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Triangle: The Complete Series
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Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"


Автор книги: Susann Julieva



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That voice of his does wild things to the lower half of my body.

“Then let’s just talk.” Quickly I raise my hand in a defensive gesture to stop him when he moves

closer. “Don’t touch me.”

He freezes in mid-motion, and a crooked smile curls the corner of his mouth. He looks baffled, but

impressed. And then he starts to laugh, shaking his head to himself.

“What?” I ask, my wall of self-confidence beginning to crumble. Is he laughing at me?

“Nothing.” He rolls onto his back, still smiling to himself. “I just can’t believe that I’m actually

gonna do this.”

“You are?” Great. There was no need for me to sound that surprised. There is mental head-againstthe-

wall-banging.

He willingly holds out his hands to me, grinning a little. “Tie me up if you must. Or you could just

trust me, for once.”

I laugh softly. “I might get back to you on the tying up. But I think we can do without today.”

To my utter surprise, I suddenly realize that I really do trust him. I dare myself to, but my heart is

beating loudly. And a part of me secretly wishes that he’ll let me down, just to feel his hands on me.

God knows I’m positively bleeding for it. But somehow I know that he won’t disappoint me.

“So tell me, why do you want to go to Germany?”

He’s either a far finer actor than I already know him to be, or he’s honestly interested in finding out.

And just the possibility of it makes me burn on the inside. My fingers twitch on their own account.

When I force my hand down to rest on the covers, it touches his by accident. And I leave it there.

It’s just about two inches of my skin against his, but electricity flows between us. And I know he

feels it too. The spot heats up, but neither of us pulls away. And I’m dying to grab his hand, but refuse

to, as if it were the most obscene thing.

This is not about the chemistry between us. And yet the chemistry is in everything.

Nothing I could say or do could truly shock Danny, shatter his world, or drive him away. I don’t

have to be careful around him. I don’t have to pretend. I can be me, and be real. And now I know that

this is why I’m really here. It’s why I need to be.

Chapter 2

Missing Out

CASEY: The bench on the edge of Shriner’s Park is really unusually uncomfortable. There’s a tall

statue of one of Woodhaven’s benefactors standing next to it, his face serene. James refers to him as the

“stoned dude”. I smile to myself. Somehow I doubt that that’s the expression they were going for. I’m

feeling very calm, watching as a rusty leaf sails through the air, spirals, hovers for a moment in midair,

then flutters weakly to the ground.

James is late, but I’m used to it, and don’t mind. I always tell him that he’s taking on too much. I

honestly don’t know how he manages to get grades like that with all the extra work. But it’s just one of

the things I admire about him, his determination and dedication. I wish I could be more like that.

Lost in thought, I watch a group of people leaving the building not far from me. Drama students, and

automatically my eyes search for Danny Rizzo. They gather by the front steps. Oh, here he comes. Sure

enough they were waiting for him. Someone hands him a cigarette and he leans in as they light it.

There’s a little smile on his lips that does funny things to me, and it seems to be doing even worse

things to that girl.

They all hang around near the building for a while. Something Danny says is making them laugh so

hard I can hear it from here. Now someone is giving a funny impression of someone – probably a

teacher – and the group is roaring with laughter. I can’t help but stare at Danny, looking so carefree and

much younger when he’s laughing. It just makes me ache somehow. Damn, I wish I really could hate

him.

It was a lot easier before he gave me that completely, totally mind-blowing blowjob on the beach. I

close my eyes and take a deep breath as the images come, and try hard to banish them from my mind. I

still get aroused every time I think of it. It’s horrible. I don’t like the way it made me feel. Because it

was wrong, and some things should just never happen.

I look away, to the other side, the direction James will be coming from. Something safe. Think of

something safe.

Professor Wickham’s assignment is giving me a headache and I think about it for a while. How am I

supposed to portray “fear”? I can hardly draw him a picture of a big, hairy spider, can I? I’ll have to ask

Leo what she thinks. We’re in a couple of classes together and she always has the best ideas. I’m

slightly startled when I notice someone approaching from my other side.

“I’m waiting for my man…”

Danny’s singing voice is almost as husky as Lou Reed’s, but not as curiously off-key. Damn. It’s

absolutely beautiful, just like everything about him. This is so not fair. My eyes focus on the perfectly

sun-tanned face with the laughing brown eyes as he sits down next to me uninvited, and I shrug with a

sheepish smile.

“Well, at least I have a man to wait for.”

He chuckles. “So, how was your summer, Mills? Monogamous and boring?”

