The Frat Boy (Nashville Neighborhood #4) Read Online Nikki Sloane

Categories Genre: College, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Nashville Neighborhood Series by Nikki Sloane
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 114337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
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No one believed you last time either.

I couldn’t focus on that. It was hard to think about anything except how muddy I was. I could really use a shower—

Shit.

All of us would want one when we got back to the house, which meant the hot water would likely run out long before I got my chance. Without that prize money . . . how many cold showers were in my future?

The injustice of it all brought fresh outrage into my veins. I jammed my foot into the shoe, not caring how gross it was, and glared up at Colin while I tied my shoelaces. “This isn’t fair. You cheated.”

His face contorted, and suddenly he was no longer the stereotypically hot frat boy—he became the asshole kind. “I hear cheating’s a recurring theme for you. At least, that’s what Jack said.”

Something inside me broke.

I sucked in a sharp breath, and then I was no longer in control of my body. It meant I was powerless to stop my hands as they reached out and clenched fistfuls of the mud in front of me. I was merely a passenger as it was scooped up and compacted into a loose ball.

This was done so it would be easier to throw. More accurate at hitting my intended target.

Maybe he sensed it coming, but disbelief had him locked into a statue, because Colin didn’t move an inch as I hurled the mud at him. My target had been center-mass, and even though the ball had broken up a little as it traveled through the air, my aim was spot-on.

Mud splattered across his chest, and he stumbled back a half-step—not because of the force I’d used, but merely surprise.

As I stared at his wide eyes, I felt mine mirror his.

Oh, my God. What the fuck had I just done?

The crowd around us had gone silent, frozen in place. No one moved, other than the wind ruffling some people’s clothes or hair. I glanced down at my dirty hands and couldn’t believe what I was looking at.

I’d never lost my temper like that.

I opened my mouth to apologize, but I didn’t get the chance. Colin snapped back to life, bent down, and loaded ammunition into his hands. There were flames in his eyes as he stood and prepared to return fire.

Once again, my body took control from my mind. It was what got me to dart out of the way just as he slung a huge glob my direction.

While I had avoided it, whoever had been standing behind me hadn’t, judging by the girl’s horrified gasp. I turned to see his victim, who had so much mud covering her face, it took me a moment to realize he’d hit Jenn.

She stood awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do, before clawing the mud away from her eyes and slinging it to the ground.

“Oh, my God,” I cried. “You hit her in the face!”

He’d been aiming for yours, a voice in my head whispered.

Colin looked stricken. Perhaps he wanted to apologize or say he hadn’t meant to hit her, but the damage was done.

The outrage flaring inside me was shared by all my sisters, and some of them were quicker to act than I was. The first volley of mud came from the Lambdas, striking not just Colin, but several of the Sigs in the vicinity. And with that, one of them let out a battle cry, and mud was hurled our direction.

It vaguely reminded me of that scene from the movie 300 where so many arrows were fired, it darkened the sky. Mud rained down, splattering everywhere. It was in my hair. In my eyes. And worst of all, in my mouth.

I had fired the first shot, but once Colin retaliated, we were engaged in all-out war. The field was carnage, and no one was safe, not even the other houses who’d come to watch. The bullhorn guy tried to duck out of the way, only to get pelted across the back.

It was stunning how quickly we all descended into chaos.

People ran, some using others as human shields to hide behind as they gathered mud to sling. It was the great equalizer, painting everyone brown and obscuring which house they were from. There was friendly fire, and anarchy reigned.

I squatted and shoveled as much mud as possible into my filthy hands, readying to unleash hell on the next Sig I could identify.

Was it dumb luck that the first one I recognized was Jack?

He was twenty feet away from me, but somehow sensed the target on him, because he turned in place and stared at me. His gaze dropped to my loaded hands, and then snapped back to me with worry flooding his expression.

This is your chance. Get him.

I reared back, readying to throw, but my strength faltered. As much as I hated what he’d done . . . it was surprisingly hard to hate him, and so I hesitated. I was stuck like that, locked in place by indecision. On one hand, he was a Sig and deserved it. But on the other, he’d been my first love. It was harder to sling mud at someone I’d had such a strong connection with, and I—


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