Page 5

CHAPTER 5

Rodney

Later that week

Yaz pins me with her most fearsome stare. I hold the look as long as I can before sighing.

“Listen,” I start, “It’s not that I don’t want to…”

She snorts. “Of course that’s the reason. And it’s exactly why you need to go. It’s not your normal scene, but I think it will be good for you.”

While I don’t fully agree with her about my needing to go, she’s correct in her assessment that this isn’t my scene. I don’t party or socialize with other college kids. It only ever leads to trouble. I’m far too smart to put myself in that type of situation.

“You still haven’t presented a strong enough case for me to want to attend. Where is all that debate work going?” I tease her with a wink.

Clearly, I didn’t think this through. Because she doesn’t take it as a joking matter.

Not my friend.

Instead, she pushes her shoulders back as a glint forms in her eye. She’s going to prove exactly why she’s going to be a damn fine lawyer one day.

Just fucking great. Here we go.

“As you know, Rodney, it’s good to be a well-rounded student. While you are excellent in all things academic, your work in making connections is poor. As your only friend — ”

“Objection!”

Gotta speak her language to make her understand. It doesn’t stop her though. She just plows on.

“I am qualified to speak on this matter. It would do you wonders to get out there for a night. There have been parties every day this week. You’ve had plenty of chances to hit up at least one. Best of all, it’s Friday, meaning there are no classes tomorrow. You can sleep in if you like.”

“With Aries coming by to eat with Ma so often, it’s not likely that’ll happen.”

She sighs at the mention of my brother. I always thought she might have had a crush on him, though she’s never said a word. I think watching other people try to get to me through him put a bad taste in her mouth.

That or her bi-panic is too strong to ask to meet him. She’s been to a game with me, but she never stays long enough to get an introduction. Come to think of it, she also manages to disappear when he pops up on campus.

“Are you afraid of my brother?”

Her eyes go wide. “What?! No, I’m not. Where did you get that idea?”

“Just a thought,” I mumble. “Anyway, it does us no good to keep arguing this point. I don’t want to go. You can’t make me. End of story. I only stopped by to ask if you wanted to get coffee, and you try to corral me into having fun.”

I press a hand over my open mouth as if appalled by her idea. Yaz rolls her eyes dramatically, then turns back on her attorney persona.

“What can I counteroffer you to get you to agree? Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

I pause at the idea. It’s tempting.

Then again…

“Why do you want me to go so bad? And don’t give me shit about my social life or anything like that. You know I hate parties and don’t make the best company when there, yet you keep pushing it.”

With my eyes trained on her, I spot the second her body flushes. Is she embarrassed about something?

“Ok, look. The truth is, I need a wingman for tonight. There’s a girl in one of my classes that I can’t get the courage to talk to. I want to get a feel for her tonight since I overheard a conversation between her and her best guy friend where she said she’s definitely going to the party. Bonus points, he’s hot and single. Don’t know if he’s gay though.”

The agitation from before leaves in a rush. How can I be mad when she wants to explore a new relationship and wants support from a friend?

“Wait — isn’t there someone else you could take? Why do you possibly think I’d be a good wingman?”

Yaz shakes her head quickly. “You’re perfect for the job. Number one: You’re gay and won’t try to steal her. Number two: You’ll likely make her comfortable just by being your kind self. Number three: If you can distract the friend, I might have an in.”

“And how am I supposed to distract this not-even-probably-gay dude? I have no captivating traits or anything to get his attention.”

“You could talk about football and stuff. I know Aries has taught you enough to get by in a conversation. Or maybe discuss his studies. Anything to keep it to some small talk while I find out if I even stand a fighting chance with her.” She puts her hands together in a prayer pose and juts out her bottom lip.

I throw my head back and groan. “Fine! I’ll do this ONCE for you. After that, I’m party free until I bring something up.”

“Which will be never.”

“Glad we can agree on this. Now tell me when, where, and what’s the dress code? I don’t want to stand out in this place. Best to get in, get out, and not get cornered by some jock too drunk to hold back his hits.”

Yaz flexes her bicep. It’s not massive, but it’s enough to know she’s strong enough to put up a fight of her own. “I’ll protect you, RoRo.”

I grunt at the nickname, dipping my head to hide the blush that forms. She doesn’t need to know how much I enjoy the name or how I’m curious to explore the same things Raymond and his friends get up to.

Sadly, I’ve not been brave enough to open up that box of interest. I know once I do, I won’t be able to push down the urges. And without someone to test my ideas with, it’s pointless. I’ve never heard of someone regressing on their own.

Not that I’ve done a tone of research about it yet. Avoidance and all that.

“We’re going to have the best time tonight. I just know it,” she tells me, her voice far too giddy.

I doubt ‘best’ is the proper word here.

* * *

The regret is immediate when we arrive at the party.

Yaz swore jeans and a plain t-shirt were fine to wear. What she didn’t say was how little everyone else would be wearing.

