Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
IAN
“I’m just saying, you could have milked the whole situation for some leeway,” I tell Callum, who’s hunched over his laptop. “Like, one of your profs had to force you to accept an extension.”
We’re at the tail-end of finals season, barely two weeks after Callum’s parents showed up and did what’s now being investigated as possible domestic terrorism.
It seems like some of the students overheard Regina’s rambling, and then reported ideological motivations to the police, so now the fucking FBI are involved.
As I said before, and as I’m still saying, what a shitshow. At least we’ve only had to send written statements through my lawyer at this point, given the extent to which Regina and Grant incriminated themselves. The actual trial is gonna come later. Much later.
Callum looks up at me, his eyes tired but no less pretty than they always are. “I didn’t come to college to get out of assignments. If anything, I want to prove a point.”
I can’t argue with that. I could try, but Callum is gonna do what he wants to do.
His therapist Anita called him into an urgent check-in, given that news of what went down spread to every corner of the WMU community within hours, but he insists he’s fine and working through things with her.
He hasn’t been acting any differently, at least from what I can tell, and believe me, I’m keeping my eyes peeled for any signs of distress.
The fact that his parents are in prison helps for sure.
My family’s lawyer says the chances of Callum ever seeing Regina and Grant again are slim to none.
There’s an emergency restraining order in place, with a permanent one all but guaranteed, and the elder Crosses are facing years for reckless conduct alone.
Still, Callum could have at least asked for an extension on his final papers.
Seeing him stressed and typing frantically, in between studying for exams and taking them, consumes me with a need to take care of him more than usual.
It isn’t like I can magic all of his finals away, and I have my own to worry about, so I’ve had to settle for ordering takeout for the two of us and giving him a ton of motivational back massages.
He slams his finger down on the trackpad and shuts his laptop, the sound echoing through the dining room and jolting my attention back to him. “Fucking finally,” he says triumphantly. “Now all I have is a French test in an hour, and then we’re free.”
“You’re free,” I correct. “I’ve been waiting for you to be done for ages.”
Taking a lighter course load in spring semester usually works out well for the playoffs, but handling a firearm on campus got me a quiet suspension from the team for the rest of the season.
As much as I love playing baseball, I don’t regret giving it up in favor of disarming my boyfriend’s delusional parents, especially since I’ll be back on the team next fall. At least I’m not trying to go pro.
Callum rises to his feet, stretching his arms up, which lifts the hem of his T-shirt. He steps over to wrap his arms around me, and even though it’s pushing an unusual eighty degrees outside, I still relish the warmth. “I’ll try to finish my exam as fast as I can.”
I huff out a sigh. “Didn’t you just say that you aren’t trying to get out of doing work?”
He squeezes me tighter. “Hey, I only need fifty percent to get an A-minus. I’m good.”
“Oh, you actually did the math.” I scoff. “Look who’s learning the ways of college.”
“Blame yourself. You’re the bad influence I always needed.”
And before I can agree, Callum cuts me off with a gentle, brain-melting kiss.
“Mm, I’d rather French kiss than take my French test,” he says. “Say the word, and I’ll skip the final.”
I don’t have a chance to say any words, much less talk some sense into him, because the fucker shoves his tongue into my mouth and grabs the back of my neck, sending a delicious spiral of energy down south.
Jesus. He knows that drives me up the damn wall.
“Babe, you can’t do that,” I protest, breaking away.
“Why not?” A mischievous smile plays across his lips. “I know you want me to.”
Callum almost, almost, gets me to agree by slipping his fingers under my shirt and giving my back a disarming squeeze, but he hasn’t figured out how to dissolve all of my willpower, at least not yet.
“You’re evil”—I pull away and give his ass a firm swat—“and you’re a fucking menace. Go take your exam.”
He just bats his luscious lashes at me and waves goodbye as he heads off.
Whoever made Callum’s French final two hours long obviously wasn’t thinking about their students’ lonely, long-suffering significant others.
Checking my phone isn’t going to make time pass any faster, so with great reluctance, I keep myself focused on packing our bags for the lake house.
The two of us won’t need much, and as much as I want to be a little shit and pack one T-shirt and a pair of swim trunks for Callum to wear, and nothing else, that’d be mean.
I do what’s honorable and place the rest of his clothes into a duffel bag.
Including the five-inch inseam swim trunks I got for him. What can I say? I know what I like—giving things to Callum, and checking him out.
My god, I want it to be tomorrow already. Putting me and Callum together in a secluded house for four months with no responsibilities is my idea of a good time, and I’m not known for being too patient.
From the bedroom, I hear the lock click, and my heart jumps into my throat.
Is he back already?
I dart into the living room, ready to launch myself at Callum, and barely stop myself from lunging when I realize that it’s Nick.
