Murphy watched me from her bedroom window. With a pair of binoculars.

The roar of music thumped from inside as I climbed the porch steps, rapped on the door, and waited. Moments later, the door opened, and the smell of beer and something else I cared not try and identify wafted out. Jason Willis stood there, elbow propping his body against the doorframe, and the smile he poured over me made me inwardly cringe. A big cow lick made his hair flip up at the part.

“Well now, Saint Harper,” he crooned. “What do we owe this pleasure?”

I pasted on a wide, fake smile. “Hi, Jason. Can I come in?”

Josh Collins’ head appeared over Jason’s. He wore a Silverbacks baseball cap, turned around backwards. “Hell yeah, hot neighbor babe like you can come right on in.” He held the door open. “Move your ass over, Jase.” He grinned at me. “Welcome to the Kappa Kingdom. Want a brew?”

“Uh, no thank you.” As I entered the dimly lit common room, scents and bodies and the feeling of being trapped singed my insides; I ignored it. Pushed it aside. In the living area, I turned around and faced Josh. He was there, smiling down at me. Not a bad looking guy. Just…well, I hoped Murphy could do a reformation job on him.

“So what do you want, gorgeous? We already signed up for the Turkey Run,” he said, then smiled. His eyes gleamed as he dipped his head toward me. “We don’t bake, darlin’, so the bake sale is off.”

Several of the guys laughed. One snorted.

“I’m actually here to see your new friend,” I stated. “Kane McCarthy.”

The expression on Josh’s face shifted. Even more predatory, if possible. “Is that so?”

I nodded. “It is.”

Josh stared at me a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. “Well, damn, girl.” He inclined his head toward the stairs. “Follow me.”

I did, and at the top of the stairs we turned right. Two doors down, Josh pushed open the door. The room contained no less than a half-dozen Kappas, and a half-dozen others I didn’t recognize. In the center, at a desk, sat Kane. When we entered, he looked up. Those fathomless eyes lit on mine, and surprise widened them. He relaxed, though, and leaned back in the chair. Those expresso brown pools slowly inspected me, from the tips of my boots to the top of my head. Then, they settled on my eyes.

“You here to place a bet?” he asked in that smoky voice.

Dredging up as much confidence and courage as I could find, I slipped into an easy smile that surprised even me. I made sure my gaze didn’t falter. “I am,” I said slyly.

The guys all joked; whistled, wailed, and all the other immature things guys do to make fun of a situation. I stood straight, though, and didn’t budge. I kept my gaze locked onto Kane’s. And he kept his on mine, as well.

Then he surprised me. He rose and walked directly to me, grasped me by the elbow, and looked down at me. “Come on,” he said in that quiet, controlled smoky voice that matched his eyes.

His fingers heated my skin as we walked, leaving a room full of laughing hyena Kappas behind. Confusion made me stutter. Made me almost forget he had ahold of me. I flinched. He didn’t let go.

“W—what are you doing?” I demanded, trying to tamp down my rising panic. Wanting to keep up the farce of me wanting to place a bet. “Did you not hear me?”

He didn’t look at me as he led me down the steps. “I heard you.”

“Let me go,” I urged. “Now, please.”

He didn’t, and as we passed Josh, he simply grinned and shrugged. “Nice try, Delta.” He winked, and I wanted to kick him. “Save me some cookies, will ya? And tell Murph I said hi!”

Laughter trailed us as Kane hurried me outside, and it was only after we’d descended the steps that he turned me loose. I rounded on him, but at the same time backed up, keeping my distance. “How…dare you.” I began to shake; I willed it to stop. It didn’t. So I paced to hide it.

Kane braced his legs against the concrete, crossed his arms over his chest, and studied me. Silently. Thoroughly. Only his eyes spoke, a slight simmering flash noticeable only beneath the glow of the Kappas’ yard light.

“What are you looking at?” I demanded.

He stared for a few more painful moments. “I just don’t know yet.”

I stiffened. “What does that mean?”

He shoved his hand through his already-messy hair. “I can’t read you.” He cocked his head, pushed his hands into his pockets, and stepped toward me. I stepped back. He acted as if he didn’t notice the movement. “You look like a typical high society snob.” His eyes moved over me, and I held my breath. “Fancy clothes. Expensive car.” He rubbed his chin. “You have that air about you, like you’re better than anyone.” Before I could breathe, he was there, in front of me, not touching me, but he might as well have been. His body heat enveloped me, as if invisible hands pulled us together. “I think you’re bluffing.” Then he did touch me; his knuckle caught my chin, lifting my gaze to his, and I was speechless. Breathless, as his wise eyes watched me. “If I know anything, Harper Belle, it’s a bluff.”

I could barely draw in a breath; it almost came out as a gasp. I felt my eyes tearing up, and as stupid as it was, I couldn’t stop it. My skin broke out into tingles—exactly the feeling I’d had in the past before a panic attack. The feeling I’d get if trapped in a darkened place. I swallowed hard, pushed his hand from my chin, and stepped back. Distance helped, but I still breathed hard. I couldn’t hide it, either. “You…you don’t know me at all. I am better.”