Fucking Brandon. I’m disgusted with myself for even contemplating a Gamma party, and yet here I am, pulling on my best cargo pants, filling up the pockets with cans of beer, and grabbing a knit hat I made with a large wool ball on top. I’ll only wear the hat until we get there, but chicks are obsessed with it, so I’m hoping it works that way with dudes too. 

People love to squeeze the pompom.

When I go to grab Brandon from his room, the first word that pops into my head is hot, and I immediately go to push it down when I pause. If I’m attracted to dudes, I’m allowed to think that way. And, come on, Brandon is better-looking than most dudes. 

He’s wearing dark pants, a gray sweater, scarf, and coat, and the whole thing should look boring as fuck, but it makes my mouth dry. 

“Bro, you need to think this girlfriend thing through. You could literally score with anyone you wanted, looking like that.”

His stare snaps to mine, and he doesn’t immediately answer. Then slowly, a smile forms, showing off those vamp fangs, which surprisingly make him look hotter. 

“What, like you?”

And I know he’s only teasing, so it makes it easy to play along. “I’m into dudes now, remember? I can tell a guy he’s hot.”

“You going to be my gay best friend?” 

“As long as you don’t expect fashion advice.”

He drops my gaze, hazel eyes roaming over my body. I puff myself up a bit, not sure what I’m hoping to achieve because he’s one hundred percent guaranteed to hate what I’m wearing. 

“A flannel shirt?” he says on a sigh. “If you want to hook up, you need to put in some effort.”

“I’ve never had a problem before.”

“Yeah, but you’ve never been trying to hook up with dudes before.”

“There’s no way a guy cares more about what I’m wearing than chicks do.”

“Sure. Because that’s not exactly what we’re talking about right now.”

I sneer at him. “I’d like to see you fit a single can of beer in those pants.” They’re practically fucking sprayed on. “Actually, I’d like to see you even fit a credit card in there. I wouldn’t worry about needing to hook up—by the time you get those bad boys off, it’ll be February, and your dick will have fallen off from lack of circulation.”

He gapes at me. “Stop talking.”

“But it’s my best quality.”

“I promise it isn’t.” He leads the way from his room, and I fall into step with him. “Besides, there’ll be beer there. I don’t need to take my own.”

“Yeah, enjoy drinking the piss they supply. What’s the bet they’re half-strength seltzers?”

“You mean, what I’ve been trying to get you to supply for our parties?”

“Sure, you can’t break up with Jenny because of our dues, but you can push me to serve people what’s basically soda. Great plan.”

He looks like he wants to argue, so I bat my lashes at him like the innocent fucker I am.

And when Brandon laughs, I can’t help grinning. 

“There’s no way you can tell me that your beer won’t be shaken to shit by the time we get to the party.”

We leave the house and walk around the block to the next street over. It’s already dark and so goddamn cold, but it won’t take long to warm up once we’re there. 

“Some of them will be,” I say. “But that’s part of the fun. Like a lucky dip. Which ones are good to go, and which ones will start an impromptu wet T-shirt contest?”

“Don’t you ever …”

There’s something in his tone that makes me glance over. “Yeah?”

“You’re always so on. Isn’t it exhausting?”

Surprisingly, I’ve never thought of it that way. “Well … I don’t think of myself as on. I just … am.” I frown because that sounds like some kinda douchey self-help shit. “Do you think I’m too much?” It panics me that I actually care about his answer. 

“I think when you’re dancing on a table and end up landing on me, you could maybe tone it down a notch.” He flashes those teeth with a quick smile. “But, nah. Don’t change. Especially not for a party pooper like me.”

I know he’s joking. I know it was a throwaway comment, and I know I’m the one always calling him that in the first place, but I’m someone who loves people. Loves them exactly the way they are. Even the geeds, though maybe not so much the asshole Gammas we’re going to be partying with tonight. 

But loving people the way they are includes Brandon and all his uptight, planning ways. I nudge him.

“You shouldn’t change either. Especially not for a loose cannon like me.”

He laughs, a little puff of white leaving his parted lips. “Let’s see if you still think that the next time you suggest auctioning off people to have sex with.”

“It was for charity.”

“It was basically prostitution.”

“I was trying to meet my philanthropy quota,” I argue.

“Dude, you would have been the only one involved.”

“Still would have made an easy hundred bucks, surely.”

Brandon cuffs my shoulder as we reach the Gamma house and start up the stairs. “You’re selling yourself short, big guy. I bet you could have even made one hundred and one.”

I blow him a kiss as we step inside and pay our entry.