7. Roman
Roman
Back at Onyx House, my frustration rises to a fever pitch with Tate.
After getting back, I head upstairs and rinse off in the shower. When I head back down, I find Tate in the front room with Hunter, Rayne, and Ollie, and all of the guys are doubled over laughing at some story Tate is telling them.
He’s astonishingly quick to make friends, and far too quick to pretend his life isn’t important.
When he found out the truth about me, he handled it well.
Better than expected, honestly.
But now he’s doing that thing again where he looks like a ray of sunshine, even though I know he’s fucking freaking out deep inside.
I need to talk to him.
One on one.
But I won’t pull him away from this impromptu social gathering he seems so fond of, either.
The guys wave at me as I grab my heavy Advanced Physio textbook from the pile in the corner, and I take one of the armchairs by the fire, cracking open the book.
I don’t know if I intend to actually study or not, but it doesn’t work.
For another two hours, I idly listen as Hunter, Rayne, and Ollie all grill Tate with curious questions about his life.
He talks about New York, about his brother, about his childhood growing up with a famous pro football player as a father.
I keep my head tucked down, pretending to read.
But when Tate describes the sexual awakening he had when he first started sleeping with men instead of just women, my cock responds like a fucking traitor under my pants.
He’s filterless, as usual.
Telling the guys how badly he needs to get fucked, and making them laugh.
And I’ve never wanted to punish him with my cock more.
I don’t want him to go get fucked by some random stranger.
It’s not safe.
I want to stride across the room, unzip, and shut him up by sliding every inch of myself past his lips.
Is that what you crave so badly, Tate?
Provoking me until I give it to you?
Finally, Niko arrives home, and the other guys join him to go get dinner outside of the house.
After two long hours, it’s just me and him in the front room.
My phone lights up on the armrest of my chair, and I glance over to see that it’s from Tate.
“Why message me, when we are in the same room?” I ask.
“Just read it.”
Blondin
If I get up to leave, are you going to worry I’m fleeing?
I set down my phone.
“No. Just go.”
He gets up and takes off down the hall, and a moment later I close my textbook and follow after him.
It turns out he was only going to the kitchen.
I catch a whiff of his scent the moment I step inside, and like an untamed animal, my cock thickens again as I step near him.
He has my Cognac bottle in his hand, tipping it back against his lips, and I watch the smooth curve of his neck while he drinks my liquor.
Fuck.
I should have fed the beast while I had the chance.
Upstairs.
I could have taken care of this in the shower earlier and made this stupid fucking persistent hard-on go away, but instead I came downstairs and spent hours in that room with him.
“You said you wouldn’t follow me,” Tate says.
“I never, ever said anything close to that.”
“Fine. But you said I could leave.”
“You can, anytime you want. But I will be with you.”
He drinks another shot of my Cognac, straight from the goddamn bottle, then puts it down.
I lift an eyebrow at him as I reach for the dark brown bottle on the kitchen countertop, giving him a look.
“See? Everyone commits crimes.”
Tate watches me take a swig from the bottle now, and his eyes glance over my neck, my Adam’s apple as I swallow, then trail down lower to look at my chest.
Does he have to make it so fucking obvious he wants me?
Hates me, yes.
But wants me, all the same.
Because anyone who learns the truth about me knows that I’m only a good person on the outside, not the inside. I’m sure Tate thinks that now, too.
“You think I’m committing a crime?” he asks.
“You’re not allowed to drink. Not even twenty-one yet,” I tell him. “And look at you, with my Cognac on your tongue.”
“Fuck off,” he mutters.
I see a pink flush creep along his neck.
I didn’t bother putting on a shirt after I rinsed off upstairs in the shower and tossed on a pair of dark denim pants. He’s still giving me the same faraway look he has been all night.
And now it’s even more fucking inconvenient that his eyes are making me hard again, because now I’m at home, standing tall above him, and it’s so easy to picture now.
Bending him over the countertop, pushing my cock between his cheeks, forcing him open and fucking him so hard I’ll finally get it out of my goddamn mind.
Go away.
Burn it all to the ground.
My life, my past, and all of the things that separate me from the rest of the world.
I’ll start over and be someone else.
I should have lied to him in the car.
He didn’t need to know what my family is involved in, but he looked so scared I couldn’t bring myself to lie.
“Come outside with me,” I tell him, already taking off toward the doors to the backyard. “I need to give you your rules.”
“What?” he says behind me.
