Chapter 11

ELEVEN

My dad once told me that college was all about experiencing new things.

This was probably not what he'd meant.

Although given his man crush on Idris Elba, maybe it was.

I was on top of Briar, my weight on my hands and knees, stuck between his accusing, challenging stare and his dick. Like, I was going to have to deal with something, and those were my two choices. And I wished that he hadn't turned this moment into a kind of a test and had just given me a minute to get here at my own pace, because what I really wanted was to make Briar feel as good as he'd made me feel, but somehow now I was stuck in a standoff with his attitude. And, again, his dick. And I was absolutely going to blow him—that had always been the plan—but it would have been nice if we'd been kissing right now instead of him eyeballing me like he was about to ask me if I wanted to go outside and fight.

I shuffled down the bed with zero grace, slotting into the space where Briar had his thighs spread wide. I didn't dare look up and meet his gaze, in case he said something snarky again. I leaned down and licked the head of his dick before I could overthink it and relished the small, shocked squeak he made, as though he'd really expected I wouldn't do it and that I'd chicken out at the last moment instead. Briar's cock tasted of skin and salt and sweat, and I was surprised how much I liked it.

But then, I'd always preferred salty over sweet. Maybe that was why Briar appealed to me. And, as I licked the head of his cock a second time, I discovered another thing I really liked when he made that squeaking noise again—proving Briar wrong about me.

I couldn't pretend I knew exactly what I was doing. I was mostly working on instinct and on what I liked, but it wasn't as though dicks were complicated, right? Like, you just started sucking and eventually something would happen. But what surprised me was how much I was enjoying it, from the moment I closed my lips around the head of his cock and tried to see how much I could take in my mouth. I'd thought I was blowing Briar to satisfy my curiosity and because I wanted to make him feel good. But instead, the taste of his cock, the slide of it between my lips, and the way Briar made those noises and his legs twitched... it started a low burn of arousal in my gut that built higher and higher until my dick was valiantly trying to stage a comeback. Giving head was hot, and I wasn't even that great at it yet.

"Casey!" Briar didn't sound like he was arguing now. He was begging, which was fucking music. One of his hands found my hair and tugged.

I pulled back for long enough to get a glimpse of his wide-eyed face and then leaned back in to pay some attention to his balls. They were already tightly drawn up, like he was going to blow any second now. I wondered if that was because of my sloppy blow job, or if he'd been like that since he'd had my dick in his mouth. I licked his balls, just because I could, and Briar shuddered and squirmed and just about ripped a handful of hair from my scalp.

"Casey!" he whined and almost jackknifed off the mattress when I went back to his cock. I got my hand around it to hold it at the right angle. The neatly trimmed hair at the base rasped against my skin. I leaned in, and this time when I got my lips around his cock, I sucked as hard as I could. "Casey!"

I grinned around my mouthful of dick. Maybe I was better at this than I'd thought. Briar's cock pulsed, and my mouth flooded with the salty tang of precum.

"Casey, I'm gonna come!" Briar yanked my hair again in clear warning.

I considered swallowing for about a second before thinking better of it. I wasn't a pro yet; I was still in the Little League of blow jobs, even though I'd had a great first game. So I gave Briar's dick one last lick before pulling off—just in time for warm streaks of cum to hit my cheeks and chin. My mouth fell open in shock—and a spurt of cum landed in there too.

I lurched upright. "Holy shit!"

"Casey, I..." Briar stared at me, his chest heaving, and then he started laughing. "I didn't mean to do that, I swear!"

"I—" I blinked down at him and felt my own mouth curving up into a grin. I wasn't even mad. If anything, I was flattered—flattered and sticky. I climbed off him. "I have wet wipes."

Briar sat up, shuffling backward. "Casey?"

"What?"

"Come here." He reached out and caught me. "You don't need wet wipes."

"I'm pretty sure that?—"

He pulled me back onto the bed and swallowed the rest of my words with a kiss.

And this, this was what I'd wanted earlier—Briar kissing me like he craved it—like he craved me—and I melted into it. Then Briar laughed softly and pushed me onto my back. He lay against me, on his side, with one arm flung over my chest, and I turned my head hoping for another kiss.

