Chapter 20
TWENTY
CHANCE
I check my pockets to make sure I have everything I need before I head downstairs.
Some of my frat brothers give me a look as if they want to ask where I’m going, but I don’t give them the chance as I dash out the door and walk down the street to where I parked my car.
My dad’s assistant had it shipped instead of driving it and it finally arrived.
I’m heading over to Warren’s, as promised, and nerves skitter all across my skin in anticipation. I’d rather the three of us get together again, but Warren said Thorne had some kind of class out of town, but he wouldn’t elaborate. He’ll be back in a few days, then we can all…
What? Hang out? Talk? Fuck?
Yes, yes, and FUCK YES!
I’m not sure what I expect to happen today, but it’ll be nice to talk to someone that doesn’t expect anything from me.
Warren doesn’t want me for my money, for my family name, or for my swimming skills.
He just…likes me. Thorne too. It’s a brand-new feeling that has butterflies swirling in my belly.
As I slide behind the wheel, my phone rings. I start up my car and answer through my Bluetooth. “Hey grandpa,” I say as I input the directions to Warren’s house.
My shoulder twinges as I pull on my seatbelt, but after rolling it a few times, the pain goes away and I put the car in drive.
“Chance,” he says in his gruff but warm voice. “I was calling to inform you that I’ve done as you asked and paid for that young man’s tuition. I’ve also decided to anonymously sponsor him if he decides he has Olympic dreams. He’s almost as good as you. Disciplined. Motivated. I like that.”
I let out a pent-up breath. Jett deserves a break.
He’s the hardest working man I know, and he deserves to just chill for a bit.
Working on his farm—over four hundred acres—as well as having other full-time jobs has to be tiring, not to mention squeezing in time to train.
Then keeping up grades as well as practice, he has to be exhausted.
As a junior, he has one more year of that grueling life to look forward to.
He shouldn’t have to worry about paying tuition with all of that on his plate.
Helping him out is the least I can do for the only person I can really call a friend.
“That’s great, Grandpa. Thank you. You used my money for his tuition, right?”
“Of course not,” he says, offended. “I have more than enough to help him out.”
Sometimes, I wonder how generosity skipped my father, but then I think about how he grew up—having money and toys and gifts thrown at him rather than quality time—and I get my answer. I love my grandfather for what he’s doing now, but the man needs to do this for his son too.
“I appreciate it.”
“Has your father asked for your trust information again?”
Last week, my dad told me he was having issues getting the people who manage my trust to add him as a beneficiary, and he wanted me to call and authorize it. I told him I wouldn’t, that it was my money, but he brushed me off like what I said didn’t matter.
I fill grandpa in on that and he grunts. “Don’t let him weasel that money away from you. He has enough of his own that he doesn’t need your money too. No matter what he says or does, you turn it down. You understand?”
“Yes, Grandpa. I promise.”
He makes an agreed noise. “Now with that business out of the way, have you thought about what you want to do when you graduate? The company—”
Sighing, I interrupt and say, “I want to make my own way, Grandpa. Nothing about the company.” I make the turn on Warren’s street and smile when I see his cute home. It’s a cookie-cutter, ranch-style house, but there are flowers in the front garden of all colors, and he even has a birdbath.
I don’t want to be in a bad mood thinking about my family’s company, so I rush Grandpa off the phone.
After rubbing my sweaty hands on my pants, I climb out of the car and head to the door. I pause for a moment, blow out a nervous breath, then ring the doorbell.
“Just a moment,” Warren shouts, then a few seconds later, he opens the door. A smile spreads across his face as a blush lights up his cheeks. “Chance. Hey. Come on in.”
I walk inside, and smile as I look around at his place. It’s bright and airy, the open concept giving the living room a much larger feel.
It’s homey and comfortable.
Stepping toward his back door, I grin. “You have a swimming pool.”
