by A. R. Barley
“Chi-Chi and Jesse?” Kelly winced as he pictured the two younger men together. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”
“Chi-Chi speaks the language.”
“Yeah, but the two of them together? What if they make a plan for world domination?”
Nick chuckled. “As long as it’s in Spanish, I don’t give a flying fuck.”
“Poetic. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Kelly turned off the water and gave himself a quick towel dry. He dressed quickly. The clothes he’d been handed were clean and easy to climb into, a white T-shirt and heather-gray sweatpants.
It was the same thing he’d been wearing when Ian came to the dorm to check up on him right after they met. The memory made his muscles tighten. His breath was coming faster. He tugged the pants on over his hips.
He missed Ian.
The sex had been fantastic—the best he ever had—but their relationship had never been just sex. It had been soft kisses and stolen moments walking the dog together after dinner. It had been sitting next to each other at his Aunt Carly’s house—holding hands under the table—and splashing into Lake Halston.
Kelly pulled on his T-shirt, his teeth slicing into his lip. It didn’t matter how many good times they’d had together or if he was freaking in love. Ian had crossed a line with the whip. Kelly couldn’t trust him anymore. It was over.
Finished.
Forever.
When he got to Nick’s room, the door was open and the happy couple was inside splitting up an order of Thai food. Chi-Chi was already there, swanning around on the queen-size bed like a pig in mud.
“This is spectacular.” The drag queen had dressed down for the night in a pair of denim cutoffs and a pastel pink tank top with Drama Baby written on the front in silver sequins. “Like floating on air.”
“I just hope it fits in our apartment,” Jesse said. “We still haven’t found a place for the summer.”
Nick frowned. “We can always—”
“We are not living above Ale Mary’s,” Jesse interrupted, preempting what was clearly a familiar argument. “I don’t care how cheap the rent is. I like to sleep occasionally.”
Kelly bit back a laugh. Nick might have a good eight inches on Jesse, but the kid could clearly hold his own. “You’re looking for a place for the summer?”
“For as long as we can get it,” Jesse said. “Nick’s promotion starts after graduation, and I’ve still got three years until I get my masters.”
“Let me know if you find something, guapo,” Chi-Chi purred from where he was still making love to the crisp clean sheets. “The landlord’s raised the rent on me twice.” Perfectly groomed eyebrows waggled conspiratorially. “Bigoted fuck would have tossed me out on my frou-frou ass a year ago if he wasn’t afraid of my brother.”
Kelly snorted. He snagged a paper plate from the pile on Nick’s desk and helped himself to some pad thai. It was mild, his usual order, but he had a sudden craving for spicy.
His fist slammed into the desk.
He needed to forget about Ian.
The motion made his shirt pull up high on his back, revealing the scars underneath, and there was a sharp gasp.
“Someone’s been a bad, bad boy.” Chi-Chi hopped off the bed and raced over to run his hand across Kelly’s back. His touch was light, delicate, but it still stung. He peeked under the white cotton. “Ooh, kinky. You’re into this sort of thing?”
“Not exactly.” Kelly yanked his shirt back into place and turned around. He couldn’t meet Nick’s eyes...or Jesse’s. His gaze dropped to the dorm room floor. “I like things rough, but the whip...that was our first time trying it.”
“It’s a different sort of pain,” Chi-Chi said, completely nonchalant.
“You like rough sex?” Kelly couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.
“I know a couple of guys in the life.” Chi-Chi bounced up and down on his tiptoes. “One of them refuses to be hit with anything heavier than a handkerchief. He says it just doesn’t do it for him, but he’s nuts about rope.”
“I like cuffs.” Supple leather locked around his wrists, holding him safe and secure while Ian’s fingers played across his body. He shook his head, desperate to change the subject. “If things are that bad with your landlord, you could always stay with me.”
“Right,” Chi-Chi snorted. “You’ve got a place lined up after graduation?”
