Grey had first laid eyes on Delilah two years ago in the middle of the university quad during freshman orientation. One single, charged look across the sunlit grass had been enough to hook him. Since that moment, he had lost count of how many times he had buried himself deep inside her tight cunt, chasing the vicious and addictive heat she radiated.

She was the undisputed queen of Olympus, with her sleek black hair, jewel-green eyes that could cut glass, sun-kissed tanned skin, and a cruelty so sharp it somehow only made her more intoxicating. But their relationship had always been a destructive storm.

They had broken up again just three days ago.

This time Grey had actually meant it when he said he was done with the endless cycles. Yet somehow Delilah had sweet-talked her way back into his life, as she always did. He had let her, because that bitch was simply that hot.

Tonight, though, something felt different. He was colder. He still wanted her, but he was no longer willing to keep swallowing her bullshit.

The frat party was loud and chaotic, bass rattling the walls, bodies packed tight under dim lights. He had only attended because Klaus invited him like a whiney little prick after Kat acted like a cunt to him again. Costume frat parties weren't exactly his thing.

Grey stood near the kitchen island in his usual all-black outfit, no costume. He never bothered with that shit. A half-empty beer bottle hung loosely from his fingers as he leaned against the counter, his eyes scanning the room with detached calm.

Delilah, of course, had shown up in a skimpy Playboy bunny costume, looking expensive and mean.

She had been glued to his side for the last twenty minutes, pressing her body against his arm, tracing her nails lightly over the tattoos on his forearm, using that sweet, sugary voice she reserved only for when she wanted something.

“Baby, come on!” She purred, leaning in so her lips brushed his ear. “Ugh, you’ve been acting so cold all night. I said I was sorry. Don’t you miss me already?”

Grey took a slow sip of his beer. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean in either. “I told you I’m not doing this tonight, Delilah.”

She let out a dramatic little huff, her jewel-green eyes flashing with annoyance. She hated when he didn’t immediately fold. Hated it even more when she could feel him slipping through her fingers. He was her fucking prize.

“You’re being such an asshole about this.“ She snapped, her spoiled tone cutting through the music. She stepped closer anyway, pressing her tits against his arm and running her hand down his stomach. “Just come upstairs with me. We can fix this right now. You know you want to.” He finally looked down at her. He did. He wanted to. “Stop pushing.”

Delilah’s expression twisted. For a second her mask slipped, revealing the ugly entitlement underneath. She pulled back sharply, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Fine. Fuck this. I’m going to get another fucking drink.” She spat, her voice dripping with venom. “I'll be upstairs. Naked and waiting for you.” She flipped her hair and stormed off into the crowd, her bunny pompom tail bouncing angrily behind her.

Grey watched her disappear without moving a muscle. He knew exactly what she was doing, the classic Delilah move: storm off dramatically so he would chase after her like a desperate dog.

He stayed where he was, slowly drinking his beer. Across the room, near the corner of the living room, a group was playing spin the bottle, the version that usually ended in seven minutes in heaven.

Childish.

Grey had noticed it earlier but paid little attention. He glanced over occasionally, more out of boredom than interest. Valeria had apparently been forced into the game at some point. Grey had seen Delilah zero in on him earlier, throwing some particularly vicious comments his way before shifting her focus back to trying to manipulate Grey. Typical.

Somewhere between Delilah vanishing and the game getting more crowded, Grace Evans, Delilah’s ex-best friend, suddenly appeared beside him with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Hey, Lansdowne. You look bored as hell.” She said. “I was thinking about daring you to play. Seven minutes in heaven. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Grey looked down at her, one brow slightly raised. “Not interested.”

Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Don’t be lame, everyone’s playing after all. Just one round. What, are you scared?” She provoked.

He let out a low, irritated breath. The combination of Delilah’s bullshit and the loud party was starting to grate on him. Yet, he had nothing to lose tonight, and a cheap distraction actually sounded better than ending up folding for the queen bee.

“Fine. I’m in.” He grunted, then added: “For one round.”

Grace’s grin widened as she practically dragged him toward the circle. The group whooped and laughed as he was shoved into the game. Someone spun the bottle and it whirled fast, wobbling across the floor before gradually slowing. Until it finally stopped.

And pointed directly at Valeria . And him. Grey’s eyes stared at the bottle for a long second in synchrony with the beat of heavy silence that fell over the group. Then, he lifted his cool green eyes to Valeria . Grace clapped her hands. “Seven minutes, guys! Closet’s free.” Again, that same mischievous smile of her.

Grey stayed put.

He could feel all the eyes on him, except his eyes. A part of him was fucking impatient, another was fucking tired of the party and the game already.

But another one, the one irritated and reckless, fueled by Delilah’s little tantrum, was what made him exhale slowly through his nose and stand up to his full height, towering over most of the circle.

Without a word, he walked toward the small closet at the side of the room. At the door, he paused for half a second, one of his tattooed hands resting on the frame, then he glanced at Valeria with slightly narrowed and indifferent eyes.

“You coming or what?” Grey grunted. He stepped inside first. The space was tight and dimly lit. Grey pulled the door shut behind Valeria the moment the two of them shared the space.

When the lock clicked, the silence dropped like a blade. Grey leaned back, crossing his inked arms over his chest. The silver chain with the black cross rested against his collarbone as he studied Valeria in the low light, his cool green eyes narrowing just a fraction when he felt the pair of eyes on him.

“What?” He stared at him. “The fuck are you looking at?”