Chapter 4 Torin
Torin
The scent of ripe, fresh pineapple hits the air as I slice off the fanned top of the fruit.
I dice it up on the deck table outside, putting each piece in a big wooden bowl.
The windows to the kitchen are open wide.
I’m out on the back deck alone, but inside, the Onyx House kitchen area has morphed from being a quiet, serene area full of morning light into a full-on zoo over the past hour.
More and more frat boys keep descending downstairs in search of coffee, bacon, and protein smoothies.
I was downstairs alone an hour ago with a cold brew, throwing the windows wide open and getting ahead on reading for my upcoming Ecology class. Then the long dining room table started filling up and I stepped outside, watching the Crimson College guys in their natural habitat.
None of this is what I’m used to.
Until my year-long volunteering position last year, I’ve been at a smaller college close to my hometown that’s focused almost entirely on preparing students to work in the real world.
At my school, there aren’t fraternities, and there certainly aren’t “secret societies,” which I still don’t even understand.
At my college, I have a small, brick-walled dorm room all to myself, in a building that’s mostly full of grad students.
Other than classroom days, I spend most of my time out in the field anyway. Studying ecology isn’t exactly like studying business or finance or marketing, like most of the Onyx guys do.
It’s real work.
Outdoor research.
And there’s no bro-fest zoo like the one I’ve witnessed like this, every morning at Onyx House.
I take a bite of juicy pineapple as I see Noah walking into the kitchen inside. He’s wearing a baby-blue tank top with its arm holes cut super low, so the muscles at the side of his torso are visible as he moves.
Such a gym bunny.
You know exactly which areas of your body to show off.
His gaze finds me quickly through the window.
My stepstalker can’t seem to get enough of me lately, especially when I’m outside and shirtless.
I blow him a kiss.
He flips me off, walking over to hang with Roman at the end of the dining table.
I turn away, heading back over to the small outdoor table that I’ve been refinishing this week. Today I’m applying a second coat of dark wood stain.
None of the Onyx guys really seem to know how to do shit like this.
They work out a lot, and the gym seems like a second home to most guys here, including Noah. But the moment I got here, I noticed repairs and refinishing that I could do to make so much of the original woodwork and many of the furniture pieces shine.
And it’s not that the Onyx guys aren’t interesting to me.
They’re fucking fascinating.
Everyone in Onyx Society is hot, first of all, so much so that I almost wonder if attractiveness is a secondary requirement for joining a secret society. I especially notice the guys who are out and proud about their sexuality, because witnessing any flavor of queerness is a hell yes from me.
I already caught Weston and Sev making out earlier while I was still inside.
Niko and Oliver were feeding each other strawberries dipped in whipped cream at one point, too, and Hunter and Rayne are currently standing at the stove making eggs while Hunter periodically squeezes Rayne’s ass.
Onyx is apparently an accepting place, which is a massive plus.
But all of the guys here are off-limits.
Keeping hookups casual at all times means that I’m not going to stick my dick in any of this frat-boy eye candy.
The common phrase is don’t shit where you eat, but for me, it’s more like a refusal to make promises that I can’t keep. I’m always up front about the fact that I’m not looking for a relationship. Not now, and probably not ever.
I’m unwilling to be tied down.
By anything, or anyone.
My ambitions are too important to me, and with a career that will have me traveling all over the globe, I refuse to be the cause of anyone’s broken heart.
Because I’m actually not an asshole, despite what Noah probably thinks—I just know love isn’t in the cards for me, and I’m never going to lead anyone down a dead-end path with me.
The air outside Onyx House heats up as the sun rises further into the sky.
Sunlight beats down on my back as I finish the second coat of stain on the table, working in the middle of the back lawn.
After it’s coated, I pull off my gloves and I’m in desperate need of ice water.
I walk back toward the house, grabbing the bowl of pineapple and tossing my T-shirt over my shoulder as I head inside.
I’m greeted by the scent of maple syrup as I walk in.
I lock eyes with Noah in the corner of the room and he glances downward toward my pecs, then averts his eyes.
He acts differently the moment I’m in the room, every time.
With the other guys, he’s loose as hell, talkative, and approachable when I’m not around. But now I see his spine going a little more rigid and his easy smile disappearing as he turns back toward Roman.
