I scrub my palm over my face. “We—”
“I don’t want to hear about what sort of shit my son has roped you into. I get it. He can be persistent when he wants something, but don’t worry about your reputation here. My son is probably already thinking about his next conquest, one that I’m sure will embarrass me even more than this.” Curtis turns on his heel, storming out of the room.
Snagging up my discarded jeans, I throw them on and chase him to the door. “Curtis, wait.”
He flings open the door but turns his angry gaze on me.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. “I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.” Or at all.
“Keep your dick in your pants, Thompson, or we’re going to have big problems. Consider it a warning. I may not want to report this shit because it’ll bring severe shame down on me and this university, but it doesn’t mean someone else won’t notice and do it anyway.” Curtis scowls. “For your sake, I hope it was a one-time thing and my son has already moved on to the next shiny toy.”
I open my mouth to defend Ashton, but Curtis storms away. I shut the door and stalk back to the bedroom to find Ashton pacing, his face twisted in fury.
“Ashton,” I growl, gripping his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “I’m sorry.”
He frowns, looking just like his father. “Why? It’s my fault.”
“None of this is your fault,” I rumble. “It’s unfortunate he saw what he did, but it doesn’t change anything about us. Only that we need to change the fucking locks.”
Ashton laughs. “I do feel a little bit happy that I ruined his day. Sorry you were a casualty.”
“He doesn’t know you like I do—like we do. You’re fucking amazing, Ash. Hilarious and hot and affectionate.” I give him a kiss. “And loyal. Fuck your dad for not seeing it.”
And in a very vulnerable, un-Ashton like move, he hugs me tight, like he’s afraid if he lets me go, I’ll disappear forever.
It does something to me.
Wraps tentacles of protection around the place he’s carved inside my heart.
I may be royally screwed as far as the dean’s concerned, but I won’t let it take the driver’s seat in my mind. No, my concern lies with Ashton. He doesn’t need to be made to feel like he’s a cyclone that wrecks through everyone’s worlds with no regard to the consequences.
“Ready for me to feed you, boyfriend?”
He laughs. “If it includes ice cream, I’m so in.”
“Whatever you want,” I say, nipping at his ear.
And I mean it.
It feels really good to make someone like Ashton Carter happy.
Really good.
I shake my head as I walk out of class reading Ashton’s text.
Ashton: Is your dick ready?
Me: Depends. For what?
Ashton: My mouth.
Fucking Ashton. It’s thrilling to know that he’s serious and I’m allowed to do this with him because we’re doing this. We’re really doing this. My parents will probably shit bricks when they discover I’m dating three people all at once, but I can’t find it in me to worry too much over that now.
Because I have them all.
Mia, Drew, and Ashton.
Me: What sane man ever said no to a blowjob? Of course I’m fucking ready.
Ashton: My blowjobs are the best. Mia just got home and we’re discussing with Drew who gives the best head. You’re the only one who can answer this question. After I blow your mind.
Me: Awfully confident. Have you seen Mia’s lips? Fucking swollen and perfect. And Drew’s tongue? The bar is high, man.
Ashton: Tongue, lips… yeah, yeah, yeah. I can guarantee neither of them will suck you down their throat the way I can. Oh, Mia says hi and that this is awfully graphic for text.
Me: It’s hot. Hey, beautiful.
Ashton: Hey yourself.
Me: That was for Mia.
Ashton: Sorry, she’s too busy kissing Drew now. I guess it’ll have to be for me instead.
Me: Fine, it’s for you too. See you in a few.
I shove the phone into my pocket, grinning. The thought of Ashton blowing me while Drew and Mia watch is almost too much to take. I’m looking forward to a blowjob competition. I’ll be the true winner in the end.
“Brayden!” a high-pitched voice calls out.
Groaning, I turn to face the person. Sasha. Lovely. “Oh, hey.”
“How’ve you been?” Sasha asks, touching my forearm. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you since the auction, but the sorority keeps me so busy.”
“I’m good. Just headed home.” Well, not mine…
“I could walk you,” she offers.
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
Her pink lips purse, clearly annoyed at being turned down. “I just wanted to apologize.”
“For?”
“For what happened at the auction.” Her brows knit together. “I’m sure that was embarrassing in front of everyone. Your team. Coach. The dean. I know how private you are about certain aspects of your dating life.”
“What was embarrassing?” Jesus. Did someone see Drew and me holding hands at the auction under the table? “And what aspects are you talking about?”
Her nose scrunches up. “Ashton bidding on you, silly. Everyone knows he’s gay.” She studies me for a moment. “People might wonder about you too.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she continues.
“No one is going to hold it against you if you don’t go on the date. He probably just wanted to humiliate me and his father. Ashton’s like that. I’ve known him since I was a teenager. He’s just rotten.”
“Sasha,” I growl, my voice laced with warning. “You can stop worrying because it was fine. Ashton and I had a great date.”
Her eyes widen comically. “Ew, you poor thing. He actually made you go through with it? If he put his hands on you, we can report this—”
“Stop,” I snap. “Leave him alone.”
My harsh words have her recoiling. “Brayden…”
I’m about to bail, annoyed with the way she talks about Ashton, when I see him.
Not Ashton.
Travis.
Rage builds up inside me hot and quick. I take off running in his direction, dumb Sasha long forgotten. Travis sees me coming and sprints down the corridor. He skids to a halt and darts down a hall. I run after him, turning the corner just in time to see him slip into the restroom. I rush toward it and fling open the door. My chest heaves from exertion as I seek him out. A stall door starts to close, but I stop it with my arm.
“What the fuck, man?” he snarls.
I shove my way into the stall, crowding him against the partition wall. He groans when I press my forearm against his windpipe, leaning in to glower at him.
“You think it’s okay to fucking slash Ashton’s tires? To frame him for drugs? To threaten and try to poison him?” I press harder, making him wheeze. “I should beat your fucking ass for that shit!”
“For Ashton? He doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” he hisses.
“Fuck you. You don’t get to say what Ashton deserves.”
“If you’re going to beat me up, defending your boy’s honor, then do it.” He laughs cruelly. “That’s right. You can’t. That would get you kicked off the hockey team and probably out of this school.”