2. Tate #3
I clench my fist hard, digging my fingertips into the bandaged part of my palm, welcoming the fresh throb of pain.
“Same difference. Do me a favor and leave me alone.”
I turn fast.
I take off fast through the gap between the roses at the side of the lawn, my shoes pushing into the gravel. I break into a run as I head down Red Row, the street that houses the three stupid fucking secret societies of Crimson College, and I just go.
My heart pounds so hard.
But I’ve missed having a reason to run like this.
On the football field, I often felt like a mountain lion hunting prey.
When I run in the gym, or around a track, it’s…
Nothing like this.
Just.
Fucking.
Run.
My shoes hit the pavement and air whips around me as my skin heats. I don’t know what having a bodyguard entails, and I hate every implication.
Is Roman going to fucking follow me around?
Is he following me back to my dorm right now?
I know the whole world thinks I’m young, but I’m not a goddamn baby. I grew up fast. I had to. I thought my brother trusted me to take care of myself, too.
I don’t bother checking behind me as I run. I just go faster and faster up toward the main Crimson campus, where the dorms are located, across the quad.
And I’ve never felt further from home in my life.
Outside my dorm, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket as I slow to a jog, then stop completely.
My lungs are burning in a good way, now. Opening up. I pull out my phone, glaring down at the screen. It hurts to even hold the fucking thing with the wounds on my hand.
Your Guardian Fucking Angel
I know you hate it, but I am here to help.
Tate
Yeah, well, you don’t know what it’s like to be me.
I watch three dots appear on the screen as Roman types.
Then they disappear.
And reappear again.
I catch my breath for a couple of minutes as he types, and I’m expecting a long text, but I only get a couple of sentences.
I know what it’s like to live in a family legacy you never chose. It’s like being trapped.
Cool story. Still don’t fucking get why you’re doing this.
Because I am good at it.
I let out a frustrated groan, seeing that he’s back to his short-ass statements. I sit down outside the dorm on a bench.
The night air is crisp, and my muscles are still twitching from running.
This campus is beautiful, without a doubt. The air smells like grass and the trees are so tall. I might even like it if I didn’t feel like I was wasting my fucking college years not being back at home.
I never knew that one day on the beach would be the first domino that fell, causing my life to end up here.
The beach trip.
One.
Fucking.
Mistake.
A blow job that got me expelled from my college football team in the city, because I couldn’t help myself.
I thought I was on a private beach vacation in Monaco when I decided to put my lips around the guy’s cock.
Turns out the beach wasn’t so private.
Photos of me with eight inches down my throat surfaced the next day online.
Everyone who knew me already knew I was bi, but the media didn’t know until that day. My football coach and team didn’t, either. The photos were graphic and terrible for public image, regardless of whether people cared what my sexuality was.
I was kicked off the team within a few weeks due to “performance.” But everyone knew that was bullshit.
My performance was excellent. It always had been.
Then, the death threats began.
And of course my brother overreacted. I just didn’t know Luke would go behind my back to get someone to tail me.
Tate
You really think I need a goddamn bodyguard?
Your Guardian Fucking Angel
No clue. Your brother thinks so, though.
He’s been overprotective of me forever. Then he went pro and started flying around the country as a quarterback, so he can’t worry about me as much.
He cares a lot about you, it seems.
I know.
I’m here now.
I exhale, shaking my head as I look out over the quad.
And I see Roman.
I spot him leaning against the trunk of a tree with the faint blue glow of his phone illuminating his face, far off on the other side of the lawn.
I reach up to flip him off, then I wave. He doesn’t wave back, but he holds my gaze, looking like some sort of stately bouncer outside a bar.
I wanted to get laid tonight too, by the way. You ruined that.
You ruined it for yourself.
Come bend me over? It’s not gay if it’s only one time, right, Roman?
You enjoy provoking me.
Yes. But I’d also actually let you fuck me. Obviously.
How is that obvious?
Because I’m a cock slut who had a really bad night, and I want someone to fuck the big, bad feelings out of me then hold me like a baby while I come. Works like a charm.
Are you always like this?
…Honest?
Talking so fucking much.
I’m just comfortable talking to people. Try it sometime. Also, if you put yourself in my phone as my guardian angel, what am I in your phone as?
Blondin.
Is that some kind of dessert?
”Blond” in Russian, Tate.
I wait a few more minutes, listening to the sound of the crickets and gazing at his figure before I finally shove my phone away and get up. I head into the dorm, heading upstairs.