“Monogamous and fun, thank you. We had a great time at our holiday lodge. Too bad you couldn’t

come.”

His eyes have that amused sparkle in them. It makes me remember why it’s simply impossible to not

have a crush on him at some point, although he’s clearly the worst person ever to fall for. Feeling the

need to say something else, I smile a little.

“And how was your summer?”

A grin flashes across his lips, but for reasons unknown, he fights to suppress it. “You wouldn’t want

to know.”

“That good?” I ask, one eyebrow arched, and he just looks at me with a secretive smile dancing on

his lips.

“Better.”

“Good for you. Did you go anywhere interesting?”

“You could say that.” There’s something about the tone of his voice that catches my attention.

“Where did you go, then?”

Our eyes meet, and Danny seems to be thinking about his answer for a moment. The topic

apparently amuses him.

Before I can get a reply, a shadow falls over the bench and we both turn our heads to see James

arrive.

“Hey.” James smiles at me and I greet him with a kiss, while Danny watches with an unreadable

expression. “Sorry I’m late, the meeting took longer.”

“No problem.”

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Not that long, no,” I lie warmly.

“Hey, Riz.” James barely looks at him.

“Hey, Jimmy.” Danny takes a last drag on his cigarette, then he drops it to grind it out.

James’ soulful eyes follow the cigarette on its way to the ground. He blows a strand of hair out of his

eyes. “So what’s up?”

“We were just talking about our summer.”

“Oh really?” James’ gaze sharply lingers on Danny for a moment. There seems to be a silent

interchange between them. Did I miss something?

“Mills tells me you both missed me.”

“Terribly. Almost as much as a third foot,” James replies sincerely, making me laugh.

Danny smirks. “Are you sure you mean foot, and not that thing between your legs?”

James’ eyes widen dramatically. “You mean that’s not a foot?”

“I could be wrong, but it strikes me as somewhat different.”

Laughing, I get up and pull James up with me. “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“You’re such a killjoy, Millsie,” Danny grins, and gets up too.

The conversation ends with some friendly banter, then we part. But something in Danny’s eyes as he

looks at James before he turns around makes me feel uneasy. Again, I think of the threesome, this time

of watching them together. It was the first time I detected the same kind of darkness in Danny that I can

sometimes sense in James. I’ve been thinking about it often over the summer, and it worries me.

* * *

“It’s good to be back, isn’t it? I actually missed campus a little.” I smile at James as we walk along.

“I thought I was supposed to be the nerd here.”

I laugh softly, with a sudden rush of affection. “You’re not a nerd. It’s not your fault you have a

brilliant mind that demands to be kept occupied.”

“I like the way you put that.” His eyes are smiling at me, and mine are twinkling right back at him.

“Anyway, I know you must be glad to be back.”

“Yeah, but I have my reasons. You love to be home with your folks. I would too, if they were my

family.”

“They adore you, you know that, James. You’re practically part of the family. Mom would adopt you

in a flash.”

“And feed me until I weigh a ton,” he chuckles, and I laugh. Very true. She goes on and on about

how he’s too skinny. Well, in my humble opinion, he’s gorgeous and absolutely perfect.

Reaching out to casually grab my hand, he smiles mischievously. “I’m so disappointed that Janie no

longer wants to marry me, though.”

I laugh, remembering how lovesick my kid sister used to be over him. Now that she’s decorated

every corner of her room with posters of boy bands, the good old days of her James crush seem to be

officially over.

Every time I come home now, Janie has become less like a child and more like a woman. It’s both

beautiful and saddening to see. She’s no longer the little girl who loved to ride on my shoulders when

we were kids, that’s for sure.

Everything’s changed now. I look at my boyfriend for a long moment, thoughtfully, and squeeze his

hand gently. “I really should tell them about us. I don’t know why I’m such a chicken shit about it.”

“Don’t feel bad. It’s sad but true, parents tend to be open-minded only as long as it doesn’t involve

their own son telling them that they’ll never have grandchildren.”

I smile at his cynical words, but nod. I guess he’s right. “I will tell them, though. Promise. I just need

a little more time.”

“Don’t stress out about it. I understand.”

I wonder if he really does. Thing is, I always wanted to have children, a whole bunch, at least three. I

wanted to get married and be a dad. It’s so firmly set in my mind that it’s hard to let go of this ideal. But

I could never tell him that. I look at James thoughtfully. Why do things have to be so hard? It sucks that

Danny has such a way with him. It’s as if, instinctively, he understands him better than I ever could. I’m

jealous of that strange bond they seem to share, I admit it. I’m jealous of both of them for different

reasons, and it makes me feel bad.