I head over to the kitchen where Rayne and Hunter are hanging out.
“Torin, that table is starting to look fucking sick,” Rayne tells me as I head over toward the kitchen island. He and Hunter are mixing up big bottles of electrolyte water and shaking them up.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
Hunter glances at me, then turns back to Rayne. “Should I get my nipple pierced, Rayne?”
“You would look hot with it, if you wanted,” Rayne tells him.
“Torin,” Hunter asks me, “have you ever had your dick pierced?”
“Can’t say I have. I’ve thought about it, though, mostly because I think it might feel very nice for the people I’m with.”
“Exactly,” Hunter says. “I don’t think I’d go through with it, but fuck, it can look hot, sometimes.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, my love?” Rayne asks Hunter.
“No. You’re perfect, and your cock is perfect.”
Rayne grins, squeezing Hunter’s waist before looking back at me.
Across the room, Noah and Roman are standing up and walking out into the hallway together. Noah has his leather-bound planner in his hand, and the two of them seem like they’re discussing something serious.
After they disappear further down the hall, I nod.
“What are they doing?” I ask Rayne.
“Roman and Noah? Who the hell knows,” he says.
His expression changes a little, and steps a little closer, glancing over in that direction to make sure they’re out of earshot.
“Torin, it’s not my place, so tell me to fuck off if you want to.
But I wanted to ask… what’s the deal between you and Noah? ”
I shrug a shoulder, popping another piece of pineapple in my mouth. “He’s jealous of me. That’s it. That’s the whole deal.”
I grin at Rayne, but the truth is that I don’t even know if it’s a joke.
Rayne smiles and shakes his head. “Noah’s been fucking roughing it for the past few months. He quit drinking, then quit having hookups, and all summer he’s just… not himself.”
Interesting.
I’ve noticed that Noah talks to Roman a lot. And it’s completely obvious that Roman Petrov is one of the guys in Onyx who has family ties to the mafia. If the vodka, Mack truck build, and endless tattoos don’t make it clear, the way he always has private conversations sure as fuck does.
“I can tell Noah’s acting weird,” I say to Rayne. “But Noah’s never been comfortable when I’m around.”
“Mm. Can you go easy on him?” Rayne asks me.
“That’s not really my style. I wanted to ask you something, though.”
“Go for it.”
“Roman is the one who’s involved with the mob, right? What does that actually entail?
Rayne glances across the room again. “He doesn’t really talk about it. Not directly, at least. He’s constantly telling us his cousins can ‘do things’ for us if we need them, or provide protection, but that’s about it.”
I watch across the room and see that Roman is walking back into the kitchen with Noah, his hand placed at the small of Noah’s back.
They go back to the end of the long dining table.
How fucking close are you two, stepstalker?
I lean closer toward Rayne and Hunter. “Is Noah involved in that stuff?”
“Noah? Fuck no,” Hunter says quietly, with a laugh. “That would be way too serious for him. He plans events for Onyx Society, but like, fun, social events. Parties. Strip poker. He doesn’t get involved with anything close to crime.”
I watch as Roman squeezes Noah’s shoulder before finally getting up again and crossing the room, walking past us to grab a mug of coffee.
What’s with the touchy-touchy he has going on with Noah?
Maybe that’s just how Roman is with everybody, but I haven’t seen him chumming up to anyone else all week.
I grab a cold glass of water, nod at Rayne and Hunter, and head over to the table to take a seat directly across from Noah.
I sit there and grab a tangerine from one of the bowls at the center of the table, and as I roll it back and forth in my hand, I just watch him.
He looks annoyingly good in that tank top.
The low-cut arm holes somehow make him look even better with the way he’s sitting down, because the cotton hangs forward and you can see part of his chest exposed on the sides.
The shirt must be an old one he cut up after a fraternity event, because the white text on the front reads Flirt-Fest Spring Semester, Valentine’s Day Bash.
A “flirt-fest” sounds exactly like the kind of bullshit party that Noah would plan. I’m sure it included some silly adult version of Spin the Bottle.
He’s looking down at his phone and obviously trying to ignore me, but I still catch his eyes as he glances up once, then twice.
He notices me staring.
“Are you going to eat that tangerine or just roll it like a stress ball?” he mutters.
