “I just thought you’d like to see what Avery sent me this morning.”

I stop on a dime and face him once more. He’s holding his phone out so I can see what’s on the screen.

It’s a picture of Avery, topless, lying down on a bed.

What the fuck?

I grab the phone out of his hand and look at the image a little more closely. “How the fuck did you get this, because I sure as shit know she didn’t just send it to you.”

I’m begging for that fact to be true. As far as I know, she can’t stand him. But what if he got under her skin like he’s getting under mine?

I hate admitting that.

He shrugs smugly before ripping his phone out of my hand, and I snap. Gripping his shirt in my fist, I pull him toward me until our noses are practically touching.

“Where the fuck did you get it?” Narrowing my eyes, I grind my question out through gritted teeth.