“You thought I was Callum, didn’t you?” he asks, and heat rises up my neck.
“How’d you guess?”
“Please.” Nick scoffs. “You have a dreamy look in your eyes, and I’d be a little concerned if you were making it for me.”
“Aww, it could be for you,” I tease. “Callum and I might want a third.” For effect, I drag my fingers along his exposed forearm, and he swats my hand away.
“Man, fuck off,” he says with a grin. “There’s no way you’d share, anyway.”
“You aren’t wrong.” I rest my shoulder against the wall. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much, just thought I’d stop by before warmups later.” He slips his shoes off. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Nah. I’m just packing for the lake house.” Heading for the couch, I notice Nick isn’t following me, and I turn back. “You okay?”
He jerks his head up, blinking as he walks over. “Yeah, yeah. I, uh, forgot you’re leaving tomorrow.”
I sink into the couch and motion for Nick to sit next to me, and he lets out a huge sigh as he does, his tall body creating an indent in the center and almost making me lose my balance.
“It sounds like someone is gonna miss me.” I shake him by the shoulder, and he chuckles weakly.
“I kind of already do. Games aren’t the same, and… Damn, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Oh, shit. I snap to attention and let sincerity take over. Nick isn’t wrong—it’s been weeks since the two of us properly hung out, and I don’t want to be that friend who disappears after getting into a relationship.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, bro. I—”
“It’s not you. Don’t think that.” His eyes widen. “You and Callum are dealing with the legal shit, and I’m sure finals are kicking all of our asses. I’ll be fine.”
He’ll be fine? I tilt my head, prompting him to continue.
“I’m kinda lonely,” he blurts out. “But that’s not your problem—”
The fuck it isn’t. “You’re my buddy. It kind of is.” I give Nick a hug, one of the too-strong, bro-y kinds, and he chuckles into my chest. “You still have an open invite to my family’s lake house, just saying.”
“I’d be intruding on you and Callum, no?”
I punch his arm gently. “Dude, no. Never. You’re always welcome.”
He shrugs. “It’s whatever. I’m gonna be here for most of the summer coaching high schoolers at baseball camp anyway.”
It seems the guys I’m close to have some kind of aversion to “imposing” on me or whatever. At least I don’t mind being the one to break through that.
“That camp won’t last for the whole summer, and I’ll want to see you. Callum and I both will,” I insist. “Please come over sometime. I’ll drive back here and pick you up if I have to.”
He presses his lips into a soft, lopsided smile. “You’re the best, man. I mean it.” Nick bumps his shoulder against mine, and I’m about to reply with some sappy line of my own when he smacks his hands on his knees. “Right, that’s enough moping for me. Let’s do something else.”
Okay, casual Nick is back. I point my thumb at the TV and reach down to turn my console on. “For sure. Do you want to beat each other up on a screen?”
He nods, I toss him a controller, and then I proceed to pound a virtual version of Nick into a pixelated pulp, over and over again.
Callum comes back right as I deliver a devastating blow to end our latest game, and I leap up.
“How’re you feeling?” I ask, running to the door and slinging my arms around his waist.
“Relieved more than anything.” He releases a breathy laugh, walking me backward through the entryway and pressing his forehead to mine. “And not to be vulgar or anything, but I could really, really use a b…rewski?” His voice goes up an octave as soon as he spots Nick on the couch.
“Did you join a frat on the way back or something?” I ask as Nick and Callum give each other a wave. “Since when do you say brewski?”
Callum frowns at me, his face red, and drops his lips to my ear. “Since a second ago, when I was about to fucking ask you for a blowjob right in front of Nick.”
“Am I interrupting your private time?” Nick calls out.
“No,” Callum says.
I rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s a good, patient boy.”
That earns me an elbow to the ribs. “Fuck off,” mutters the good, patient boy.
We both laugh and pad over to the couch, and I deposit Callum next to Nick.
“Let me get you that beer,” I offer, handing my controller to my still-blushing boyfriend. “Chill for a bit.”
“Have you played this before?” Nick asks, and he pumps his fist, ready to win, when Callum shakes his head.
I stick around and watch Nick get absolutely smoked. Again. He smacks a hand to his forehead, groaning when the final score pops up on the screen, sealing his latest loss.
“Am I, like, totally inept or something?” he muses.
“Maybe. Or I’m just awesome,” Callum says absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of the TV.
“No way. We gotta swap controllers,” Nick sputters. “Ian definitely gave me a janky one.”
Snickering, I leave my best friend to bicker with my boyfriend, and head for the kitchen to get the beer I promised Callum five minutes ago.
Leaning against the counter, I take a peek back into the living room to see Nick and Callum gaming and shooting the shit.
My heart warms, and satisfaction washes over me.
Summer’s here, my responsibilities have all but vanished, and the next four months are gonna hit different.