I think of Professor Wickham’s assignment again, and suddenly I know what I’m going to draw. It’s

something vague, something darker than night, something you can’t define. Something just barely out

of your reach, but always lurking in the background. No boogeyman, no big bad, just a feeling. That

cold feeling inside that something is about to go horribly wrong. You don’t know why, when or how.

But you know it will happen eventually. Right now, that is what fear means to me.

Chapter 3

The Usual Game

DANNY: Cafe Plato is the only place on campus with decent coffee, and the need for caffeine knows no

social barriers. Which is why even I have to enter Planet Geek every now and then. The place itself isn’t

too bad, they’re going for the art nouveau / Viennese coffeehouse look and have works by former

students decorating the walls. You can always find the philosophers in the niche opposite the door,

enigmatizing amongst themselves. The writers prefer the window front where they spend hours peoplewatching

and typing away on their laptops. The theater crowd completely owns the backroom, so I’m

usually there when I come in.

Sure enough, I’m spotted immediately, and various people are waving for me to come over the

moment I enter the cafe. Trey’s at the counter, just about to fight his way back to the backroom with a

steaming mug of coffee in his hand. When he sees me, he stops and points at his coffee with a question

in his eyes. I nod, and he grins and returns to the counter to order one for me. Good boy. Suddenly

someone grabs my hand and Daria kisses me hello on the cheek.

“Danny, have you heard? Rumor has it that Jeff wants to do Arthur Miller this semester!”

“Does he?” I arch an eyebrow and grin. “I had no idea Jeff was a necrophiliac.”

She laughs and playfully slaps my arm. “Really! You’re impossible.” She begins to drag me towards

the backroom, but then I see something that makes me let go off her hand and stop.

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“God, you always say that. And then we don’t see you for hours!” She shakes her head but smiles.

“Don’t be long. Everyone’s waiting.”

When she continues on her way without me, I return my attention to what made me want to stay

behind. Over there. James with Mills, at a small table on the side. I know he sees me, but he just looks

right through me, his eyes glazed over. As though he doesn’t know me at all. It stings, more than I’m

willing to accept. We’ve avoided talking to each other when the little dick of a boyfriend is present so

far, but come on. Even Mills can’t be that thick to not find that at least a little strange. So I’m thinking,

can’t hurt to make my presence known. And I head on over there. I won’t be ignored, that’s for sure.

“Rizzo,” Mills greets me with a smile. “I never see you around anymore. Are you trying to hide from

your fans or something?”

“Maybe.” My cryptic grin makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat as I grab a chair, but his smile

lingers. I can see through the friendly mask, though. He’s about as enthusiastic about being around me

as about getting his toenails ripped out. Suits me fine. Because if Mills doesn’t like me, it can only mean

that James does. As hard as J is to read sometimes, as obvious is the facial expression of superboyfriend.

James looks past me and frowns slightly when the chimes above the door announce another

customer. “Were you hiding from that one there?”

I look over my shoulder to catch the intense gaze of blue, coal-rimmed eyes. The tall, black-clad boy

is slender, almost thin, the short hair dyed black. Way too many silver piercings glisten in the pale face,

as though he were rebelling against the beauty it nevertheless possesses. Ah, the Goth kid. I remember

him. Nick… Keller or something. We were in a play together last semester. An Ideal Husband. Good

show. Great fuck. It was a one time thing and I haven’t talked to him since. But something in his eyes

just now catches my attention. I smile a little, vaguely, and turn back to James.

“What makes you think I would?”

“Maybe because he looks kinda scary?” Mills laughs.

“Does he?” I lean in closer and look into his eyes with a small grin. “Takes a whole lot more to scare

me.”

He notices the underlying challenge in my voice, and swallows. “Right. Then why don’t you prove

it?”

Sweet. Little Casey thinks we’re playing in the same league. We haven’t even started, kid, and

you’re wetting yourself already.

James glares at both of us. “Nobody needs to prove anything here, okay?” He stares at Goth as he

makes his way through the crowd to the counter. Something dark seems to flash in J’s eyes. Hold on.

Does he somehow know I’ve had the kid? If he does, he doesn’t seem too pleased, and I quite like that.

It gives me a thrill to think that he might be jealous.

A small frown appears on Casey’s forehead, and I realize that he’s noticed the look in J’s eyes as

well. Interesting. Maybe Sweetheart isn’t as thick as he lets on, after all.

