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“Yeah? Were you getting ready to tell him how far I had my dick
up your ass an hour ago?”
“I was…” I faltered. “I don’t know. Yeah, maybe?” The uncertainty
bled out in my tone. Because I wasn’t fucking ready. I wasn’t ready to
say shit to anyone, and I liked what Eric and I had going on just the
way it was.
“Yeah, that sounds about right.” An arctic chill fell over his
features, and he rocked a step back, looking up at the sky and drawing
a breath that he let out slowly. “And you think the school will want to
keep paying your scholarship if you get charged with something,
huh?”
I felt the air sail from my chest all at once. My scholarship should
have been the first thing I thought of. Instead it’d been Eric.
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking my hesitation as an
answer.
I leaned back against the side of the house, a million thoughts
reeling through my head. “This is…this is…” I wasn’t sure how to fill
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in the gap. Something was fucking wrong with me. I was being cava‐
lier, skipping out on duties to my fraternity, putting my scholarship in
jeopardy. For what? But as I lifted my gaze to meet Eric’s, I knew.
I knew.
And I needed to tell him. Even if he didn’t want to hear it.
But his next words caught me in my side like a thousand fishhooks
and dragged across my chest.
“This is sideways, that’s what. And it stops now,” he said evenly.
I straightened abruptly from my lean. “What the fuck does
that mean?”
“Exactly what you think it does.”
“You’re just going to make that decision for us?”
“There is no us. There’s never been an us.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.” There might not have been an
“us” in technical terms, but the way we’d been last night and today,
that we’d planned on hanging out again tonight…that was more than
fucking nothing.
Eric gave a sharp shake of his head. “There’s you and there’s me
and as it turns out, maybe I’m not as comfortable putting you at risk
as I thought I was.”
“So that’s it, then, easy as that? You’re not comfortable ‘putting me
at risk’? What a load of horseshit, dude.” I had to laugh at his audacity,
but it was a laugh that came out serrated with my bitterness at how he
could turn on a dime.
I felt my molars grinding with the intensity of my stare. Eric didn’t
say anything, just maintained that impassive fucking fortress of an
expression, but I didn’t buy it, and instead found the whole situation
maddening beyond belief. Every muscle in my body felt taut, coiled
for release, begging for it. And this time not for what Eric could give
me. I’d gotten in a few scuffles before. Mostly on the field in football
or drunk at bars, but never in my life had I wanted to hit someone as
badly as I did at that moment. And for as shitty as I felt about that, I
think mostly I was driven by the desire to force a break in that walled-
off gaze he’d aimed at me.
“Do it if it’ll make you feel better.” There was nothing in his tone
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that was cajoling or challenging. It wasn’t a taunt, just plain-spoken
acceptance. The words held the same passivity written over his face.
I let out a sound of exasperation and gave up. “Fuck you, Eric, you
obstinate dick.”
He turned away to walk back inside the house, leaving me out on
the porch.
How did he fucking do that? How’d he just stand there and turn it
off like that? Unbelievable.
I dropped down onto the stoop and stared out into the alley
beyond our yard, trying to think logically. What had I expected
anyway? It’d been about fooling around from the get-go. And what
Eric had said made sense: I was risking some shit with our antics that
maybe I shouldn’t be, considering my position. But shit, I craved it
now, and I really wanted to make that all his fault instead of my own.
But it wasn’t. Not really.
Maybe it was for the best. It’d begun as an experiment, and hadn’t
we done enough that I should have the conclusion blazoned on my
brain undoubtedly? I liked dick. Or, at the least, I liked some dick.
Now I knew for sure and could move on.
It was just fooling around.
I said it over and over again to myself, but the words refused to
sink in; they just sat on the surface of my brain with nowhere to go
because all the dark recesses of me were already filled with him.
ANSEL WAS SLICING plastic wrap from a pizza when I came back inside
while Jesse stood at the stove, twisting the knob to set the oven timer.
Ansel glanced up at me. “Want some? It’s meat lovers.”
Fucking perfect.
“Maybe, I dunno. I ate a late lunch,” I answered vaguely, aware that
Jesse was staring at me.
“Everything cool?” he asked. “Mark seemed pretty pissed.”
I hedged before sighing and giving in. “Eric and I were doing some
blow at the fundraiser thing last night. In one of the offices. They
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found out and were pissed. Called the frat. Want money for some
bullshit damages that didn’t happen.” At least I didn’t think they had.
Now that I had more time to think about it, I wasn’t sure. I guess we
could’ve scratched the desk or something, but it wasn’t like we’d
broken anything.
Jesse’s brows bunched up in a fierce furrow as he leaned back
against the stove, still staring. “You…were doing blow with Eric. You
do coke?”
“Not often, Jesus, but yeah, sometimes. I was fucking bored.” I
needed to get out of there. I hated fucking lying, and yet lying was all I
seemed to be doing lately. Jesse’s gaze bored into me like I was a
goddamn alien with two heads. I noticed that his disbelief was
weighted heavily on me, not Eric, which made me kinda wonder…
What the fuck ever. That wasn’t the point. None of this was.
I reached into the fridge for a beer and took it with me, calling
over my shoulder, “Never mind about the pizza. I’ll probably grab
something out.” I had no desire to sit around with Jesse and Ansel if
Jesse was going to keep looking at me like that.
