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I wasn’t. My dick was so hard I knew if I had my hand on it I’d be coming. Why didn’t I have more hands?

  I pushed my finger deeper into him, and damn that was tight. The thought of it around my dick made me almost pass out from the way my blood pounded, throbbed right to the tip of my cock.

  Fucking my finger in and out just to the second knuckle made Ethan shake. Hell, he was vibrating, clutching at my hair, my ears, gasping for air through the wad of shirt in his mouth. So hot.

  The pleasant but firm voice made us both jump. “The university library will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please bring your selections to the checkout desk at this time.”

  Ethan’s hips jerked and he slammed into my throat. I couldn’t breathe but he was coming, hot and slick, almost tasteless that deep in me. His ass clamped, a vice locked on my finger.

  “Wyatt. God. Sorry. Oh fuck.” His words were louder, ragged. Like he had a dick in his throat.

  He eased back enough that I could work my tongue over him again, stroke my hand on his shaft, suck the last spurts while his hole pulsed around my knuckle. I lapped at him softly.

  The closing message repeated again. Ethan slid down the door until his knees were around his ears. I got my hand back.

  “So fucking hot.” He panted in my ear along with some uncoordinated kisses.

  Footsteps came toward the door. Keys jangled. Ethan tried to jump up, but I kept him still, pressing his knees down. I bit my lips and peered into his eyes. He pinched his own mouth shut, trying to calm his breathing, but even through his nose, his—and mine—seemed to reverberate off the walls.

  A hand tried the door handle, found it locked, jerked on the door. I held my breath.

  Keys jangled. Assuming the person on the other side was incredibly stupid and had no sense of smell, maybe I could pretend we were having a tutoring session on the floor if I threw those papers over Ethan’s naked groin. But with another tug on the door, the steps—and the jangling keys—retreated. I slumped over Ethan’s knees.

  “Give it a minute and then we’ll go.” I pushed up to whisper in his ear. My body thrummed, tight and hot with adrenaline, a sick dizzy lurch of it in my chest. This had been crazy. No, it had been suicidally stupid.

  “No.” Ethan pushed my shoulders down and straddled my thighs while he opened my jeans.

  “Ethan. We have to go. Don’t—” My body was on such high alert, I’d have sworn everything had retreated in terror. But when his hand closed around my dick, I found out I was seriously mistaken.

  One stroke and I was so wound up my balls tightened like they were ready to pop.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. “Jesus. Hurry.”

  I felt a laugh, then his warm mouth, wet and slick and taking me all the way in. Each time I kept thinking I couldn’t come any harder and then I did. This time, it took thirty seconds and the top of my skull felt like it came off in the explosion. I jerked and shot and shot, and Ethan kept sucking, like he’d keep going until my balls were dry for a month.

  He stretched out on me, bone and muscle pushing me against the hard floor, his sweaty neck against my face before he gave me a comey kiss. “I fucking love you.” The moment hung there, a second too long, dangerous in so many ways and then he was gone, pulling up his jeans, zipper purring in the dark. “Help me put these papers back,” he whispered.

  It was too late to say anything back. Though I did love him. Dazedly. More than I thought I could love anyone. And if that was just sex chemicals, then damn, keep’em coming.

  Chapter 7

  Easier said than done.

  The snow settled in to stay. I figured out why Ethan didn’t wear boots if he could help it. He walked like an emperor penguin in them, as if they made him forget he had ankles. It kept making me want to push him into a snowbank and kiss him. Well, that and keep him in sneakers before he fell down and broke something.

  Horizontal time together was impossible to find. If people weren’t hiding in their rooms from the weather, they were hunkered in to study for finals. I picked up extra tutoring hours and a lot of sexual frustration.

  As if that stress wasn’t enough, winter break loomed like a tractor-trailer on a blind mountain curve. Uncle Owen had invited me for Christmas, Ethan invited me for the week after and then I supposed it was back to my eight-by-six cell in the trailer in Van. Making those plans required more logistical engineering than the launch of the Mars rover. The first week of December was filled with eye strain, tension headaches and blue balls.