“I was only joking”, he is quick to defend himself. Lame-o.

I shrug nonchalantly. “Too bad. I wasn’t.”

“Guys?” James interferes with a tired sigh. “Cut it out. I thought all that shit’s in the past.”

“It is.”

We nod simultaneously, and once again I’m astounded as to how skillfully James plays my

emotions. I think of his mom, and the man in the photograph with the confident smile and the cold stare.

I try to catch his eye, but he looks at Mills, and they smile at each other. And then Mills leans in for a

brief kiss and I get the urge to heave. I hate that they absolutely look like they belong. They have their

own small world that I’d never be able to understand, even if I wanted to. But J and I… what do we

have? Other than mind-blowing sex and one amazing conversation every couple of weeks? And lately

there’s been a devastating lack of sex, too. But here’s the big surprise: I thought that I’d mind more than

I do. Man, I crave to be with him again, and yet… the moments when he’s with me and we’re just

talking almost feel more intimate. I’ve never had anything like that before. I’ve just never bothered.

What for? But with J, everything is different. I feel like I need to own him completely to figure this out.

One thing’s for sure: I won’t be the other guy for him. It’s not acceptable.

But alright, let’s play nice, at least for now. I manage a pretty convincing smile as I look at superboyfriend.

“What? We’re cool. Aren’t we, Mills?”

“Sure.” He smiles. “I mean, it’s a weird situation for all of us, with everything that happened,” he

adds with a wry smile.

You mean that night on the beach, when I made you beg for more, and your boyfriend had me in

front of your eyes and you totally dug it?

“But we’re all adults, right?” Right. Funny how he can’t seem to look at me. “It happened, we all

had fun, no need to feel awkward now.”

No shit. I can’t hide an amused grin. “You’re feeling awkward, Mills? Do I make you nervous?”

“You wish.”

“Will you stop it, or I’m leaving right now.” James looks like he really means it, and I know he’s

mad. I’m just not sure if he’s mad at me, at Mills, or at both of us. Shit. Okay, I’ll be the reasonable one

then. They tend to look better. So I shake my head and get up. “No, you two stay. I’m leaving.”

“Rizzo, wait.” Casey sighs deeply, jumping on the reasonable bandwagon. “Can we at least try to get

along?”

“Sure.” I crack a charming smile and wink at him. “We can try.”

When he’s smiling back at me, unable to hold my eyes for long, I realize that there’s something else

there, unspoken. Is he blushing? His eyes dart up to my face again, briefly, and he swallows. Well,

damn. I blink slowly. Are you sure you’re completely over me, kid?

“See you two later.” I don’t wait for them to reply.

I make my way through the crowd to the counter, ending up exactly where I meant to, which is right

next to Goth. I lean against the counter and look at him as I wait for Josephine, the barkeep, to make her

way over. She’ll bring me the coffee Trey ordered before. Our eyes meet and I give Keller my special

grin. Yep, still pretty, this one. Wouldn’t mind having him again. Doesn’t seem like he’d mind being had

either.

I know that James is watching. I also know that Mills is doing his best not to watch but can’t help it.

Not that I give a damn about Mills. But I’m about to make a point here, and I have no doubt that both of

them will get their individual message. I’ll make you realize what you truly want, Jimmy boy. I’ll make

you see what you need. I’ll force you to if I have to. Whatever it takes, you know that I’m game.

Chapter 4

The Living Dead

NICK KELLER: Shit. Oh, damn. This isn’t my bed. My eyes aren’t even open yet, and I can already

tell. Where the hell am I? All right. First step: eyes open. Ow! Shit, it’s bright in here. I’m blind! Wait.

No, just adjusting to the sun. Okay, this room looks… female. I’m in a girl’s room. I wonder if she’s

pretty. I wonder how I got here. I wonder if it’s a bad thing that I don’t remember it.

Ah, the answer to my question. One of them, at least. She is pretty. And also angry.

“God, I thought you’d never wake up! I poked you just about a million times! I was this close to

calling an ambulance for you, I hope you know.” She’s talking too fast. And too loud. My head feels

like it’s going to explode. Why is she so loud? “You have to leave, you know. Some of us need to go to

class.”

Class. Right. What day is it?

“What day is it?” My voice sounds awful. I’m not that surprised. My mouth tastes awful too. What

the hell was I doing last night?

“It’s Thursday you idiot, now get out of bed. I have to get to class. Don’t you?”