I didn't get one, not exactly. Instead, Briar pressed his mouth to my cheek and licked. It took me a second for the penny to drop—he was licking up his cum. And it should have felt dirty and filthy in the best possible ways, but, weirdly, it was too sweet for that. This was a tender gesture, not a teasing one. I liked it.

His tongue rasped against my cheek as he licked his way across my face, leaving damp trails on my skin, and I rethought my earlier assessment that this was too sweet to be filthy, because it turned out to be a case of "both is good."

Briar exhaled softly, his breath warm against my cheek, and then rolled away and rose to his feet.

"You're not leaving?" I asked, my heart racing and my stomach lurching. It was what Briar always did, but I'd hate it if it happened tonight. After our date and after everything else, when I'd hoped we were getting closer.

He shot me a look and then smiled as color crept up his cheeks. "I have to go to the bathroom, but I'm coming back."

"Good," I said. "I'd like that."

He turned away, bending down to pick up his skinny jeans. Then he discarded them and reached for a pair of my jeans instead, which was fair. They'd be a lot easier to get on than his. He stepped into them and then grabbed my shirt as well. He was way too skinny to wear my clothes, but it looked cute on him because I knew they were mine.

He padded out of the room barefoot, leaving the door ajar.

Holy shit.

I stared at the ceiling and tried to recenter myself after Briar had thrown my universe off tilt in the best possible way. I was falling hard for him, and I wished I knew if he was feeling the same way for me. Briar played his cards very close to his chest, but I thought tonight was a turning point. He was staying over. That had to mean something, right?

Light flashed as a phone buzzed on the floor. I rolled over onto my side and reached down for it. I didn't know if it was mine or Briar's. Briar's, probably. He must have dislodged it from his jeans when he'd dropped them again. I didn't want him to step on it when he got back. My fingertips found it at last, and I grabbed it, intending to put it on my bedside table.

The screen lit up, displaying the preview screen, and I looked without meaning to.

The text was from someone called Alan.

Hey. It's been a while, are you free for dinner this week?

My heart squeezed in my chest.

Who the fuck was Alan?

I put the phone back on the floor, my heart still racing.

Moments later, Briar slipped back inside the room and began to undress.

"Hey," I said. "I think you got a text?"

"Huh." Briar picked up his phone, his face illuminated by the screen as he checked it. Then he slid the phone into the pocket of his skinny jeans and crawled back into bed with me, tugging the comforter up over both of us.

It felt good, cuddling up with him. Too good to be true.

"Nothing important?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

"No." Briar rested his head on my chest. "Just Charlie wanting my English notes."

And then he dozed off, the hollow feeling in my gut growing larger and larger as I lay there and wondered what he was hiding.

When I wokethe next morning, Briar was still asleep next to me, his dark hair peeking out from under the comforter. It looked like a small furry animal, and I itched to pet it, but I couldn't be certain that Briar wouldn't roll over and snap at my fingers—also like a small furry animal. Plus, my brain chose that second to remind me that the last words Briar had said to me before he'd fallen asleep had been a lie.

Thanks, brain. You're an asshole.

I slipped out of bed and pulled on my jeans, pushing the thought aside. Whatever Briar's deal was, I'd worry about it later. For now, I'd been brought up to treat my dates right, and the polite thing to do after someone stayed over was bring them breakfast.

It was later than I usually woke up. The day was overcast, so maybe that was why I'd slept in. The house was still pretty quiet as I headed down the stairs, but I could hear the TV playing in one of the lounges and faint voices from the kitchen. I didn't run into anyone as I let myself out of the house.

Fraternity Row at this hour on a Monday morning was this weird twilight zone space, where it seemed like it should have been busy, but anyone who had classes was at them, and everyone else was still waking up, so it was quiet.

It only took ten minutes to get to Marty's favorite donut place, Hole Foods, and I was lucky enough to snag a parking space right out front. I went inside and was surprised as hell to see Charlie behind the counter, wearing a pink hat that clashed horribly with his red hair and a striped apron that made him look like a lollipop.

"Hey, Casey," he said, straightening up and looking a little self-conscious. "What can I get you?"

"I didn't know you worked here."

