7. Travis

SEVEN

"YOU'RE brAVE, SHOWING your face around here again," I said as I pulled the door open to my ex-roommate—and almost ex-friend—Preston. It'd been a little over a week since Mom and Dick had dropped their little bomb on Caleb and me at dinner, and it'd taken me about that long to not want to murder Preston every time I looked at him.

And don't even get me started on Archer—the true instigator of this whole mess. I couldn't believe I'd ever had a crush on Daddy FILTH—Father I'd like to Fuck. He was dead to me now.

"And why are you knocking?" I stepped aside for Preston to walk in. "You still have your key card."

He lifted his hand, and the card dangled from his fingers. "That's why I'm here. I thought it was time to return it, since all my things are out now."

"Gee, thanks for the reminder." I snatched it off him and walked inside.

"No problem," he said, chuckling. "I was also sent to make sure Caleb was still alive."

My feet skidded to a stop as we entered the living room, and I spun on my traitorous friend. "Sent by who?"

Preston's lips crooked up to one side and he shrugged. "Can't tell you that."

"You know, I don't remember you being such a?—"

"Shit stirrer? Agitator? General pain in the ass?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Let's just look at it as payback. For the mature way you went about handling mine and Archer's secret when we first got together."

My mouth fell open. "Are you kidding right now? I didn't tell a soul."

"Oh, I know, but you sure had fun giving me shit about it. So I'm giving you a little taste of your own medicine."

"By spying on me?"

"Exactly. I was the most obvious choice to find out how World War III was going. So the guys sent me in."

"Feel free to tell them you found Caleb's dismembered body in the bathroom." Then I muttered, "Ass."

"Aw, Trav. I'm gonna miss you."

"You're such a fucking liar."

"I'm not. Who else would give me hell the way you do?"

I crossed my arms and tried not to look too put out. "I guess I could always call and start your day off right."

Preston grinned and rounded the couch to wrap me in a bear hug that took me off guard. "You'd do the same, you know—move in with Archer if he asked—so really, you can't blame me."

I tried to wriggle out of his hold. "Stop making sense, you preppy shithead."

His laugh vibrated through me, and he gave one last squeeze before letting go. "I think this'll be a good thing for you. I know you've had your issues with Caleb, but?—"

"Don't say it," I warned.

"—you're roommates now. Fighting all the time will eventually get exhausting, and when it does, maybe you can find some common ground again."

I narrowed my eyes, wishing they would shoot actual daggers. "I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll get over it."

"And I'm not at all jealous you get to live with Daddy Filth."

Preston's lips quirked up on the side. "You are, but I get it. I pinch myself every day that he even looked in my direction."

"Ugh. You're too happy and ruining my bad mood. Go away."

"I will. As soon as I see proof of life."

"Proof of—" I rolled my eyes. "Gimme a break. If I'd gotten rid of Caleb's ass, I would've bragged about it already."

"And vice versa," Caleb said as he walked out of his room carrying a cardboard box. He set it on the kitchen island before leaning his hip against it. "Found a couple of your things in the back of the closet."

"Deep, deep in the closet, no doubt." Preston shot him a wink that only months ago he never would've done. I'd been the only one who knew his long-term relationship with Archer's daughter had only been for show, but now that he'd blasted himself out of the closet in an epic scandal, I guess the flirt inside his good-boy persona was finally making its way out. Or maybe it was my influence.

I liked to think it was the latter.

"See? He's alive," I said. "So you can go give your traitor spy report to whoever now."

Caleb lifted a brow at Preston. "You're here to spy? You Park Avenue Dicks are lame as hell, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Preston said. "After all, you're one of us again."

As a choked sound came out of Caleb, I struggled not to lunge at Preston. "He is not one of us. So stop rolling out the damn red carpet, Judas."

Preston held his hands up and went over to grab his box off the island. As he hefted it into his arms, he grinned at Caleb. "I'd say good luck, but I think you're gonna need more than that."

"Yeah, more like a miracle," he muttered.

"Trav? Walk me out?"

"Throw you out? Sure." I pulled the door open for Preston and then followed him out to the hall. Without his key card, he needed mine to call for the elevator, and even though I was annoyed at him, at least it got me away from my new roommate for a breather.

"I know you don't see it right now, but this is a good thing," Preston said.

"Stop saying that."

"It can't get any worse."

I snorted out a laugh. "Just remember, you did this."

"Pretty sure your parents did this."

"And you let them. The blood's on your hands too."

As the elevator door opened, he shuffled the box under one arm and squeezed my shoulder. "You two have some shit to work out, but then…"

I frowned. "But then what?"

A small, knowing smile curved Preston's lips, and he shrugged as he stepped into the elevator.

"Hello? But then what?" I shouted, but he only kept smiling as the doors closed. "Fucker."

I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair as I turned and trudged back into my condo—or prison cell, as it felt these days. I mean, what else could I call my living situation? When I wasn't in school or out with the guys, I was stuck back here with the cellmate that my wardens—parents—had chosen for me.

Don't get me wrong, it was more a luxurious white-collar prison than anything threatening, but that didn't make it any less stifling, and every time I turned around, Caleb was right there.

"Preston leave already?"

See? Always there."Why?" I looked over to where he'd just stepped out of his bedroom. "Were you planning to kiss him goodbye?"

