Chapter 5
Miles
I ’m a fucking masochist.
When I blew Dax off, I should have gone straight to the other side of the house.
Then I never would have heard his interaction with those assholes.
I never would have seen the way that guy was moving toward him, ready for a fight.
And I definitely wouldn’t have taken a punch for the guy, which is really fucking stinging right now as I beat it from Alpha Theta Mu.
Probably gonna get banned again, but fuck if I care.
Mixed with the pain in my jaw and knuckles is the burning question: why do I keep getting involved in Dax’s life? I don’t even know the guy. Not really. Although, maybe I know more than I should.
It’s not something I have much time to consider before I hear, “Hey!”
Dammit.
I dig into my pocket and fish out the joint I was planning to enjoy later tonight, but I’d love to be high right about now. I keep walking, hoping Dax will leave me alone, but I’ve learned that’s not his thing.
He jogs up beside me, then walks at my pace. “You gonna tell me what the hell that was about back there?”
I light up, taking a drag. It’s a good way to buy me time to come up with some excuse. Any minute now. I enjoy the sensation of the smoke filling my lungs before pushing it out. The fall breeze shoves it right back against my face.
“Miles…” he presses.
Hearing my name on his lips really grates on my nerves.
“Didn’t think a guy like you needed to run around snatching people’s boyfriends,” I snap.
“That’s not what was happening.”
“I fucking know. I heard the whole damn thing.”
He flinches.
Oh. That was a dumb thing to say.
“You guys weren’t exactly having a discreet conversation,” I reply to the question he hasn’t asked. “And here I heard you were good at reading people, but you can’t ask the most basic question when you want to fuck a guy.”
“I guess I forgot to give him the usual fifty-page questionnaire before I started dancing with him. And from his boyfriend’s reaction, it’s clear he’s a decent liar, so don’t put that on me.”
We come up to Omega Psi’s house. They’re having their own party tonight, and guys are hanging outside on the front deck and the lawn. I head through the yard.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Dax says.
“Apparently.”
I head up the porch and through the door.
A few acquaintances say hey and offer fist bumps as I navigate through the crowd, up to the second floor.
I check one of the rooms that’s usually open for hookups, and when I see it’s clear, I head inside, Dax right behind me.
I walk into the en suite and search through the medicine cabinet for some shit to deal with my lip.
I’m expecting questions or more pushing, but Dax is surprisingly quiet, which draws my attention more than if he was confronting me.
He’s leaning against the doorframe, glaring.
My gaze lingers on his features, studying them like I would when I draw him in class.
The curvature of his full lips, the way the light casts against his cheekbones, his vibrant green eyes with subtle brown streaks.
“I’m fine with sitting in silence,” he says.
“Is that why you just killed it?” I take another drag of my joint, then keep it between my lips as I grab the antiseptic.
Before I have a chance to reach for a tissue, Dax already has it and hands it to me.
This is where I’m supposed to say thanks, but I just take it and start wiping at the blood until it clears. Not such a bad ding.
“Don’t worry, you’re still hot,” Dax says.
I turn to him, study his face again, this time to figure out if he’s serious.
Does he think I’m hot?
Why do I even give a shit?
“You have a thing for people who tell you to fuck off?” I ask. “Is that your kink?”
“Do you want me to have a thing for people who tell me to fuck off? Is that your kink?”
I ignore him as I check myself in the mirror again before disposing of the bloody tissue. “Well, been as fun as it always seems to be with you, Dax. But this is the part where you actually fuck off.”
I breeze past him, ready to make an exit the way I did in class the other day, when I hear behind me, “You know, if you want to fuck me, it doesn’t have to be this difficult.”
I stop, turn back to him.
Now he’s got his back against the wall, arms folded, looking pretty damn full of himself, and I don’t know why it bugs the hell out of me—I guess I don’t like when people make assumptions about me that aren’t true.
“What?”
“Come on, Miles. This back-and-forth. One minute you’re hot, the next you’re cold. If you want to hit this, that’s not a bad thing. And you definitely don’t have to be a dick about it.”
I approach him, which I already figure is a mistake, but I can’t help myself, which seems to be my problem around him. “You think the reason I’m acting this way is because I’m denying some impulse to fuck you?”
Though…maybe. I consider it for longer than I should.
“It’s not a crime to be attracted to guys,” he says.
I chuckle. “I’ve accepted I’m attracted to guys a long time ago. Another sign you’re not great at reading people.”
“I already know I’m fucked when it comes to reading you.”