He chuckles behind me. “I do. I don’t use it as often as I should, but it’s heated and nice on cooler days. You can come by and use it…if you’d like,” he tacks on quickly.
Turning, I hold out my hand. “Can we sit outside and talk? I’d like to put my feet in the water.”
He takes my hand as he nods and we step outside. We quickly shuck off our socks and shoes, and I dip my feet in the water.
I hiss at the cold and glare playfully. “I thought you said it was heated.”
He barks a laugh. “Only when it’s cold out. We still have a few more weeks of this hot weather.”
I dip my feet back in, my body adjusting quickly to the temperature.
A few moments slip by before Warren asks, “Wanna tell me what was bothering you earlier?”
Exhaling roughly, I say, “Yeah. I just…I don’t want you to think differently of me.”
He scrunches his face in the most adorable way. “Why would I do that?”
I shrug. “It’s no secret that most of the students at Meadowbrook are wealthy.
” Warren nods. “I think I might be the wealthiest.” I peek up at him to see his expression.
I’m thankful that it doesn’t change, so I keep talking.
“As well as being a successful lawyer, my grandfather got into the real estate business when he was my age and built his company from the ground up.
Now he has his hands in more pots than I can count, which trickles down to me and my dad.
“My family name wields a lot of privilege, but I don’t want it. I hate it actually. Everyone thinks my father can snap his fingers and I can get what I want.”
“Okay,” Warren says leadingly.
“Today, Coach changed up the lineup for our relay team. Usually, I’m anchor and I’m good at it. But now, he made me starter, taking one of my frat brother’s positions.”
“Which brother?”
“Priest.”
Warren wrinkles his nose. “Ah, Mr. Bakersfield. I’ve always felt he wasn’t really your speed. He’s smart, yes, but he’s tried to bribe many a professor to skip exams or turn in assignments later than their due dates.”
“Yeah, he likes what wealth can do for him. I’ve known him for years, back when we were in private school together. Over those years, I’m not sure we were friends, just…acquaintances, I guess. But today, he accused me of getting my father to call Coach to get me the starting position.”
“But you wouldn’t do that,” Warren says vehemently.
I love that, even though he barely knows me, he knows I wouldn’t use my father when I’ve worked hard for everything I have.
Not to toot my own horn, but I’m the best swimmer on the team.
If I wanted any position, all I’d have to do is ask Coach and it would be mine.
But I like swimming anchor—it’s the position with the most pressure, but the most pay off.
Why would I swap that for the pressure of getting a large lead to ensure the whole team doesn’t have to work hard?
“No,” I answer with a small smile, “I wouldn’t. And I said as much, but I don’t think he believes me. On top of that, he’s saying that I’m doing it so I can be seen when I get to the Olympics.”
“Did you change your mind about going?”
“Absolutely not. I have no desire to be on the world stage. I know it’s a dream for a lot of people, but I’ve never wanted anything to do with it.
I just want to swim.” Warren’s eyes go soft.
“That, on top of my friend telling me he’s breaking his back to ensure he has a stable future while I have more money than I can spend in a lifetime… I just wasn’t having a good day.”
“I’m sorry,” he says solemnly.
“It’s okay. Some good came out of it. My grandfather is paying for Jett’s tuition, so he can relax while he’s at school. And if he wants to attend the trials, my grandpa will sponsor him.”
“That’s great news!” Warren’s happy tone seeps into me and I grin. Jett might not want handouts, but I’ll never tell him it was me, so he won’t think I feel sorry for him or something. It’s quite the opposite; I admire his hard work and think it’s admirable that he wants his future so badly.
The smile still etched on my face, I say, “It is.” Then it drops as the rest of my shambly life descends on me.
“My grandfather set aside a sizable amount of money in a trust that I got on my birthday, and my father is trying to get his hands on it. That’s the money I plan to use to make a clean break from him. But I don’t know how.”
Warren looks pensive. “What do you want to do? In a perfect world, if you could choose any path, what would you want it to look like?”
