Corrupt Me

Chapter 23

I would love to say the sight of Tristan affected not a single part of me. Lies. Lies. Lies. He wore a plain black hoodie with jeans and white sneakers. Nothing flashy, and yet he wore it so well. Why couldn't he look like crap? Just one damn day? He had to be part supernatural. Nobody had the right to look this good without fucking trying unless they'd been injected with vampire DNA. And Tristan could definitely pass as one of the Night's children. It took me longer than I'd admit to catch my breath. "What are you doing here?" I asked, unable to contain my surprise at seeing him.

Tristan's eyes narrowed, moving away from Brody and turning those ice chips on me. "You need a new phone."

He held it out for me, and I dragged my gaze from his chiseled face. The screen was shattered to smithereens.

Fuck me.

I took the useless device, realizing my position, stuck in the middle of Brody and Tristan. Biting back my frustration, I felt bad for Brody. He didn't ask to constantly be face with one Malone after the other. I wouldn't blame him if he never spoke to me again. It would probably be wise if he didn't. Exhaling, I clutched the phone between my fingers. "It's fine. Whatever. I'll take care of it later. What do you want?" I asked my neighbor.

Tristan's focus shifted to Brody, and a chill tiptoed down my spine at the hostility surfacing on his features. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there's no chance. We're sleeping together," he told Brody without batting an eye.

My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe his open rudeness. Then again, I could. "Tristan!" I shrieked. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I spun to Brody, a mortified apologetic expression on my face. "I'm sorry. I wish I could say I didn't know him."

"Everyone knows Malone." The way Brody said it he made it sound like being known around campus was a bad thing. Or perhaps my being associated with Tristan left a sour taste in his mouth. Tristan had a reputation. This wasn't news to me.

Tristan's dark brow arched at Brody over my head. "Then we understand each other."

A look passed between them, and I didn't particularly like being wedged between them.

Understood what?

I felt like I'd been plunged into a pool of dark cluelessness.

"Everly, are you okay?" Brody asked, lowering his tone, not that it helped. Tristan heard him regardless.

I didn't see it as much as I felt Tristan's condescending smirk spread on his lips.

"I'm fine," I insisted. "Unfortunately, this asshole is my neighbor. I've known him my whole life." It just occurred to me that if Brody knew Tristan, he probably knew Preston. And Tristan, like the jackass he was, divulged my dirty secret by revealing I'd slept with my ex-boyfriend's brother.

Color bloomed in my cheeks.

Damn him.

When Tristan and I didn't have an audience, I would unleash thirteen different forms of hell on him for embarrassing me.

"You heard it out of her mouth. She's good, bro," Tristan added in a mocking frat boy voice. Nothing about Tristan gave the impression of fraternity. It would have been laughable if my blood wasn't boiling.

Brody took a step closer to me, the heat from his body pressing into my side. "I'm not sure she is."

Tristan's turbulent ocean eyes turned into a stormy night. "It's cute you're concerned."

Brody bristled at my side. I had to intervene before shit went sideways, and the only way I could see to prevent testosterone from winning over commonsense was to remove one of them from the situation.