“My house,” Kelly said. “It’s walking distance to Ale Mary’s.”
“Chingada,” he swore. “You’re not messing around? You’ve actually got a house? What the fuck are you doing here?” Chi-Chi gestured wildly with his fork. “If I had a house—something that was mine for reals—you’d have to use dynamite to get me out of there.”
“It’s complicated.” Kelly didn’t want to get into all the details. “It used to belong to my parents. My aunt wants me to sell it.”
“You told her to fuck off, right?”
“No.” Kelly flushed. The word felt awkward in his mouth. He hadn’t told Carly no. Not when it counted.
“Why the fuck not?”
“She thinks—she thinks it’ll be good for me.”
“And what do you think? It’s your house. That means it’s your decision, hombre. You just say the word and she stops.”
Kelly’s head was swimming. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Chi-Chi’s words kept running through his head. And then he could hear Ian’s voice: “You remember your safe word...You say bluebird—you don’t like what I’m doing—and I’ll stop.”
Stopping the whip had always been an option. One simple word and it all would have been over. Even if he’d forgotten his safe word—bluebird—he could have just said no. Ian would have listened. He would have stopped.
So why hadn’t he?
Kelly slid to the floor as the realization hit him. For the past year he’d been coasting, doing what everyone else wanted. He’d let his aunts, his friends, even his teachers dictate his life. It was easier that way. It meant he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to want.
These days the only choice he made was who to fuck, and even then he’d put up with almost anything a guy threw his way.
What the hell did he want?
Ian. He wanted Ian even if they never had kinky sex again. Sign him up for a lifetime of missionary position with the lights off if it would keep that look of horror off Ian’s face.
What else? He forced himself to take a deep breath, picking up his plate and digging into the hot pad thai while he thought. If he was going to get Ian back—if they were going to have a real relationship—then he needed to take control of his life.
House. Job. Boyfriend. He made a mental list of all the things he needed to tackle. The big old Victorian on Center Street might be an anchor around his neck, but Chi-Chi was right. It was his and he got to decide what happened next. He wasn’t going to sell. Aunt Carly would just have to live with that.
The job part was harder. The position at the university was still open, waiting, but it wasn’t what Ian wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to be an author, to write paradigm-shifting science fiction, but that would take time. He’d need to write up a proposal and find an agent...then a publisher.
A phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Kelly blinked as Nick tossed him his cell. His hands fumbled as he caught the small device and looked down at the screen.
He made a decision.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kelly was already waiting in the university conference room when Ian arrived. He was dressed in a pair of crisp navy slacks, a pin-striped button-down shirt and a blue silk tie arranged in a Windsor knot. His Prince Charming locks had been clipped into a simple crew cut, and his eyes gleamed like precious gems. He was a sterling example of the best Halston had to offer. They
should use him in the freaking recruitment brochures.
Ian frowned as he sat down beside his former lover. “I liked your hair better before.”
“I got it cut for graduation.”
“I know.” He’d only been teaching at the university for two years, mostly freshman classes, but he hadn’t want to miss Kelly walking across the stage.
Cheering in the front row was out of the question—given recent events—but he’d snuck into the back sometime between the processional and President Aldridge’s stirring speech on opportunity. He could have skipped the speech. There had been a five-minute interval dedicated to birds of North America. Ian was pretty sure it was supposed to be a metaphor, but it had dragged on like a Nature special.
“Did Nick dye his hair that color on purpose?”
Kelly snickered. “Who do you think helped pick it out?”
“He looked like a freaking flamingo.”
“He lost a bet. Jesse passed his Spanish final—with an A—so Chi-Chi got to pick the hair color.”
“What would Chi-Chi have had to do if he lost?”