Most of the guys are shirtless or walking around in just their boxers. The women are a strong wind away from completely nude. I won’t say it’s all of them, but it’s a strong majority. I feel like a nun walking past them.

When we get to the kitchen, the customary place where all the drinks are kept, Yaz grabs me a soda and a beer for herself. I raise my brow to say ‘thanks’ and also ‘how’d you know’ all at once.

“You don’t need to let your guard down. I know you wouldn’t want to be caught up in anything. Plus, I need the liquid courage. I’m only having the one though, just in case you need me to kick someone’s ass.”

Spluttering at her words, I direct us out of the way of others and into the main room of the packed house. It’s a living space that’s been cleared to make a part dance floor, part make out area. I ignore the writhing bodies while scanning for a girl that might be Yaz’s type.

I asked if she could just pull the girl’s social media pages up to show me, but they were locked up tight. Something about her having a dad who was strict on cyber security and all that. How my friend knew that much but didn’t have a photo was odd.

“Where is she? Let’s work our magic,” I shout whisper to Yaz.

She laughs, then shakes her head. “No sign of her yet. We can relax a bit until I spot her. Maybe even dance?”

“Absolutely not. I’m not smooth enough for that. Aries got all the good genes in that department.”

It’s a lie, though she doesn’t need to know that. Ma made sure we both had rhythm as kids. She refused to let us embarrass her, or ourselves, for not being able to keep up with a beat.

I’ve never put the skill to use. At least, not around others. In the privacy of my locked bedroom, I can salsa and slow dance with the best of the best.

As we hang back, I keep my eyes open for any possible hostiles while Yaz looks for the girl she likes. I spot a few athletes in the mix, though none who would come after me on their own. There’s a mob mentality to those guys. If they can’t bully me in front of their pack of friends, then they see no point in even acknowledging my existence.

Fucked up, right?

Yaz gasps and grabs my arm. “Holy shit! I didn’t think he would be so hot.”

I pry her fingers loose as I laugh. “We’re here for a girl, Yaz. Don’t be greedy and get a guy too. I thought monogamy was your thing.”

“It is, but damn, I’d still take him for a ride if the option came up.”

Turning to see who she’s talking about has me stopping short. The guy from in front of the library, aka the guy I’ve thought about nonstop since then, is standing at the door surrounded by the rest of the hockey team.

“Kill me now,” I groan as I push further back into the wall.

I want to disappear.

I need to teleport to anywhere but here.

Sensing my panic, Yaz steps closer, her arm linking through mine. “You have every right to be here. Don’t let those assholes get to you.”

Her words would have been comforting if my sole concern was being bullied.

The bigger issue was the guy I’d been crushing on bearing witness to said taunts. I know I said I’d be fine with it. I figured it would be an eventuality I couldn’t ignore.

But seeing him again has me flustered. Why is he so goddamn attractive?

I’ve never seen him before this week. Given how long I’ve been here, I should know who he is.

As my eyes stay locked on him, I observe the way he looks around the space taking everything in. His face doesn’t show any type of emotion. He could love the place for all I know. Though I suspect he’s not impressed. I have no clue why I think that. Call it a gut feeling.

I’m so caught up in watching him, I don’t duck in enough time when his eyes manage to spot me. His study of the room is forgotten as he homes in on me and me alone.

“Um, got something to tell me?” Yaz asks me.

It takes more effort than I’d like to admit to turn her way. “Tell you what?”

“That Mr. Tall, Pale, and Fine-as-Fuck is yours. Or that he wants to be yours. I’m not sure if he’s made a move yet.”

“What — No! He’s not… I’m not…”

She laughs, pulling her arm free as she folds forward. “I’m sorry. You’re just the best to tease about this stuff. I didn’t really think you two were together. He looks like he wants to murder me and take you back to his bedroom for the night. The murder eyes are dangerously hot, even when my life is at stake.”

“You’re very, very wrong. Whatever look you’re getting is probably because the team already told him how awful I am. It’s not a jealousy thing,” I insist.

“I wish we had more time to place a bet on this. It would be fun to put smarty pants RoRo in his place for once.”

“More time?” I ask just as someone behind me goes, “Hello.”

Without turning, I already know whose voice it is. I’ve only ever heard him speak two words, yet the sound is ingrained in my fucking soul.

Yaz’s smile kicks up a notch as she tosses back her drink. “Oh! Would you look at that? I need another drink. Be right back, RoRo.”

I scowl at her as she shifts past me and walks away. Before I can move, another body slides into the empty space, though his is much larger.

“RoRo?” he asks softly, as if both testing the name and asking for conformation.

I shake my head. “Rodney. My name is Rodney.”

He smiles softly, just the corner of his cheeks tipping up. “Rodney,” he confirms, though he doesn’t say it like it’s new to him. It’s more like he just wants to hear himself say it out loud.

What the actual hell is happening right now?