His Royal Majesty

SKYLAR

The loud thump of a chart topping song vibrates through the crowded living area. The air is thick with sweat from bodies grinding to the electropop beat.

I feel like puking. I absolutely hate frat parties. It makes me cringe when I get hit on by horny assholes in varsity jackets who think they’re gods. My roommate April dragged me here.

“Sky, college isn’t supposed to feel like prison,” she had said earlier tonight, catching me buried in my books like always.

“I know, but I have midterms coming up,” I protested weakly.

“Exactly why you need a break. Come on, just one party. You’re gonna burn out at this rate.”

“I’m fine, April. Really.”

“No, you’re not. When was the last time you even left the dorm for something fun?” She planted her hands on her hips, blocking my textbook with her shadow.

I sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let this go. “Yesterday?”

“The library doesn’t count, Sky. I’m talking about actual fun. Dancing, drinking, meeting people.”

“Meeting drunk people who will forget my name in five minutes sounds absolutely thrilling,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Just trust me on this one. One party. If you hate it, I will never ask again.”

I should have listened to my instincts, which told me exactly how bad this would be.

But no, I let April force me into the sluttiest outfit she owns, a peach backless dress with a plunging neckline. How is this even a dress? I think, tugging the hem down as I step out of April’s car.

“Stop freaking out. You look like a baddie. Seriously, you look sexy,” April says, dressed in a rhinestone cowl neck halter crop top and matching skirt.

“I look like a hooker,” I whisper, panicking.

“Oh my God, you don’t. This is what I have been saying, you need the whole college experience. This is what most girls wear to parties,” April replies, checking her lipstick in the rearview mirror.

“Can I at least borrow your jacket?”

“Absolutely not. You will hide in it all night.”

I hear giggling and turn to see two tipsy blondes in skimpy dresses struggling to walk a straight line toward a pink Porsche.

“See?” April points before flashing me a smug smile. “You actually look conservative compared to them.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring,” I mutter, smoothing down the dress one more time.

“Look, if you’re really that uncomfortable, we can leave right now. No judgment.” April’s voice softens, and I can tell she means it.

As a soon to be cum laude, I’m used to stressful situations. I can handle this. Taking a deep breath, I square my shoulders. “No, I said I would try. Let’s just get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit. But maybe try to look a little enthusiastic?”

“That will be impossible, and I’m leaving this hellhole by eleven.”

“Midnight,” April counters.

“Eleven thirty.”

“Deal.” She grabs my hand and practically drags me toward the house. “And you need to at least have a real conversation with three people, I'm not talking of a polite ‘excuse me’ when you push past them.”

“Fine, three people. But I’m counting you as one of them.”

“That absolutely doesn’t count and you know it,” she laughs, squeezing my hand.

Within seven minutes of being inside, April ditches me after forcing a cocktail into my hand and runs off to meet Chris, her new boyfriend, who is by the pool playing poker with his friends.

“April, wait.” I call out, but she is already gone, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder.

“I will find you later!” she yells over the music.

“So much for moral support,” I mutter under my breath. Great. Just fcking great.

I wander into the kitchen, packed with girls in barely there outfits and guys who look like they have never heard the word consent, when a six foot something guy with a purple undercut, holding a plastic cup, stumbles into me.

“Hey, watch it, asshole.” I snap angrily as my funky smelling cocktail, laced with who knows what, spills on the floor. The drunk idiot keeps stumbling, not even acknowledging he just body checked me.

“Yo, dude, you good?” a guy asks him.

Purple hair waves him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good, bro,” he slurs before disappearing into the crowd.

Rubbing my arm, which is already turning red from the impact, I start after the piece of sht, ready to tell him off until I see him. Liam Harrington.

The picture of everything I can’t stand loud, cocky, and used to getting his way. A rich kid who is never had to work hard for anything. I meet his gaze, refusing to look away first.

Mr. Heartthrob watches me like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to figure out. His stare is almost predatory and it makes me turn away, scanning the crowd for the purple haired fool.

“What’s your deal?” His deep, husky voice sends goosebumps over my skin, the same voice that’s probably whispered sweet nonsense to a hundred girls.

Turning around, I meet his gaze. Up close, he is even more ridiculous sharp jawline, sea green eyes, and a dangerous smile.

“No deal,” I say evenly.

He steps closer, and I catch a whiff of his expensive cologne mixed with beer. “Why aren’t you trying to impress me?”

“I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t know you would be here,” I reply, crossing my arms.

“The name i Liam,” he says through gritted teeth before flashing another smirk. “So, you’re saying nobody told you the king would be at this party?”

“Did you seriously just call yourself the king?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s what everyone calls me,” he says with a shrug, taking a sip from his cup.

“How modest of you.” I take a deep breath. “Yes, nobody informed me his royal majesty would be here,” I mutter, trying to quicken this conversation.

“Well, lucky you, hottie, because you have got my attention,” he says, his grin pure arrogance.

A part of me still can’t believe that the Liam Harrington is flirting with me, assuming I’m just another thirsty girl desperate for his attention. Right now, I would give anything to be in bed reviewing the paper I have got due at eight in the morning.

“I’m sure that cheesy line has worked before. But as hard as it must be for you to believe, you’re not my type,” I say, walking off toward April, who is already tweaking by the poolside.