I step out into the evening air.
The evening air is crisp, and the backyard of Onyx House is currently empty, other than us.
“I built the fire pit in the lawn here two years ago,” I tell him. “One of my favorite places in the house.”
I laid slate stone in a wide circle with a simple ring at the center that I keep stocked with firewood and kindling. Chairs and benches surround it, and Wes and Sev recently cut two old tree stumps to use as more seating around the pit.
I lean over and start to arrange the wood in the pit, getting ready to light the fire.
“Sit,” I tell him as he stands there watching me. “I can feel your eyes on every move I make.”
“Now you know how I feel,” he murmurs.
I get the fire started, and it catches slowly at first, then launches into orange flame.
I wait for Tate to take a seat first, and when he chooses one of the swinging benches, I step over and sit directly next to him.
His skin looks golden in the light of the fire, and I look over the smattering of freckles on his arm.
“Why are we out here?” he finally asks.
“Because it’s beautiful outside. And I told you, I’m going to give you your rules.”
He stares at me. “Yeah. And what the fuck does that mean?”
I reach over and grab the long, metal iron poker and rearrange a bit of the kindling under the flames. “You’re under my protection. You need to remain safe. I can’t be with you at all times, so when I’m not there, you need to follow my rules.”
I turn back to him. His cheekbones are prominent, illuminated from one side.
“Has anyone ever told you you have a giant fucking ego?” he says.
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Many times.”
“What rules do you think you’re going to get me to follow?”
“You will follow them. First rule. I need to know things that happen.”
“So the first rule is…”
“Call me if you ever see anything,” I tell him. “If you’re unsure if you’re being followed. If you see a strange man who looks at you wrong. If you get a note, a message, any threat. I don’t care if it’s a rock or a pebble or a fucking severed head. Do you understand, Tate?”
I’m surprised when he doesn’t bite back.
“I understand,” he says, nodding. “Shit. I forgot about the rock, after seeing two criminals get fucking killed.”
“I didn’t forget. We will look at it later. So you agree to rule 1?”
“I do. But would you do some heinous mafia shit to me if I didn't agree?”
I twist my mouth. “Do not say that word. That’s the second rule… I just decided it.”
He exhales. “Fine. What else does my brother pay you to spy on? Does he know you’re…”
He really hates it when he’s reminded that his brother paid me for this.
I need to set the record straight on that, too.
“Tate. Listen closely.”
“I’m listening.”
I lift my brow. “If you came to this school and I found out you had threats against you, I would always choose to protect you. No matter who you were. Even if I wasn’t told to, and even if there was no pay.”
He gives me a sad smile, then looks out at the fire. “I don’t know if I believe that.”
“You should.”
“Okay. Thanks for saying that.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I wish I did.”
I set down the iron poker with a loud clatter on the stone.
“I don’t think you know how many people I have already kept safe on this campus, and the larger amount I’ve kept safe in my family. I am taking Luke’s payment because my idiot cousin recently lost two million dollars of our money, and I need to pay it back. But I would do this for nothing.”
“Why? You don’t know me. You have no reason to care—”
“Because you are an innocent person, and a good person,” I say forcefully. “End of story. There are no other details I need. Innocent people do not deserve to be threatened. Ever.”
The words spill out of me too quickly, and I’m more angry than I realized.
But I despise it.
I hate that I have to explain to a good person why he’s worth protecting, in a world where bad people never even stop for a moment to question themselves.
Tate is quiet for a moment.
It’s the first time I’ve seen that sad look in his eyes in person.
I caught it in some of the photos of him, and now it’s right there in front of me.
The sounds of crackling wood fill the air between us.
He reaches down to pick up a thin fallen tree branch from the ground, ripping off the leaves until it’s stripped bare. He leans over and puts the tip of it into the flames, letting it catch fire.
When he pulls it back it looks like a little torch, then he blows it out quickly, a trail of smoke curving around him into the air.
“Okay,” he finally tells me. “I believe you.”
“Was that so difficult?”
“Yes,” he admits, and even when he smiles at me, it’s still tinged with pain.
“I’ve been the shadow in my family for my entire life.
I don’t think I’ve ever contemplated if I’m a good person or not.
I’m just a Landrey. Me play football. Me work out.
Me no cause trouble… or if I do, there are bad consequences. ”
“You act like you’re some meat-head, but you’re one of the smartest people I’ve talked to in a long time.”
“How do you know?”