  Joining in the usual Fisher Dorm lunch on Wednesday felt like the first time I’d been able to get five minutes with Ethan, and even then I was still sharing him with his friends and their endless conversation about the holidays.

  “What do you want for Christmas?” Ethan dropped his napkin on his tray and looked at me.

  “World peace and a job as a Five Finger Death Punch roadie,” Connor said around a mouthful of burrito. Ethan must have kicked him under the table because Connor grunted, then grinned. “What? You weren’t asking me?”

  I had no freaking idea what to get Ethan. God, or his parents. Uncle Owen. Christine. My mom. I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know.” It seemed like there was no way I could convince him not to buy me something, to convince him that it would give me one less thing to freak out over.

  “One thing I didn’t think of coming to school here was that there was literally no place to buy anything except the campus bookstore. Even a car can only get you up to Erie’s sad little mall.”

  Of course, the one thing, the only thing, he’d had on his mind when he’d picked Coborn was to chase Blake.

  “Not true,” Connor said. “The bus line goes out to the Giant Eagle Supermarket. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a multipack of ramen noodles.”

  “Or Happy Hanukkah,” Whitney said. “Well, not the shrimp flavored kind.”

  “I see your Christmas and Hanukkah and raise you a Kwanzaa,” Makayla threw in. “But the issue of where to shop is still on the table. I suppose I could get everybody a Coborn Cougar Pride T-shirt from the bookstore. Maybe even pass the bill off as part of my book budget.”

  “Oh, there’s that drugstore across the road from Memorial Hall,” Whitney suggested.

  “That solves my what-to-get-Ethan-and-Wyatt problem. A giant pack of condoms.” Makayla sounded serious.

  My nuts shifted and my ass clenched. Ethan, please don’t correct her so I can still make eye contact with her.

  “Should I return the favor with a pack of batteries?” he said instead.

  “Ooo. Bitchy.” Makayla made a cat scratching hissing sound at him. “But accurate. But then some of us have ridiculously high standards. Oh crap.” Her eyes widened in apology. “That was not aimed at you, Wyatt. Or at Amy. Where is Amy?” she asked Connor.

  “Still doing LSAT prep. I wonder if she’ll even remember my name by the time she takes the exam.”

  I guess I should have had sympathy for Connor’s relationship problems. Maybe I would have if his girlfriend’s academic focus hadn’t made me realize how lucky we’d been that until now he’d spent the night at her apartment a couple times a week.

  My dick had definitely gotten used to that more favorable situation. And it didn’t help that the last time we’d found a few minutes to kiss, Ethan had breathed Can’t wait ’til you fuck me in my ear.

  A version of that was currently playing in high def on my brain screen—and not just when I jerked off in the shower.

  Twenty-seven days until I was supposed to be at his parents’ house and his double bed. But I was sure I’d be too nervous to get it up there.

  I started calculating what my gift budget would be with the extra tutoring hours. I really wanted to get something nice for Uncle Owen and Christine.

  When I tuned back in, they were all talking about wa
nting a car. Freshman couldn’t have one on campus, but from the conversation, it didn’t seem like that was the only thing holding them back.

  “Wyatt, please say you spent your adolescence restoring a Camaro or something,” Makayla said.

  Ethan brushed his leg against mine. I pressed back. He knew why I hadn’t done anything like that. Somehow I’d always assumed he’d told Makayla about it. Warmth spread from where our knees pressed together.

  “Sorry. I can change the oil and add transmission fluid, though, if any of you luck out.” I put a hand on his thigh and slowly finger spelled, shop class.

  He peered down, head tilted. I knew he’d been practicing the alphabet. He nodded after shop, then his lips started moving as he sounded out class. I tried not to laugh.

  “I don’t even want to know what you’re doing.” Makayla stood and collected her tray. “I’m off to the library to finish wasting my youth and vision on scanning microfilm for my Great Migration paper.”

  “Just think,” Ethan said, “when your vision goes, you won’t have to worry about what we’re doing.”