“Then maybe you should stop trying.” I consider taking another hit, but the rush I’m getting from staring Dax down is just as satisfying. I don’t deny that there’s chemistry here—fuck, it’s potent, lingering in the air…and I’m sure it’s my high that’s allowing me to enjoy it as much as I am.
And when Dax’s gaze sinks to my lips, I can’t help but lick them. His gaze sinks even lower, settling on my crotch, and I suddenly realize why.
Fuck. I’m hard as hell.
His eyes meet mine once again. I shrug, and his lips twist into an adorable dimple.
Adorable?
I need to get the fuck out of here, but instead I lean closer. “You should go back to your friends and talk about how the Omega Psi who set Sigma Alpha on fire last year is such an asshole and shouldn’t be allowed back to any parties.”
“Who follows guys home at night?” he presses.
Up until now, he’s only acknowledged I helped him back to Alpha Theta Mu, not that he realized I was following him, but how could he not?
“Maybe I was taking the scenic route back to my apartment.” The way I say it, I’m not even willing to tell a flat-out lie. Just dance around it.
“Is that what you were doing? Heading back to your apartment?” he asks, calling me out on my bullshit.
Part of me knows I should just blow him off, yet I keep doing that, and here he is. Another part of me realizes this could be the moment. He already thinks the worst of me, so what does it matter. Maybe I can finally scare him off once and for all.
“No,” I admit. “I was following you.”
He studies my face, his breath hitching. I don’t know if he’s scared or intrigued.
“I saw you drinking, and I didn’t know if you’d make it home all right.”
“That doesn’t sound like such a terrible thing.”
“Then ask me how I know you’d been drinking too much.”
He does, and I spit out, “Because I was keeping an eye on you all night.” I wish I weren’t so fucking impulsive.
I shouldn’t be admitting to any of this—it’s the sort of thing he could easily report to the university and have me expelled, and fuck if I need any more problems, but I don’t shut my mouth.
“I was watching you, Dax, like a predator keeps an eye on its prey.”
He gulps but doesn’t look frightened—he looks almost excited. “Why were you watching me?”
“Because you smile, and the world’s a different color, lighter.
And you like people and they like you. When your friends see you, they believe the world is good and just. And I don’t know, maybe it bugs me.
Maybe all I want is to be the one to remind you of how dark the world can be.
Maybe I wanna ruin your fucking life, Dax, so that you’ll be just as miserable as I am…
because that’s the sick monster I am.” It’s not that I want to ruin his life, but I fear that’s what would happen if he fucked around with me.
That there’s something evil inside me that would drag him down to this dark place I can’t get out of.
A place of pain.
Guilt.
But mostly shame.
Dax’s eyes flare as he seems to catch the weight of what I’m telling him.
The tension’s too much for me, so I enjoy another drag of my joint before adding, “You get it now, why you need to stay away from me?”
He nods, but otherwise he’s atypically quiet. Maybe he finally appreciates just how serious I am.
After a moment, he says, “But you helped me that night. And tonight.”
“Yeah, because everyone may think I’m just a bastard who fucks shit up, but you think I like this part of myself? You think I enjoy thinking that I want to fuck shit up? Fuck no. It’s just this demon in me, and I’m the only one who can stop it.”
“Miles…”
But I don’t want to answer another goddamn question—hell, I’ve said too much already—so I lurch forward, pressing my mouth to his, silencing him, relieved that he can’t get another word out.
As he kisses me back, I taste tequila with a drop of my own blood.
I push him back to the wall, my body gravitating to him…
It shouldn’t surprise me that a guy with Dax’s experience can kiss, but damn , and as his tongue greets mine, all these fucked-up thoughts in my head—the noise, the screaming—fade into the background. I’m hooked on wanting to keep it all at bay, which leaves me lingering on this kiss.
Even with what I’ve shared, Dax isn’t fighting me, which is a fucking shock, but I’m so selfish, I don’t care. Just like with anything else that can give me a moment of relief, I take what I can get, and he’s too generous. When I finally manage an ounce of restraint, I pull away.
His hot breath slams into my face, his lips curling into a smirk, and the biggest relief I feel is that he’s clearly forgotten whatever he was about to ask me, assuring me this is the time to get out.
“See you in class,” I say quickly before spinning around, tucking my joint between my lips, and bolting out as fast as I can manage. Once I’m out on the front lawn of Omega Psi, I notice the calm within me, how that kiss managed to quiet all that noise that normally plagues me.
That can’t be good.