Probably, but I don’t really care. Not like I’d be much good in class right now anyway. And why is

she so pissed off at me in the first place? Didn’t we…

“Did we fuck?”

She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Real classy, Romeo. And no. Never in a million years. You came back

here with my lunatic of a roommate. She’s been gone for hours, but like I said, we couldn’t wake you

up. But you’re awake now. So get out.”

Rude bitch. I manage to roll out of bed and somehow stand up. And the room is moving. And I’m

naked. Right. Clothes.

“Oh! God, they’re on the chair!”

I finally get out of the room while I’m still pulling my shirt on, and she’s still bitching at me through

the door. Like I really need that. She’s definitely not making my head feel any better, that’s for sure.

I can think of exactly four things that would make me feel better right now. My first choice – well,

there’s no chance of me getting my first choice this early in the day. Marc would kill me for even

thinking of calling before noon. Even if he didn’t kill me, he’d certainly never sell anything to me ever

again. And I’m not sure which is the worse threat: death or sobriety. My second choice isn’t going to

work either, because if I remember correctly, I don’t have a damn thing left to drink in my room. Third

and fourth are a shower and some coffee. And they seem to be my best bet.

The only question now is: which one first?

A quick look around, and I realize exactly two things. According to the mirror in the hallway, I look

about as good as I feel. Which is to say, like complete and utter shit. So a shower definitely needs to be

first. Luckily, I also realize that I’m in my own building, and just a few floors from my room.

It’s only a matter of minutes before I’m under hot water, washing something pretty disgusting out of

my hair. I’m not sure what (or whose) it is, but the shampoo gets rid of it quick enough.

I think about giving myself a little personal attention in the shower, but I’m sort of afraid I might end

up slipping, and I’m not sure I’d be able to stand back up in my current condition. And I do not want to

spend another afternoon sitting naked on the floor of a dorm bathroom. So that idea is vetoed and I

finish up my shower.

I get dressed slowly, still needing coffee. Badly. I’d love something stronger. But what is it they say?

Beggars can’t be choosers, or some crap like that. I guess this is what it means. So I’ll settle for the

coffee. And thank god that most of my clothes are black, because I’m not sure I’d be able to match

colors right now.

Black jeans, black t-shirt, black shoes. My hand is surprisingly steady, so I take my chances with the

eyeliner. I’m able to get it on without poking myself in the eye. Much.

There’s a cafe on campus not too far from my dorm, and the coffee there is pretty good. Better than

anywhere else around here at least. And don’t ask me why there’s only one place on this entire campus

where you don’t gag when you drink the coffee. It’s a goddamn university! People are either hungover

or studying. Either way, they need decent coffee.

I mean really!

Better than being at home though. There I have to make my own coffee. And by the time I get up,

that automatic piece of crap coffee maker is set for the next day. And damn if I can figure out how to

override the thing when I’m hungover. And it’s not like anyone else in that house is going to stop in the

kitchen while I’m there and show me how.

Bastards.

I finally put it on the list of “Things Nick Needs While He’s Here.” Non-automatic Mr. Coffee. That

damn list is hit or miss, though. Sometimes I don’t think anyone looks at it for weeks at a time, but two

days later my Mr. Coffee showed up on the kitchen counter. Mom never said a damn thing about it. I

doubt she’s even the one that bought it.

Doesn’t change the fact that I still currently need coffee. I feel like a freaking zombie. One of those

that’s missing a few body parts or something. You know, like an arm and half a brain.

I’m still half a block away from the place, but I can just see someone walking in through the door. Even

from here I can immediately recognize him by the way he moves.

Because I remember the way he moves.

Rizzo. Best, hottest lay I’ve had in a long time. And it was last year, which says something that I can

still remember it. It’s like he got stuck in my head, or something like that. Not that it’s important or

anything. We had to work together because of that show, but I don’t think we’ve said a word to each

other since then. On or off stage.

Wouldn’t really mind doing that again, though, and that’s not something I usually go for. You start

hanging around one person too much, things get complicated. And I don’t need that.

It’s pretty crowded inside when I push my way through the door, and whose bright idea was it to put

bells on the damn door? I need bells right now about as much as I needed that bitch shouting at me

earlier.

The cafe isn’t big, but it isn’t small either. But I can immediately tell where he is. It’s like the whole

place adjusts itself to him. I don’t know how he does it. I wish I did.

Holy shit. He’s actually looking at me. What the…? He hasn’t done that since… And what the hell is

wrong with that asshole at his table? What did I do to him that he looks about ready to shove his coffee

mug down my throat? Back off, man. Not like I slept with your mom or anything.