  Connor slapped Ethan’s shoulder. “Speaking of, thought I’d say I’m off to the computer lab.”

  “Okay then.” Ethan grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”

  When we got outside, he said, “You were really quiet.”

  I stared at him. He had met me, right?

  He rolled his eyes. “Quieter than usual. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Hmm.”

  He didn’t always challenge my brush-offs to that question, but he’d figured out that usually meant no, but I don’t feel like talking about it.

  At the turn off to the El, he started to pull me toward his dorm. “Maybe I can upgrade the fine to a fantastic.”

  I stood still. “You could, if I didn’t have a tutoring appointment.”

  “But Connor—”

  “I told you I had it. You said come to lunch.”

  Ethan pulled out his phone to check the time. “At the library or math lab?”

  “Math lab.” I squeezed his hand and started away. “Text later?”

  He grabbed my wrist and dragged me back. I still wasn’t comfortable with kissing where other people could see us, but he only whispered in my good ear, “That gives us fifteen minutes. C’mon.”

  We were both so backed up we barely got our jeans open. I ground into Ethan’s dick with us sprawled on his bed. Our tongues and breath kept pace with our hips, and I swore I wanted to drive my whole body into him.

  Ethan gasped, “Wait, wait,” and managed to get a washcloth between us.

  The extra friction was it for me. And him.

  “God.” He panted. “Miss you so much.”

  I rolled onto one side. “You see me every day.”

  “Not all of you.” He gave my softening dick a kiss.

  I pushed him off and grabbed the washcloth. Sadly, cleaning up would probably take longer than the sex.

  “So, uh, are we still on for you fucking me sometime?”

  For it not being a deal breaker, Ethan seemed pretty focused on it. Okay, I’d been too. I really wished we could do it and get it over with. Not that it was a bad thing—God, I hoped it was going to be a really good thing—but this waiting made it seem like a really big deal, and I was afraid Ethan was going to be disappointed. What did I know about topping?

  “Yeah.” I wanted to reassure him that I really meant that yeah. That there was more enthusiasm behind it than I could manage from my voice at the moment. I could have kissed him, but I wasn’t sure that wouldn’t start things again. It had been way too long. I climbed off the bed and checked my shirt and hoodie in the mirror over Ethan’s closet door. “Come over to Butler for dinner. Blake won’t come near you if you bring Makayla.” I’d be working, but at least we could catch a few minutes to talk.

  “Okay. I think he’s shot his last bullet, anyway.”

  I turned to look at him.

  His eyes went wide in panic. “Not like that. I swear. So done with him.”

  I hadn’t been thinking of that, but his reassurance wasn’t a bad thing. “Okay, but what did that mean?”

  He pushed up from the bed, stripping out of his jeans and boxers. He did it with his ass toward me, and as a distraction, it was a damned good one. “Him stalking my parents at the game on Thanksgiving. I told you.” Ethan kept his ass to me as he opened the drawer built in under his bed and got fresh boxers. “He honestly thought he could get them on his side, that I’d overreacted.”

  “By being with me.”

  “No.” He spun around. “Well, yeah, but mostly that I wouldn’t listen to him. That I’d throw away all our plans after coming here.” His eyes were wide and clear, but there was hurt in them all the same. A blink and a thick swallow followed.

  Of course, Ethan had never made all those plans with me. He didn’t talk to me about plans at all—well, not past winter break. I didn’t know if that was because of him trying not to be clingy or because he didn’t see us with a future, and to be honest, I was afraid to ask. I stood there, paralyzed, wondering how long I had before I’d be seeing that look in the mirror. Not Ethan’s sad puppy eyes, but my own, hollowed out, knowing that I didn’t have an Ethan in my life anymore. I’d still see him on campus, see his mouth and know I would never have another one of those hard, frantic kisses. Never have that smile aimed at me. Never hear him groan my name when he came. Yeah, for a minute I felt a little sorry for Blake.