"It's only my second shift," he said. "Marty got me the job. He's pretty tight with the owner."

Probably because he spent a fortune here every opportunity he got. "I thought you got that accommodation grant."

"Oh, yeah." Charlie beamed. "It's great. Like, amazing. But my folks are kind of struggling a bit at the moment, so if I pick up a few shifts here a week, I don't need to ask them for money for clothes and stuff, you know?" He gestured at the menu board. "So, what can I get you?"

"Two maple bacon, two Boston cream, and two vanilla glaze." Briar had to like at least one of those, right?

Charlie put the assortment into a box for me and only hesitated a moment before adding two more. "Salted caramel," he said, grinning at me. "Briar's favorite."

Of course Charlie knew that Briar hadn't come home last night.

"Thanks, man." I paid and tipped him a twenty—partly for the inside info and partly because I appreciated the fact he hadn't given me shit about my first date with a guy. I figured that the other brothers wouldn't be so restrained. There would definitely be questions about going from girls to a guy from the straight bros... and the not-so-straight ones.

Charlie beamed when I put the twenty in the tip jar, and I grabbed the box of donuts and headed back to campus. On my way, I thought about what he'd said. About his parents struggling. It must have been rough. That led to me wondering about Briar's nonexistent relationship with his family. Who was paying for his college? I knew he wasn't on any academic scholarships—that would have come up on his application for Alpha Tau back in rush week—so was he on student loans or something? Had he used them to pay for his fraternity fees? Shit, maybe he needed a job as well because student loans were brutal.

And then I remembered that text, and my brain made an ugly leap.

Just, Briar was superhot, right? Like, I would pay hundreds of dollars per month on his OnlyFans if he had one. Hell, in his hot-as-fuck shoes with killer heels, I'd probably set one up myself.

But that was dumb. That wasn't something broke college students did for real, was it? OnlyFans and cam shows and sugar daddies and shit like that?

But that text was still circling around in my head, and I couldn't help thinking that maybe Briar had a job, and maybe that job was Alan.

No, that was crazy.

My dumb self had taken one plus one and had somehow come up with five.

Right?

Right.

There was nothing weird going on with Briar at all.

When I got backto my room, Briar had gone. He'd even pulled the comforter up over the bed before he'd left, hiding the rumpled sheets. Holding my box of donuts, I headed upstairs.

When I knocked on the door of Briar's room, there was no reply, but as I stood there, a hand landed on my shoulder. I spun around to find Briar standing behind me, his hair damp and a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Hey," I said.

He stared at me, his expression guarded. I realized too late that leaving him to wake up alone probably hadn't been my smartest move. Hell, he probably thought I'd ditched him.

I cleared my throat. "I went and got us breakfast. I probably should have let you know."

He relaxed the barest fraction. "Oh, you think?"

There was still a barb in his tone, but I was starting to understand there was no avoiding those by groveling. So instead of trying to, I shrugged and said, "Sorry. Next time I'll risk waking you up."

His eyebrows shot up. "Oh, you'll risk it? What exactly do you think happens when I wake up, Casey?"

"I don't know. But you're such a prickly little shit the rest of the time, I figured you'd probably bite me or something." I could see him fighting back a smile, so I figured I was at least part way to unfucking my fuckup. I held out the box. "Donuts? I got you salted caramel."

"I love salted caramel," he said suspiciously.

I was pretty sure that suspicious was his default mode. And, worse than that, it was contagious.

"Hey," I said as I followed him into his room, "did you know Charlie's working at the donut shop?"

"Of course." Briar gestured for me to sit on his bed and went and rummaged around in his drawers. Then he dropped the towel and stepped into a pair of black boxer briefs, giving me an eyeful of his amazing ass. They were basic Hanes boxer briefs, but somehow on Briar they looked as sexy as any lingerie. He shrugged into a loose tee and pulled on a pair of jeans before turning to face me.

"I guess he needs the money," I said.

"Well, yeah. College is expensive," Briar said, sitting down on the bed and opening the donut box. "Was it Charlie who told you I like salted caramel?"

"Yeah."

He took a bite of a salted caramel. "That's so good."