At least I don’t think so.

I’ve been pushing myself past people this whole time, and I’m finally at the counter. I can’t

remember what her name is, the girl behind the counter, but I think I might love her. She says she’ll

bring me my coffee. Hallelujah.

I risk a glance back over at the table across the cafe while I’m waiting, but no one’s looking this way

anymore. I’m not sure what that was all about before, but they’re obviously past it now.

I can’t bring myself to care too much, because coffee girl is back. And she’s the best person in the

world right now. Coffee. Lovely, black, and sweet. It’s way too hot, which I find out only after taking

that first big gulp. It comes down to weighing pain against caffeine, and caffeine obviously wins. It’s

nearly perfect. And it would be perfect if I had a smoke to go with it.

And suddenly, there is one. Only it belongs to Rizzo. Who has somehow managed to cross the cafe

while I was trying to mainline my way-too-hot coffee. And damn if I didn’t forget what being this close

to him does to my body. My hangover’s instantly gone and the hair is standing up on my arms and he’s

giving me that grin (that “screw you, I’ll do what I want to” grin) that I can actually feel. He’s close

enough now that I can feel it when he exhales in my direction. I inhale, not sure if I’m breathing the

smoke in, or him.

He’s loose and relaxed, and he looks the way I feel when I’m performing on stage. A thought rams

into my brain out of absolutely nowhere, and I realize that he is performing for someone. I follow my

hunch and glance over his left shoulder, and sure enough, Rizzo’s “friend” looks about ready to spit

nails. I can’t help but grin.

So that’s what this is all about. Hell, I’ve played this game before, more than once. Nothing better to

piss someone off than going to “that boy with all the piercings”. I’ve gotten good at helping make

people jealous, but even if I wasn’t, there’s no way in hell I’m going to say no to that look Rizzo’s

giving me. He doesn’t even need to say a damn thing.

We just stand there for a minute, still not saying a word. I watch him smoke his cigarette until he

looks back over at me and one corner of his mouth quirks up. Then he turns and walks to the door, and

I’m burning the back of my throat on the last of my coffee and following after him. I throw a grin back

over my shoulder as I push out the door and laugh to myself as I watch that guy’s eyes darken.

And then I’m done laughing, because I’m back in the sun, and blinking at the light, cursing the fact

that I was too out of it to grab my sunglasses. I feel like I’m waking up all over again, and have to stop

myself from rubbing at my eyes and messing up the liner.

Somehow, stepping into the sun almost made me forget about Rizzo, but suddenly my vision clears

and he’s right there – closer than I thought he’d be, and still with that grin on his face. And damn does

he look good.

I’m very aware that I’m not at my best at the moment, especially standing next to him. I’m hungover

and waiting for the caffeine to fully kick in. I’d be worried, but he doesn’t really seem to mind.

He starts walking and I follow until he takes a quick turn into one of the campus buildings. I don’t

even notice at first, and I take a few more steps before he leans the upper half of his body back out the

door.

“Hey!” He’s grinning even more at me when I turn around in surprise. He raises an eyebrow as I

walk back towards him. I don’t say anything, and I know he’s laughing at me.

I vaguely recognize the building we’re in. I think I might’ve had a class here last year that I went to just

enough to not fail. Up one hallway and around a corner and I’m not quite sure where we’re going when

he grabs my arm and pulls me into the men’s room.

We’re barely through the door when I’m pulled to the side and my back is against a tiled wall. A

split second later he’s pressed up against me, and even just that feels so amazing. I have to close my

eyes to keep myself from making some embarrassing sound, and when I open them again I realize that

there’s actually someone in here trying to take a piss. I laugh out loud at the look on his face. And I just

can’t help myself.

“You done, or are you planning on staying to watch?” I lean my head back against the wall, my eyes

half-closed, and rock my hips forward against Rizzo’s as I say this, and I’m not sure which is better: the

heat in Rizzo’s eyes or the complete terror in the other guy’s.

I slide my hand to the front of Rizzo’s jeans, start undoing the buttons of his fly, and the guy at the

urinal zips up so fast I’m afraid he’s going to get something vital caught in there. Rizzo laughs low and

sexy in my ear as the guy sprints from the room.

Something that sounds a lot like “unbelievable” is laughed against my neck before there’s teeth there

and a mouth that’s so. Hot. I’m pulling at his shirt and over the pounding in my ears I can vaguely hear


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