Avoiding Temptation Read online

  Avoiding Temptation

  A Bro Code Novel

  by Rachel Van Dyken

  Copyright © 2019 RACHEL VAN DYKEN

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  AVOIDING TEMPTATION

  Copyright © 2019 RACHEL VAN DYKEN

  ISBN: 978-1-946061-38-6

  Cover Art by Jena Brignola

  Editing by Kay Springsteen Tate & Jill Sava

  Formatting by Jill Sava, Love Affair With Fiction

  Table of Contents

  Front Matter

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Epilogue

  Want More Pleasure Ponies?

  Want More Wingmen Inc?

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Also By Rachel Van Dyken

  Readers, this entire spin off series is for you!

  I hope Slater’s story makes you laugh and fall in love all over again…

  Prologue

  Slater

  Senior Year High School

  I gripped my backpack and stared in the mirror like I couldn’t recognize the guy staring back at me. I’d grown at least three more inches, had nearly killed my body in order to gain some muscle, going as far as to carry fucking hamburger meat in my pocket so I was constantly eating protein, and wonder of all wonders, I discovered Proactiv.

  Because I was officially done being the punching bag.

  Crater Face Slater.

  That’s what they called me in hushed whispers last year as I went around to get my yearbook signed as if I couldn’t hear every disgusting thing they said about my skin and my scrawny body.

  They didn’t know that I went home that night and grabbed a bottle of pills, and stared at them until my mom broke down the bathroom door in tears and pulled me into her arms.

  They didn’t know the money we spent on therapy in order to get past the whole negative image I had of myself—the one that my peers put there.

  I hated them.

  And then I decided that my hate only hurt me.

  If I was going to change, it needed to be from the inside out.

  I was already All-state track, but I needed a change. So, I started studying meditation, then yoga, and then moved into weightlifting for stress, and well, things progressively got better.

  I decided to do internet school for the first two quarters, thinking I didn’t want to return to normal school, and then my mom said something that really impacted me.

  She said if I never faced my giants, I never really beat them.

  In my heart, I did.

  But I needed to prove to myself that I was done.

  So, I re-enrolled, grabbed my old blue backpack, shoved in my registration forms for the principal, put on a pair of skinny jeans, a Henley, combat boots, and a black beanie. My caramel-colored hair was long past my ears and dyed with different colors to give it more depth.

  One thing that my journey taught me?

  Skincare is your god.

  And that I had a weird obsession with product.

  Sue me.

  I took another deep breath as the secretary processed my papers. She kept giving me a wide smile and then flushed when I smiled back with my perfectly straight white teeth and two small dimples.

  I knew I was winning when the new Vice Principal walked into the office, choked on her coffee, and then gave me an embarrassed wave before hurrying off and shutting her office door.

  The bell rang.

  “Here you go, Slater.” Secretary Nancy had always been kind to me. “I hope you have a very good year.”

  I grinned. “Oh, I will.”

  “Stay out of trouble.”

  I laughed. “No fucking promises.”

  The best part?

  She laughed right along with me.

  No detention.

  I was going to own the school.

  In three.

  Two.

  One.

  Whispers.

  And then pointing.

  I was used to it now.

  Now it was positive.

  Not negative.

  I walked right up to the biggest bully of them all, Howard Manning, captain of the basketball team, “You still dating Deidre?”

  “Uh,” He looked confused. “Um, yeah, who are you?”

  Deidre walked right by us.

  I grabbed her by the elbow, spun her into my arms, and pressed a searing kiss to her mouth, then pulled away and winked at him. “Not anymore.”

  “That was so hot,” Deidre said. “I mean, you’re so hot.”

  “Deidre!” Howard clenched his fists.

  “Lunch?” I grabbed her hand.

  “Yes.” She looked ready to hump my leg, the leg that was easily bigger than Howard’s, and because I had zero fucks to give, I called over my shoulder. “Bro, stop skipping leg day, it shows.”

  His friends burst into laughter around him.

  And that was how I learned to conquer any foe.

  And maybe that’s what blinded me in the first place. Made me forget about my little sister, about her needs, about her struggles. Maybe I would have seen the signs had I been more focused on her instead of me.

  That day in high school defined me.

  And in the end.

  It killed her.

  Chapter One

  Slater

  “If I have to go to one more spring break party, I’m going to shit a brick,” I muttered under my breath while Finn slapped me on the back as if to say you got this.

  I so did not have this.

  “I think I’m getting old?”

  “Is that a question?” Finn grinned over the red Solo cup he held in his hand. As Wingmen Inc’s two remaining guys on campus, we had certain responsibilities.

  And since our client list was bursting at the seams with post-holiday breakups, I was exhausted.

  Plus, we were two men down. Both Knox and Leo were blissfully in love and working downtown while leaving Finn and me to scramble.

