Page 1

Chapter 1

Ruby

If someone had told me the worst decision of my twenty-four years would arrive wearing red lace panties, I would've laughed my ass off.

But now?

Standing outside the massive red brick mansion that housed Delta Kappa, yanking down the hem of this sequined bodycon dress to keep those useless red lace panties from showing, I had only one thought.

Ruby Caldwell, you've lost your damn mind.

"Hey, look over there!"

Voices erupted behind me—a pack of girls in graduation gowns laughed as they passed, wearing mini skirts and crop tops, bodies so slender they looked like the wind could carry them off. A blonde glanced at me, then turned to whisper to her friend. They burst into shrill laughter.

I dropped my head, instinctively covering my stomach with my arms.

Ignore them, Ruby. Tonight isn't about them.

Tonight was about Chad.

Chad Wellington IV—golden boy, blue-eyed, quarterback, frat star, heir to old Connecticut money, and... my boyfriend of exactly one year.

At least, he used to be.

Now I wasn't even sure what he was.

Chad and I had been in a cold war for two solid weeks.

The reason was simple and pathetically cliché—he'd tried to unhook my bra in my cheap apartment, and I'd pushed him away like a startled rabbit. For the millionth time. I'd never forget the look on his face when he'd stormed out that night—frustration mixed with pure, undiluted impatience.

Since then? Radio silence. No texts back. No calls answered. When we crossed paths on campus, he walked right past me like I was invisible.

I'd watched him laugh with his frat brothers in the dining hall, watched him surrounded by girls in micro-minis in party photos, watched him post selfies—always with pretty girls in the frame.

And me?

I'd cried myself sick every night in my apartment, staring at my phone waiting for his message, feeling like an ungrateful bitch.

So I'd compromised.

I clutched the black canvas bag in my hand. Inside was a photo album. Twelve pictures. In every single one, I wore red lace lingerie in various poses...

Offering myself up—my final card to save this relationship.

I took a deep breath and pushed through the heavy door.

Inside was pure chaos.

Bass-heavy music hit me like a tsunami, bodies everywhere—dancing, drinking, making out hard in corners. The air reeked of cheap weed, harsh hairspray, and bottom-shelf vodka so thick I could barely breathe.

"Hey, baby!" Some drunk guy materialized in front of me, beer sloshing everywhere. "You here alone? Want to—"

"No, thanks." I kept my head down, weaving past him into the crowd.

I pushed through the sardine-packed living room, shouldered by strangers clutching red Solo cups, scanning for that sandy-blond head.

Nothing. I couldn't find him anywhere.