I cracked the beer on the stairs, had guzzled half by the time I got
into my room, and spent the next half hour staring uncomprehend‐
ingly at my philosophy homework, not in the mood to get fucking
ponderous about esoteric shit when I couldn’t even logic my way out
of a simple cause-and-effect problem. So when Mark texted me, I was
glad for the distraction.
Mark: Bunch of the guys are on way to Pfeiffer’s
Mark: Strongly suggest you make an appearance
I showered and shaved, avoiding glancing at Eric’s stuff because it
made me think about how I’d been ready to stick my nose in his
toiletry kit a month back. Lame.
I didn’t knock when I stood in front of his door, just turned the
knob like I had the night before and let myself in. Eric sat propped up
on his bedspread, the lamp on his nightstand on, a textbook open and
resting on the tops of his thighs. I shut the door quietly behind me
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and leaned against it with my hands behind my back, palms pressing
into the cool wood surface. My gaze traveled the room, making a stop
at those bridges he’d built, drawn again to the precision and finesse of
the construction. On one wall, he had a framed poster of Dali with his
famously askew mustache. Atop his dresser were a couple of framed
photographs of his family I’d never paid attention to before. Him with
his mom and stepdad. And another, him with a man I guessed was his
dad. Both of them smiling the same smile, Eric’s chin tipped up as he
squinted against the sunlight that fell across them.
I thought I’d come in here with more to say, but as I looked back to
Eric, his gaze unwavering upon me, I no longer knew what it was. My
whole body felt fatigued, as if with muscle exhaustion, like I’d gone
too hard in the gym or I was coming down with the flu. It wasn’t
either of those things, but maybe I could pretend for a while.
“You’ll get over it,” he said, surprising me that he’d spoken at all.
I sucked at my lower lip and nodded as I lied again. “Yeah, prob‐
ably so. But will you?”
It was a shot in the dark, because with Eric, for every certainty I
felt about him, a hundred other doubts popped up. He shifted
constantly, even in my own mind, and maybe I just didn’t have
enough experience to pinpoint the dynamics the way a guy like him
could, no landmarks I could rely on. But a flicker of regret passed
through his eyes. Or maybe it was hurt.
Whichever it was was enough.
I didn’t wait for an answer that wouldn’t come, but turned and
walked out.
—END—
35
W A N T M O R E N E V E W I L D E R ?
Are you sitting there shaking your fist at me? Or maybe at Nate and
Eric? Not to worry, I’m hard at work on the next episode, which will
be out February 23rd and will give our boys some righteous resolu‐
tion. After that episode of Extracurricular Activities, there will be one
more before we conclude. And I solemnly promise you an HEA. :)
In the meantime, you can shoot me an email or join me in my Face‐
book group:
Wilder’s Wild Ones
Join Neve’s Facebook readers’ group for a daily dose of Neve, ARC
opportunities, m/m book banter, updates on WIPs (including Nate
and Eric!) and other randomness.
37
A L S O B Y N E V E W I L D E R
“Our biggest hit is a love song I wrote for my bandmate. And he has
no idea.”
Dedicated is my second full-length release. Two rockers, a handful of secrets,
and a publicity nightmare tossed in a remote cabin. Shaken and stirred with
snark, angst, and a shit ton of sexual tension. Kaboom, y'all.
getbook.at/Dedicated
This needs to go right to the top of your TBR pile. It is MAGIC. If friends to lovers is
AT ALL your thing, then look no further. This is the best one I've ever read. The
characters are magnetic throughout and the story progresses in a wonderfully
meaningful (and sometimes rocky) way. Ends with a HEA that is so, so satisfying.
—Amazon Reviewer
So many adjectives I could use for this book; soulful, dirty, gripping, honest and most
of all, it’s full of heart and it brought every emotion to the fore. I’m stone cold in love
with this author’s writing and desperate for more.
—OMG Reads
Sparks fly, banter is slung, gut-punch moments had me sucking in a deep breath as
the emotions resonated within me, and the sexual tension was off the charts smoking
hot. Their relationship was real and raw, even with all the duplicity surrounding
them.
Not going to lie, I spent the entire day with my nose buried in my Kindle, eagerly
tapping the pages and ignoring life, from page one until the end.
—Wicked Reads
Center of Gravity, is my angst-ridden, slow burn debut, free to read in
Kindle Unlimited.
mybook.to/CenterOfGravity
"Once in a while, a book comes along and knocks you for six; this is one of those
books. It was a joy to read and it had so much depth, that it reached another level
for me."
—OMGReads
"Center Of Gravity is just what I hope for and rarely find when reading a new author
and new contemporary romance. It's that marvelous, heartwarming story full of just
about every element that grabs at you and compels you to read it!"
—Scattered Thoughts & Rogue Words
A B O U T N E V E W I L D E R
Neve Wilder lives in the southern U.S., where the summers are hot
and the winters are...sometimes cold.
She reads promiscuously, across multiple genres, but her favorite
stories always contain an element of romance. Incidentally, this is also
what she likes to write. Slow-burners with delicious tension? Yes.
Whiplash-inducing page-turners, also yes. Down and dirty scorchers?
Yes. And every flavor in between.
She believes David Bowie was the sexiest musician to ever live,
and she's always game to nerd out on anything from music to writing.
And finally, she believes that love conquers all. Except the heat
index in July. Nothing can conquer that bastard.
Visit her on the web:
www.nevewilder.com