“Fine.” Jack winked at Ed and beckoned him closer.
“Did you really plan that?” Ed asked, the light in his eyes dancing with humor.
Jack tried to look innocent. “You think I could have planned that?”
“Yes!” half the team said at once.
Marcus clapped Ed on the shoulder, and the two most awesomest guys in Jack’s life grinned at him. “Let’s hope he works off the rust before tryouts start.”
Marcus rejoined the other players, leaving Ed and Jack alone. “You could have told me what you were doing. I wouldn’t have dove for the ball.”
Ed dusted some of the dirt from his shirt. The movement caused the shirt to ride up, exposing the trail of hair leading to his shorts. The effect was instant, and Jack tore his eyes away. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. Just be sure you’re up for it.”
“I’m calling the shots tonight.” Ed leered at Jack. “It’s you who’d better be sure.”
The End.
Next in the Harrison Campus series
Better Have Heart
They hate everything about each other, so why do they harmonize so well?
Isaiah Nettles wants a chance. A chance to help his family.
The prestigious Gage Scholarship will secure his future. He needs this.
The competition might be hot, but Darren Gage is a golden child.
No way will Isaiah let an entitled rich kid be handed the award.
But what if Darren is more than an entitled rich kid?
Darren Gage wants to be seen. Seen as more than just his name.
The Gage Scholarship will let him shine. He needs this.
Sure, Isaiah is insanely sexy—and right to stand up for himself—but he is the competition.
No way will Darren let just anyone take his legacy.
But what if Isaiah isn’t just anyone?
Better Have Heart
Harrison Campus #2
Darren
Darren Gage was a disappointment. To his dad and to himself. And he wanted that to change.
There were many reasons for being disappointed in himself. Like how he’d stood by Harper, biggest douche in their frat, and let him tear into Jack mercilessly for confronting him about cheating on his girlfriend. Or how he’d forced himself to laugh at cruel jokes because it was the path with least resistance.
But mostly, he was a disappointment because he couldn’t tell Dad his attitude sucked since Darren had come out.
At least Mom was taking to it.
Sort of.
Not quite the way he wanted.
Darren stared at the message his mom sent and wished he’d jumped into the shower right after soccer practice rather than check his phone. Instead, he’d scooped it from under the folds of blankets that were puddled on the floor. He was too damn addicted to this thing.
He plunked his sweaty ass on the corner of his bed and rubbed the end of the phone against his temple, groaning.
Mom: Someone wanted to say hello and they wish they’d known you were gay last summer.
He winced and tapped the attached video. It was Max Whateverhisnamewas, saying hello and smiling stiffly at him from the screen.
Thing was, Max wasn’t smiling at him. He was smiling at Darren’s lineage. At Darren Josiah Gage Sr., the oil baron, not Darren J. Gage V., the student. Max and his parents wanted a husband with the right credentials. The measuring stick for “right” was how many generations the family had been wealthy. Clearly, the Gages passed the test.
Even if Max was the hottest guy ever, Darren couldn’t stomach his family. They tried too hard to fit in. All he wanted was something genuine. Real.
True.
He stared through his open door into the bright hall.
Piano music tinkered through the house, and he flung himself backward on the bed and bathed in the calming notes.
He looked at his walls.
His side of the dorm room looked like a homage to Cristiano Ronaldo. He’d never been allowed to tape tacky posters on the wall growing up, and he made up for it here. The plastered walls were comfort. A glimpse of the normal guy under the shadow of Gage and all the generations of wealth that name represented.
He snuck another look at Mom’s message.
What would it be like to have someone smile at him for him?
His fraternity brother’s panicked voice hurtled down the hall, breaking his thoughts. “I need two hundred and fifty dollars to get my car. I can barely spare fifty.”
“Shit, Seth. I’m sorry.” Billy Dorgan sounded like he was wincing on Seth’s behalf. “I’d help out, but my parents haven’t loaded my spending money into my account.”
“This is so cracked. I didn’t even unpack everything ’cause I didn’t want to leave my car there.”
Annoyance sparked through Darren. Campus police only targeted the cars of people they knew couldn’t make a fuss. As if the rich kids didn’t double-park all the time. How many free passes had Darren got? And he didn’t think twice about what went off his card.
Another unfair advantage that came with the name Gage.
A door shut, muffling their voices.
The music stopped, too, and he was left stewing in his own sweat, made worse by the fact he had to answer his mom.
He imagined how he might reply.
Hey Mom, stop trying to set me up with men who have “decent” last names. In fact, stop trying to set me up at all. Especially if they’re stuffed shirts. We good? Love you.
Or, if he wasn’t quite that brave:
Hey Mom, Max has a sister, right? How about playing matchmaker with Cody? He’s the son who needs to stop dropping trou at the first hint of a smile.
He sent his mom a waving emoji. He sure was well versed in taking the coward’s route. Like signing up for summer classes to avoid the annual trip to the family’s estate in Rhode Island.
Yeah, he couldn’t stand an entire summer of his dad ignoring him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Maybe Dad just needed time.
Or maybe Darren first had to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment.
His phone vibrated. Not Dad. Never Dad anymore. He tossed it across the bed.
Yeah, he needed to improve himself. Be better. Win Dad over.
And himself over, while he was at it.
“Calm down, Seth. We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” Seth walked past his door, hands clutching his head, looking miserable.
“Hey,” Darren said. The pair jumped and twisted toward his room. He cleared his throat. “What happened to your car?”
They eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame them. They were tight with Jack, and Darren had been particularly idiotic to the guy last year.
Heat burned up his chest. Shame and guilt and the clawing urge for redemption. For people to know he was sorry. That he was trying to be better.
Billy eyed him warily. “Campus coppers towed him. They didn’t tell us it happened, so it took a day and a half to find it. If you don’t pick up within forty-eight hours, they double the fee.”
Darren rolled off his bed and dug into his bag for his wallet and keys. “I take it they don’t accept credit cards.”