Caleb rolled his eyes. "You're a real ass, you know that?"

"And?" I marched into the kitchen, hoping to put some much-needed distance between us. But just my luck, he followed.

"You going to be like this for the rest of our time at Astor?"

I yanked open the fridge and glared at him over the top of the door. "Only when you're around."

Caleb braced his hands on the counter. "I don't know why you're so pissed. I'm the one who had to move."

"So you tell me at every opportunity you get." I grabbed a Coke from the top shelf, then spotted a four-pack carton of hipster brew sitting on the other side and felt my blood start to boil. "How many times do I have to tell you? You are the bottom in this place, not me. Bottom two shelves in the fridge and bottom three shelves in the pantry." I yanked the carton out of the fridge, clanging the bottles together. "Keep your piss water on your shelf."

Caleb rounded the end of the counter and snatched the beer out of my hand. "Jesus, calm down, would you? I didn't have any room."

"Welcome to my world."

"Oh, because I take up so much space."

He had no idea.

Up until that fateful dinner with our parents, I'd been able to deal with the fact that he'd creep into my mind at the most inconvenient times. But now I was stuck with him invading my brain and home.

"Just move, would you."

Caleb let out a sigh and stepped aside, and as I brushed by, the familiar scent of his soap found me. He'd been using the same brand since we lived together, and as it weaved its hypnotic spell around me, I had a flash of myself in the shower, age sixteen, with that bar of soap and my cock in hand, imagining it was his.

"Travis?"

"What?"

"Preston said he was checking I was alive. The guys haven't asked before now? I figured they'd be giving you shit all week about this situation."

Yeah, so had I, but as if they knew better than to fuck with me right now, they'd left it alone. "They only bother with things that matter."

Caleb grabbed a beer and popped off the top. "And I don't, that's what you're saying."

"I didn't say that."

"You're pathetic." He flicked his bottle top into the trash. "There's so much more to life than the group of you."

"You only say that because you're no longer one of us."

"Right." He strolled out of the kitchen and stopped beside me. "'Cause you're so cool."

He continued into the living room and scooped up the remote, and I didn't even notice the way his jeans stretched tight across his ass. Not at all.

"Cooler than you."

"Uh huh, so much so you have to tell me." Caleb flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "Save it for someone who'll be impressed with your shit. I know better."

Sure he did. He'd been happy enough to be one of us until everything went to hell.

"Must be lonely up there on your high horse."

"Better than being surrounded by a bunch of sycophants."

I glared down at him, hoping to laser-beam him through the floor, and when that didn't work and I still hadn't answered, the smartass added, "That means someone who will kiss your ass to gain an advantage just in case?—"

"I know what it means."

Caleb smirked. "I couldn't be sure."

"You're in my spot."

He glanced around at all the open seats in the room. "Looks like you'll need a new one, then, doesn't it?"

Was it really my spot? No. Didn't stop me from stepping in front of him, knocking his feet off the coffee table, and blocking his view of the TV. "Move."

He brought his beer to his lips and kept staring straight ahead, like he could see through me. That gave me a split second to actually look at him without his eyes on me, and I took a mental snapshot of the tousled way his hair looked when he ripped off his slouchy beanie after a long day. The way his full lips wrapped around the opening of his beer.

God, this was gonna kill me, wasn't it?

Caleb looked up at me and smirked as he settled back into the cushions. "Nah."

That was the problem with staring. It made you forget what the hell you were saying in the first place. "Excuse me?"

"I said, nah. As in, I'm not moving, but thanks for asking."

Oh. Right. "I wasn't asking. I was telling you. Move."

Caleb faked a yawn and spread his arm out along the back of the couch, clearly intent on keeping his ass right where it was.

I could play this game. I stepped in between his spread thighs and leaned down over him, resting one hand on the cushion by his head and angling myself closer than I knew I should've. Surprise lit Caleb's eyes before he scooted up like he could get away from me.

"If you won't move, I could make you," I said, daring to get in his face. "Or maybe you'd rather I sit in your lap. I'm good either way."

"Don't even fucking think about it."

"Too late. And I'm oh so tempted." I dropped my knee on the couch between his thighs, and Caleb's hand shot out to push against my chest. Look at that. I'd already succeeded in him touching me.

"Knock it off, Travis."

"Why? No one's here. You don't have to put on an act if there's anything you're…curious about. Anything you wanna try." My gaze dropped to his lips. "Or taste."

"You think no one can possibly resist you, is that it?"

"No. I just don't think you can."

Caleb's brown eyes held mine, and just when I expected him to deny, deny, deny, he moved. He stood up, brushing against me and forcing me back.

With his face only inches from mine, it would've been so easy to close the distance between us. I might've considered it if I thought there was any chance he'd reciprocate, but even the tension between us wasn't enough to have me making the first move. Not now.

"You," Caleb said, his voice low as the alcohol on his breath swept across my lips, "are pathetic."

I blinked, stunned, as he sidestepped me and brought his beer back up to his mouth. All I could do in his wake was stare, and that wasn't like me at all. I just watched him walk toward his room, took in the fit of his ass in those jeans, and then realized…he was right. I was pathetic.

Pathetic for wanting someone I so obviously never could, or would, have.