22. Travis

TWENTY-TWO

THE SECOND I stepped out of the Sprinter the next morning, my eyes caught on an all-too-familiar figure walking away from the taxi he'd grabbed yet again.

"Catch you later," I called over my shoulder to the guys before jogging to catch up with Caleb. He was wearing one of his favorite grey slouchy beanies, and I snatched it off his head, grinning when he whirled around to shoot whoever'd done it a dirty look. When he saw it was me, he shook his head.

"Really?" He grabbed it out of my hands and put it back on to cover the wild mess of hair he preferred not having to deal with for school.

"I can't believe you're still taking a cab. I figured now that we were on such good terms you'd give the Sprinter a try."

"That's exactly why I won't." Caleb side-eyed me. "You don't think that'd look even more suspicious?"

"Not if you keep up that hot, growly side that likes to fight with me."

One of the underclassmen who made a habit of volunteering to get coffee for our group ran out in front of us to open one of Astor's main doors, and I ruffled his hair as we passed. "Lookin' good, Max."

"Thanks, Travis." He blushed from the top of his unusually pale head to the tips of his fingers.

When we were out of earshot, Caleb lifted a brow. "You can't help yourself, can you?"

"Not in general, but what do you mean specifically?"

"That you'd flirt with a tree if you thought it waved at you."

"Maybe, but that wasn't flirting. You should know."

Caleb quickly glanced behind us, like he was making sure no one we knew was around. "Can we put a pause on this? People will start to notice you're being nice. And by people, I mean your fellow pricks."

"If we're gonna talk about pricks, I'd really rather talk about yours. Who knew you had such a big, perfect?—"

He slapped a hand over my mouth. "Travis."

I licked his palm and laughed when he dropped his hand. "I thought you were calling me Master Cocksucker from now on?"

"Oh my God, you have to stop."

I forced a frown. "That's not what you said last night."

"Hey guys," a too-peppy-for-the-morning voice said behind us. Should've known it'd be JT, holding a coffee in each hand.

"Aw, you shouldn't have." I reached for one of the coffees, and he pulled his arm back.

"Don't worry, I didn't. Where's West?"

"What, you don't have a tracker on him yet?"

"My hands are too full to check it."

A smile crooked my lips. He was starting to grow a little backbone, and I had to say, I liked it.

JT blew on one of the steaming coffees and narrowed his eyes on me. "By the way, did I just see Caleb get out of a taxi? That wouldn't have anything to do with you, would it?"

I met Caleb's eyes and smirked. "Actually, I've offered to give him many, many rides, but he's always turned me down."

JT made a gagging sound. "Gross. He'd never take you up on that. Now I don't blame him for getting a taxi." He looked past us, and his face lit up when West walked inside the building. "See you later. And Travis? Lay off Caleb."

"I'd rather lie on him," I said under my breath for Caleb's benefit, and he dug his elbow into my ribs.

"Everyone is gonna think something's up if you don't go away." He held up his hand when I started to respond. "And don't make a sexual comment about that, either. I'll see you in class."

He turned on his heel to head in the direction of Livingston's lecture hall, and I fell in step beside him.

"Look at that, we're going to the same place."

Caleb said nothing to that, knowing there was nothing he could do to get rid of me now. Livingston had made sure of that, because for the next hour or so, Caleb would have his gorgeous ass planted in the seat beside mine whether he liked it or not.

"You could look a little less happy about it," he said.

"Why?" I teetered forward on my toes, my lips near his ear. "There's no one in here we know."

"Yes, but everyone knows you."

"So?"

Caleb stopped halfway down the stairs to our aisle and turned on me, and like this I was a head taller than him. The perfect position to kiss.

"Have you forgotten the way gossip follows you and the rest of your crowd? We hate each other?—"

"Hated. That's an important distinction to make. I'm not the type to fraternize with the enemy."

"Right, but no one else knows that." Caleb's eyes darted around the rapidly filling lecture hall. "We are still, supposedly, enemies. If you start being all…you with me, questions are going to be asked. Ones that will get back to?—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." And he wasn't wrong. One nosy onlooker or eager eavesdropper and all of Astor would be speculating over just how close I was to my brother?—

Sorry, stepbrother.

"Fine," I said, following Caleb into our row. "I won't talk to you the rest of the lecture."

Caleb tossed his bag to the floor and took his seat. "What are you going to do? Tape your mouth shut?"

I was about to tell him I could think of better ways to shut it, but I merely shrugged and took my seat.

Caleb snorted as I settled in beside him and pulled out my laptop and sketchbook. Then Livingston arrived and launched into what we'd be learning about today. About five minutes in and I zoned out, my eyes wandering instead to the tanned arm beside me, the jean-clad leg only inches from mine, and the fingers tapping on the end of the armrest.

Caleb seemed more restless than ever. But then again, he was usually concentrating on actively hating me, as opposed to today, when I liked to think he was thinking of actively fucking my?—

"Would you stop?" Caleb's voice pulled me from my little fantasy and back to the lecture hall. "I can't concentrate with you doing that."

I glanced down to see I was rubbing my leg up against the side of his. I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it.

I picked up my pen and leaned across to his desk, flipping open his notebook. Then I wrote across the page:

Sorry. Was thinking about sucking your dick and it just happened.

I shoved it back toward Caleb and when he saw what I'd written, he quickly slammed it shut.

"Are you crazy?"

I opened up my sketchbook and wrote:

No. But I'm bored. Play with me?

I turned the page in his direction, and Caleb's eyes widened.

Well, well, where did your mind just go? I thought.

One blowjob and your mind is in the gutter. What happened to being a good influence?

Caleb's eyes narrowed, and he grabbed his pen and scrawled under my question:

Fuck you.

I let my eyes travel down over him, making sure to linger on his mouth, neck, chest, and the zipper of jeans, then put pen to paper again.

Is that a pick YES or NO kind of answer, because it's a definite YES. Please, fuck me.

Caleb cleared his throat, and Professor Livingston immediately zeroed in on the two of us.

"Do you have something to add, Mr. Reeves?"

I waggled my brows at him, and Caleb looked like he wanted to kiss or throttle me. I had a feeling he was leaning more toward the latter, though, the killjoy.

"No," he said, turning to face Livingston. "I just had a bit of an…irritation. Sorry."

I bit down on my lip, trying not to laugh, as Livingston arched a bushy brow at Caleb, clearly not buying what he was selling. When he went back to what he'd been talking about Caleb, gave me a quit it look.

Hey, he was the one that didn't want me to talk. Not communicating at all would be asking the impossible.

I went back to writing him a note.

Aren't you curious what my piercing feels like?

When I pushed the pad his way, he did a double take. Then he quickly scribbled something back, and I smiled in satisfaction.

Shit. I am now.

As I wrote, Care to blow this, he rolled his eyes, then I added, joint?

I tapped my pen on the pad, hoping his answer would be yes, but fully expecting the one I got instead.

No. I'm your good influence, remember?

Care to influence me in the staff bathroom?

Just how many guys have you taken back there?

Today?

When he stared at me, I smirked.

None, but I hear it's private. Good acoustics.

Noted.

For later?

He shifted in his seat, his shoulder bumping up against mine, and it was almost pathetic how much I craved every little touch. How I'd do anything for his attention. But that was the power he'd always held over me, the reason I'd shut myself down the first time around.

Caleb Reeves was my biggest weakness, one I couldn't seem to resist, and when he turned his head, a crooked smile tugged at his lips and I felt myself fall even deeper under his spell.

And just when I thought he'd turn me down, he reached over and scrawled across the paper:

Yeah, come find me later.