I selected the other one from the box and ate it while I glanced around the room. It was about the same size as my and Marty's room on the floor below with the same sage-colored walls—I think Jamie had said they were sage that time she came and visited—and white trim. Twin beds, twin desks with twin chairs, twin bedside cabinets, and twin white closet doors on the back wall. There was a window beside Charlie's bed that overlooked the side yard and let in the light.

"You guys don't have any posters or anything up yet?" I asked, nodding at the bare hooks on the walls.

Briar sucked glaze off his thumb. "I've been here two days. Not all of us came to college with our beer posters framed and ready to go."

"I challenge you to find a single beer poster in anyone's room."

Briar hummed. "I'm pretty sure Knox has a Coors poster in his room. With a cowboy on it."

"That's vintage."

"Still a beer poster."

I snorted. "Yeah, okay. But you must have had something on your wall in your dorm at Harvey, right?"

He gave me a sidelong look. "I guess. I have no idea where it is though."

"So you still keep in touch with anyone from there?" I asked, thinking of his text from Alan.

His eyes narrowed to slits. "No."

I nudged the donut box closer to him. "What about from here? Have you made any friends outside Alpha Tau?"

"Why are we playing Twenty Questions?"

"It's nothing. I'm just making conversation, that's all. Try the Boston cream."

You ever watched those shelter dog videos on YouTube, where the dogs are all growly and distrustful, and someone has to try to inch closer and closer to them without getting bitten? This conversation felt a lot like that. Like, eventually I might be able to scratch Briar behind the ears, but I'd probably lose some blood along the way.

Briar took a Boston cream.

"Have you seen the uniform Charlie has to wear?" I asked him. "It's pink. Pink is not his color."

Briar snorted. "It's really not."

"It's not like he has any choice though," I said. "Not if it's his uniform. That's the shitty thing about jobs, I guess. Like, you can't tell them you're not gonna wear a pink shirt because you need the money too much. What about you? Have you ever thought about looking for a job around here?"

Oh, nice segue, idiot. Totally subtle.

"What?" Briar scrunched up his face. "No."

"Because I know you're not on great terms with your family," I said. "Like you said, college is expensive. So I was just wondering if they're paying your tuition, or if you have loans, or?—"

"Casey." His voice was cold. He dropped the half-eaten Boston cream back in the box. "What the fuck is going on? Why are you asking all these weird questions about shit that is none of your business?"

"Because..." I thought of the text I'd seen. I thought of the number of times Briar had dodged anything I tried to ask him about his old college. I thought of every moment he kept me at arm's length, when that wasn't what this was supposed to be. "Because you're my boyfriend," I blurted out, "and I want to know things about you."

Briar froze, his jaw dropping. It took him a long moment to close it again and to blink himself back into the conversation. "I'm your what?" he asked in a quiet voice.

My stomach twisted, and a million different insecurities rose up inside me like a drain about to overflow. "You're my boyfriend. Aren't you?"

Briar's dark eyes grew wide, and then he blinked again, rapidly this time, and looked away. "Um. We never actually talked about that."

"We didn't?" Oh, shit. We didn't. "I... I guess I just kind of assumed. Like, we went on a date, and it was great, and I guess I thought that means we'd go on another date soon, and a bunch more after that, and we'd be... a thing."

Briar still wasn't looking at me. "You know what they say about assuming, don't you?"

"Yeah. Looks like I'm proving that right."

He snorted and darted a quick look my way. Then he got interested in the donut box again. He picked up the rest of his slightly smooshed Boston cream. "Maybe not."

Hope swooped in my gut. "No?"

He set the donut down again and turned his head to look at me properly. "I haven't had a boyfriend before."

"Well, me neither."

"But I guess I could give it a try," he said, and the way his voice wavered as though he still wasn't sure made me want to grab him and kiss him until he was as onboard for this as he was for a hookup in the basement.

"I could too," I said.

"Okay," he said faintly and flashed me a quick smile before he looked away again. Except this time he reached out for my hand and hooked his little finger around mine.

"Okay," I echoed. It was no mind-blowing kiss, but unless I was reading Briar all wrong, it was a huge step for him, and it was one he'd agreed to take with me, together, as boyfriends.

I could work with that.