  Thankfully, all of our new recruits were getting trained by Wingmen Inc Corporate, which left just Finn and me to help every girl, guy, grandma, and plant feel good about themselves despite what their significant others did to mess them up.

  “Statement,” I finally answered, cracking my neck and taking a good look around at all of my peers, red Solo cups in hand, downing alcohol like water while music pounded through the shitty sound system. “How long do we have to stay?”

  The living room was filled to the brim with college students, all of them looking like they’d rather party than finish off the school year. There were more crop tops in that room than at an H&M, and my head was spinning with all the smiles from single girls getting shot our way.

  We were sitting ducks.

  Finn checked his new Rolex. “Few more minutes
, I’m supposed to meet my sister; she just transferred.”

  My irritation grew. “So why am I here?”

  “Buffer.” He glared. “If we stand together, we don’t get approached by girls who think they can change the whole no dating policy Wingmen has.”

  At that exact moment, someone walked behind me and squeezed my ass.

  “I’m not a piece of meat,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, tell them that,” Finn pointed to a group of girls giggling in the corner.

  Fine, I knew what they saw.

  I was just shy of six feet, had a lean, runner’s body, perfectly tousled hair, two small dimples, and tan skin thanks to my half-French heritage. I wasn’t too bulky, and I was smooth everywhere.

  And I do mean everywhere.

  I was also the sneak attack of our little gig we had going. I made girls comfortable because I could be both the sexiest guy in the room and the best friend they never knew they needed.

  Finn, on the other hand, dripped with liquid sex but knew how to turn it on and off at will.

  One day he looked like a hot nerd, the next day, you’d think he was auditioning for Magic Mike.

  He liked to keep his look unique.

  Which was why I asked him on a daily basis if he was in witness protection, annoying the hell out of him and entertaining the hell out of me.

  “They’re freshmen, let them stare,” I finally grumbled out. “So, your sister. She hot?”

  Finn’s glare could melt hair off my arms—if I had any that was. “Off-limits.”

  “Bro, I’m the closest thing you have to family other than your real family, I would never shit where I eat.”

  We both winced.

  “See? My game’s off! I need sleep! Who says shit and eat in the same sentence!” I let out a groan. Between work and classes, I was ready to sleep for years. Why did I think adding another minor was a good idea? Why?

  Finn patted me on the head. “Semester’s almost all over, and then we can join corporate downtown, take on our boring cushy jobs and spend all the money we’ve earned on prostitutes.”

  “Wet. Dream,” I said wistfully.

  His chuckle was low as he pulled out his cell. “She texted a half-hour ago. I’m going to go out and call her.”

  “Do you, bro,” I winked. “Do. You.” I laughed, “Going all protective big brother on her ass?”

  He clenched his teeth. “If some guy hits on her…”

  “Go.” I jerked my chin toward the door. “It’s too loud in here. Also, if I don’t make it… you can have the PlayStation. Just don’t open up the box under the bed. Burn it.”

  “Got it.” We bumped fists, and off he went, leaving me to fend for myself in a sea of horny underclassmen.

  Not my favorite thing.

  “You look familiar.” A raspy feminine voice came from behind me, causing my hackles to rise as I slowly turned.

  She had cropped, rich mocha-colored hair that went just past her chin. It was shiny as hell, making my fingers twitch at my sides. Ah, typical move. Distract the guy with the shiny thing and bam.

  I crossed my arms to keep from doing something I knew I would regret and offered her a polite smile. “Sorry, not interested.”

  She mimicked my stance and laughed. “I don’t believe I said anything about being interested?”

  Aw, the head tilt.

  Adorable.

  Bad Slater.

  Down boy.

  “You’re hot, I’ll give you that.” I shrugged. “And brave,” I smirked. “But I’m not the sort of guy that you want to bring home, sweetheart.”

  “Even better.”

  Huh, she didn’t look like our typical client.

  For one thing, she was too confident. She looked like the type of girl who would eat you alive, spit you out, then do it again just for entertainment purposes.

  “You a clinger?” I asked.

  One shoulder lifted and fell in a casual shrug. “Not unless I’m being picked up and slammed against the nearest wall.” She took a step forward. “No.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You speaking from experience or fantasy, little freshman?”

  “Sophomore,” she corrected me. “And you tell me.”

  She was close enough that I could see flecks of gold in her hazel eyes. She was on the short side, but her body was all curves, the kind that a guy liked to touch—often.

  Her red leather jacket offset her ripped skinny jeans and combat boots.

  Ballbuster.

  I’d been so busy fixing broken hearts, I’d forgotten how good it felt to have a challenge just drop itself right in my lap.