“Don’t know yet.”
“Then what the fuck do you want? Can I help you?” he asks as he glares at me from under his lashes.
“Sure. Want to have a flirt-fest?”
“Asshole,” he mutters, shaking his head and looking back down at his phone.
“Could also use a full body massage. Where should I lie down?”
Roman reappears beside Noah, sitting down with a big mug of black coffee.
I know it’s kind of Roman’s thing to act like a bodyguard, but it really feels like he didn’t even want me to have one minute alone with Noah.
Roman nods at me. “You know, back when Oliver was single, he would have jumped at an offer to massage a guy like you. He’s very taken now, though.”
“I can see that.” When we both look over at Oliver and Niko now, Niko is literally scooping Oliver up off of the floor and holding him in his arms as they kiss. “Looks like they’re about to raw-dog each other on top of that stack of napkins.”
“Thanks, Torin,” Noah tells me. “Do you have to talk about raw-dogging over breakfast?”
Roman snorts a laugh. “Excuse me? Since when do you have a prudish bone in your body? Noah, last semester you nearly had sex on the kitchen floor with Jessica, and you did have sex with that one blond girl on the roof. You could have died up there, and you just bragged about it the next day.”
“Damn, bro,” I tell Noah, lifting an eyebrow. “Old habits die hard, don’t they?”
Noah looks like he wants to murder me.
Roman just seems confused. “What kind of old habits?”
“You haven’t told Roman about your past rooftop incidents?”
“And you haven’t shut up,” he tells me. “Anyway, I wasn’t in danger of dying. Not on that part of the roof.”
I reach out to grab my glass of water and I swear I see Noah flinch a little as I move. He thinks I’m going to lunge at him, over the dining room table. For fuck’s sake, it’s like the guy thinks I’m a complete monster every time I’m near him.
Not entirely false, I suppose, but still.
He starts talking about his new bench press routine to Roman, in a very clear attempt to change the subject. As he and Roman start to talk about their gym goals, I slide out my phone and open my messages to Noah.
You can chill out, Daisy. It’s not like I’m going to put my hand on your neck across the dining table.
Noah’s phone buzzes on top of the table and he slides it over toward him. I glance at it and see that he’s added me in his phone as Stepbrother Psychotic.
I feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
He moves the phone screen so that it’s clearly out of Roman’s eyeshot. He quickly taps out a reply.
I don’t believe you.
It would turn you on too much if I did that, and I don’t know if you’re ready for that. Like I said, chill out.
And that’s how I know you’re deranged. Who says I’m not “chill,” by the way?
You act like you’re in trouble every time I walk into the room. Also, if you really fucked someone on top of the Onyx House roof, I’m proud of you.
Well, congratulations. Because I did it twice.
That’s hot as fuck.
I know it is.
I’m getting hard thinking about that.
??????? You made fun of me for the whole summer when I got busted by the cops with Bree on that roof before. You don’t make any sense.
I contain multitudes. Next time you piss me off, I’m taking you up on this roof and forcing you to come for me again.
Noah’s cheeks flare pink the moment he receives my message.
Fuck, he is so hot.
His skin looks like porcelain when he’s blushing, and his hair falls in messy dark slashes around his head. It’s making my cock stir just watching the way his tank top moves as he shuts off his phone screen and shoves it into his pocket.
He shoves back his chair and gets up to leave.
As he walks off, he doesn’t meet my eye.
So goddamn easy to fuck with you.
I’m fully hard now, and I’m really going to need to find a way to take care of that.
Luckily, Roman gets a phone call and heads off into the yard speaking softly in Russian, and I’m left by myself on the far end of the dining table.
Noah left one thing behind on the dining table.
His leather-bound planner notebook is still sitting there, open to a page that outlines this week’s schedule.
I glance over it.
His neat handwriting sticks out to me at the top of today’s entry.
Loading Dock, Colossus, 11 p.m.
Loading dock?
What the fuck would Noah be doing at a loading dock behind a dining hall, that late at night? Colossus is closed by then, and I definitely don’t think he’s planning some sort of society event back there.
This must have to do with Roman.
And there’s no shot it’s legal.
You’re making me very curious now, Noah. And I’m going to find out exactly what’s going down tonight.