“I’d be a biomedical engineer,” I say without hesitation. “That’s what I’ve always wanted to do. When I was a kid, my grandfather took me to this lab he had a majority stake in. They made and manufactured prosthetic limbs. And I remember thinking…that’s something I want to do. Help people.”
“That’s why you’re taking my class,” Warren says.
“Yeah. It’ll help for grad school and give me the tools I need for a career in biotech.”
“Wow. I see you’re more than a pretty face,” Warren jokes, splashing me with a bit of water.
I laugh and wipe myself off. “You think I’m pretty?”
Warren rolls his eyes. “You know you are.”
I hum, looking from his eyes to his plump mouth. “You are too.”
He snorts and shakes his head, that blush so pretty it takes my breath away. “No. I’m just…average, at best.”
I reel back, studying his face to see if he’s serious. “No, Warren. You’re more than average. You’re fucking gorgeous. Thorne thinks so too.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Pulling out my phone, I shoot a quick text to our group chat.
Me: Do you think Warren is pretty?
I’m so glad Thorne answers quickly, so I can see that pretty flush on Warren’s face when he reads the same text I do.
Thorne: I think he’s beautiful.
“Do you think we’d both lie to you?”
“No,” he stammers, pressing his hand to his mouth briefly. “I just…I never…”
Cutting him off, I grip his chin and pull him closer to me, giving him a gentle kiss. “You are, Warren.” I kiss him again, feeling him melt against me. “So pretty.”
He lets out a groan, then deepens the kiss. I maneuver us until we’re lying on the side of the pool. Not the most comfortable spot, but I don’t care. And neither does Warren if the way he grips my back and ass is anything to go by.
His cock is hard against mine, the massive length brushing my front. I can’t believe someone as small as him is hung like a fucking horse.
A thought I’ve never had in my entire life enters my mind, but it feels right. I want to feel him inside me.
After being attracted to women all my life and being with one when I started having sex, it’s wild that I’m taking all this with ease, but it feels too good to question it.
Thrusting my fingers through his hair, I pull Warren closer, dipping my tongue into his mouth to taste him. He’s so soft, his belly pressing against my abs.
I lower one hand, tracing it down his torso, feeling his softness until I get to the drawstrings of his pants. Then I undo the knot and shove my hand inside, gripping his shaft.
Warren breaks the kiss, moaning as he peers up at me, different emotions flickering across his face. Desire, apprehension, arousal. I stroke him from base to tip, jerking him off the way I like.
“How’s that feel?” I ask, needing to know I’m doing it right, that I’m making him feel good.
“Fuck, so good. Come here.”
He grabs me by the back of the neck and brings me back to his mouth. At the same time, he uses his free hand to slide beneath my shorts to grab my cock. I curse into the kiss, fucking his hand.
We’re both fumbling, jacking each other off in this awkward position on this stone-cold concrete, but it feels so fucking good.
“Warren…I want to taste you…but I can’t stop,” I grunt, my body bucking in his grip.
“Next time,” he promises, panting against my mouth. “Oh fuck. Chance. I’m coming.”
He floods my hand with his seed, his cock jerking in my fist. His release pushes me over the edge and I tumble over, groaning into his mouth as my body stills over him.
Blowing out a sated breath, I roll to the side and lie on the back patio, looking up at the sky. It’s bright and clear, small wisps of clouds floating by.
“You okay?” he asks and I glance over at him. The red of his cheeks highlights his pretty freckles and if my closest hand wasn’t covered in spunk, I’d rub my fingers over the beautiful marks.
“I’m good. I should ask you. You were on the concrete.”
His deep laughter fills me with something light. “It’s all good. My shirt protected me.”
Sighing, I get comfortable—or as comfortable as I can get on the side of the pool on fucking cement. “I can’t wait until Thorne gets back.”
“Me either. Soon, though.”
“Yeah. Soon.”