  “Must have been stressful,” I managed. Was I supposed to be holding him? While he was upset about his ex? Why wasn’t there a fucking flow chart for this? And at the bottom, would it show me how I found out I was just Rebound Guy?

  “Yeah, well, it wasn’t fun. But it got better.” He grinned. “I got to come back here and get mauled in the ASC office.”

  “Yeah.” I flipped up my hoodie and tried not to hunch. “I still can’t believe we did that.” That I did that. Trying to get kicked out of school, Reese?

  “I hope I never forget. Fuck that was hot. You were hot.”

  From the way he said that, I knew I was supposed to come back with something boyfriend sexy, but all that I managed was, “Yeah.”

  Because it had been hot. No doubt about that. I shrugged on my jacket, picked up my gloves and ducked out the door before the very real doubts in my head could jump out of my mouth.

  Chapter 8

  Uncle Owen turned off his car and looked over at me.

  See Ethan here? he asked.

  I glanced around the parking lot of the Perkins in Breezewood, Pennsylvania, halfway between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia. No.

  Of course, it probably would have been smart of us to tell each other what car we’d be arriving in. I hadn’t thought of that. Stupid.

  We got out.

  From the turnpike, I’d seen lots of tall signs and billboards for restaurants and motels. That had made me think Breezewood was a pretty big city, but now I could see that the cluster of restaurants, motels and gas stations was basically it, just a place where two interstates met.

  It wasn’t that cold for the Monday after Christmas. Bright sun, not much wind and no sign of snow here. On campus it had melted during finals week, making the same people who had been bitching about it, like my emperor penguin boyfriend, piss and moan about a Green Christmas.

  After a few minutes, we leaned against the back of Uncle Owen’s Civic as we waited. We were early, so Ethan wasn’t late. Yet. I hoped for once he wouldn’t be. Uncle Owen worked Saturdays and I already felt bad about him using his day off to drive me. The quiet on the ride had been nice, but now I wished Christine was here. She had the day off, too, but she’d said she wouldn’t wish the backseat of Uncle Owen’s hatchback on anyone.

  Un
cle Owen signed, He knows you were in jail?

  There wasn’t a separate euphemistic sign like juvie. Signing didn’t have room for face-savers like that.

  Yes.

  Good. Secrets bad for relationships.

  I agreed. I told him before—well, not before anything but—boyfriend. I hoped that any redness in my cheeks he’d think was from the weather. It was weird and normal at the same time to talk to Uncle Owen about this. At least I hadn’t known him since I was a baby. That would have been way more awkward.

  A car pulled into the lot, a Ford crossover, dark blue. Ethan was driving. My heart rate sped up. Only part of that was nerves, because I’m totally fucked with my feelings for him. He pulled into a spot three cars away and climbed out.

  Uncle Owen nudged me and smiled. Cute.

  I pulled my sweatshirt up over my head. In American Sign Language, cute could also mean sweet in a dainty way. From the look in his eyes, I didn’t think Uncle Owen meant to imply anything feminine, but was teasing me—and Ethan. One thing my adorable, hot, dorky boyfriend was not was dainty.

  Ethan bounced to a stop a yard away from me. I wanted to touch him. I could see the hesitation in his face, wondering what to do, if I’d freak out if he hugged me. I wished I wouldn’t, but I was already flinching away.

  Ethan swallowed and turned to Uncle Owen and started signing. I knew Uncle Owen probably slowed his speed for me, but after visiting him for a week, watching Ethan get through My name is Ethan was like watching a glacier move.

  And being Ethan, he went right into, Nice to meet you, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year before he ran down.

  Very cute, Uncle Owen signed to me.

  I tried to get deeper inside my hoodie.

  We had one of those waitresses, one who decided that Uncle Owen and I were the freaks and Ethan our normal escort. She would only make eye contact with him. Not to say a big city was a perfect place, but I got why Uncle Owen preferred living in one. People were more used to different.

  I was proud of Ethan for sitting back and making the waitress take Uncle Owen’s order directly, though she clearly expected him to fill in instead of looking at what Uncle Owen pointed to.