  “There’s rules for this sort of thing, you know,” I teased, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear, much to the dismay of the whiney girls in the corner, who had trouble hiding their disappointment. I cupped cute girl’s chin and turned her head from left to right. “You don’t look like you follow rules well.”

  “I guess it depends on who’s making them, hm?” Her smile was bright, and then those intense hazel eyes locked onto my mouth. “No names, just one nice little make-out session and if you want, I’ll let you touch my—”

  “You won’t let me do anything. I’ll take what I want, in front of a room full of people, and you’ll like it.” I dropped my hand. “Those are the rules.”

  She swallowed, drawing attention to her neck, and then her hands were pressed against my chest. “I’m down.”

  “You may regret that once you find out who I am.”

  “Doubtful.” She winked.

  “Your funeral.” I tilted her chin toward me, slowly lowering my head until I pressed a searing open-mouth kiss against her soft lips. She moaned into my mouth, twisting her hands around my neck, tugging me down harder.

  I pulled away, only to have her jerk me closer.

  I loved it way too much, lifting her into the air by her ass as I whispered in her ear, “This is the part where you cling, sophomore.”

  “Noted.” She hooked her ankles around my hips and fused her mouth to mine as I walked us toward the wall by the door. People were too drunk to care that we were making out, and it wasn’t like I was openly dating anyone.

  I was just doing what I do best as a Pleasure Pony.

  Getting mine.

  Damn, it had been a while.

  I forgot how good it felt to rub up against someone, to feel sparks fly while your heart slammed excitedly against your ribs. My blood heated as her tongue fought mine for dominance.

  God, I wanted to devour her.

  I groaned, digging my hands into her hair as she rocked against me, damn, right where I wanted her.

  I wasn’t just aroused.

  I was full-on ready to pin her against that wall and apologize for it after we both got off.

  Mouth bruised, she pulled back, sucking in air while her chest heaved up and down. I slid a hand inside her jacket and cupped a breast.

  Her eyes flashed.

  And then a hand was on my shoulder.

  And I was getting jerked away.

  “The hell!” I roared, trying to set her on the floor.

  A fist came flying.

  I dropped to the ground in a blur, then scrambled to get to my feet, only to see the guy on the other side of that fist was my best friend.

  “Finn?” I groaned. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You promised!” he roared.

  “That I wouldn’t make out with a complete stranger?” I grinned. “You jealous, bro?”

  “Ewwwwww,” The girl who I’d just assaulted with my mouth made a face. “He’s my brother.”

  “Your…” I pointed at her, then at him, then back at her, then decided to just lay back against the ground and allow the lower classmen to trample me to death. “Maybe lead with that next time!”

  “I did say you looked familiar.” She grinned.

  “Holy shit! Did you know?” I was ready to shake her!

  “Guess you’ll never find out.”
She sent me another of her winks then turned to Finn. “You were late.”

  “We’ve been here for forty-five minutes.”

  “I was in the kitchen.” She shot me a look before patting him on the arm. “Mom has some boxes for you. Want me to drop them off tonight or—”

  “Yeah, whatever. Sure.” A nervous look flashed across Finn’s face before he turned a murderous glare in my direction. “Never touch her again. Off-limits.”

  I held up my hands. “Like I would even breathe in her direction if I knew!”

  Something crossed her face before she glanced away. “So, I’ll just stop by in an hour or so?”

  “You’ll stop by now.” Finn’s expression held no amusement. “Party’s over, and I don’t want to have to see you kissing any other asshole.”

  “Still here,” I grumbled, getting to my feet.

  “Out of all the shitheads in here, you picked him?” Finn wondered out loud.

  “I can hear you.” I rolled my eyes.

  “I mean, really.” Finn just wouldn’t let it go. “You had your choice of—”

  “Can you be done now?” I interrupted. “Let’s get your sister home and away from Danny the Dickless.”

  “Wait, what? Who?” Her eyes widened.

  “Was his nickname in high school until plastic surgery, keep up.” I winked at her then wished I could take it back when Finn shot me another glare. “Son of a bitch, Finn, you know I can’t just turn it off!”

  “Try,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

  “I bet you were buckets of fun during her senior prom,” I teased.

  His sister burst out laughing, then shot me a saucy grin over her shoulder. “You know, I’m not eighteen anymore. He has about as much control over who I date as our dad has over how much Mom spends on shoes.”

  “Not taking the bait.” I shook my head. “You had your fun, congrats, but look for your thrills elsewhere, underclassman. Besides, you can’t really handle one of the Pleasure Ponies, least of all, me.” I knew I was probably hurting her feelings, but damn, it was Finn’s sister!

  His blood!

  No, just no.

  It didn’t matter how good she’d felt pressed against me.

  Or how hot it had been to hear her soft sighs of pleasure.

  Or the fact that she rocked that body against my erection like she was trying to get off.