“Teach a line-dancing class at Ale Mary’s next weekend.” Kelly pulled out a leather portfolio with Halston University embossed on the front in gold letters. “I’m glad you got here early. I wanted to talk to you. Whatever happens today, I want you to know I’m sorry about what happened that night. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I should have said my safe word. I—”
The door to the conference room swung open, cutting off the end of the sentence. Ian’s stomach flip-flopped, damn it. What had Kelly been about to say? Ian had made a mistake, but maybe he still had a chance. He would get down on his knees and grovel if it meant having another shot with Kelly. He missed him so damn much; it was like he’d lost a freaking limb.
Maybe if he just said he was sorry. Maybe if he begged...
With the door fully open, there was a slight squeak and Marcy Thomas walked inside. Her cheeks were red. She refused to meet Ian’s gaze.
Un-freaking-believable. Ian had spent the past week trying to figure out who’d turned him in, making a list of his enemies in his head. The closest he’d gotten was one of the other tenure-track professors who wanted to improve their chances of being brought on permanently.
He’d never considered that it might be Marcy, but there was no mistaking the angry look she gave him as she took a seat three chairs down.
“Am I early?” she asked.
“Right on time.” Kelly’s posture was impeccable, his tone was calm and businesslike. He opened his portfolio and pulled out a piece of paper, pushing it across the table.
Ian blinked in surprise as he recognized the letter from the president’s office accusing him of improper relations with a student. How the hell had Kelly gotten a copy?
“Given the information already in evidence, President Aldridge has decided not to attend this meeting,” Kelly said. “I am here to review certain facts, but his decision has already been made. It is final.”
Blood rushed past Ian’s ears. “What the hell’s going on?”
Kelly was supposed to be his witness, but now he was presiding over the meeting like a lord high executioner and Marcy was nodding along. “Yes, Mr. O’Connor.”
“Good.” Kelly cleared his throat, and then the full lips Ian had been dreaming about for what felt like an eternity pulled up into a broad smile. The earth might be spinning off its access, Ian might lose his job and have to spend the next twenty years blogging about outdated economic theories, but nothing could be too bad. Not if Kelly was smiling at him like that. “Now, Ms. Thomas, your statement says that you believe Mr. Larkin is having inappropriate relations with a student.”
“Yes, Mr. O’Connor.” Marcy’s head bobbed up and down. She still wouldn’t look at him.
Kelly picked up a pen and made a notation, like he was going through a checklist. “And, Mr. Larkin, are you currently in a relationship with a student at the university?”
“You know I’m not.”
“Please, Mr. Larkin, if you could stick to yes or no answers.” Kelly’s pen tapped against his notepad. “I’d like to get this over with as soon as possible. You wouldn’t believe the state of Aldridge’s filing system. I’m pretty sure his last assistant was part squirrel. He stuffed things everywhere.”
Aldridge’s. Last. Assistant. Which would make Kelly the university president’s new assistant? Ian blinked in surprise. Kelly had said he had a job offer—an executive assistant position—but he hadn’t said it was at Halston. “You’re working for Aldridge?”
“I’m his new executive assistant.”
“Of course.” Ian nodded, his mind scrambling to keep up with this new turn of events. “No, I’m not currently in a relationship with a student at the university.”
“Good.” Kelly put another checkmark in his notes. He glanced up and his cheeks were flushed. His blue eyes were sharp. “Are you currently in a relationship with anyone?”
It had only been a little over two weeks, and Ian had spent most of that time missing Kelly. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not currently in a relationship, but I’d like to be.”
“Good.” Kelly’s smile widened.
“I heard him,” Marcy interrupted. The secretary’s skin was red. Her dark hair was slipping awkwardly out of her ponytail. Her usually friendly countenance was gone, and she looked mad enough to spit. “He was on the phone with some girl talking about his boyfriend. He’s dating a student.”
“Those are very serious accusations, Ms. Thomas, and President Aldridge asked me to extend his personal thanks to you for bringing it to the administration’s attention. These days, we must be especially vigilant against any notion of impropriety.”
Ian couldn’t help but notice the way Kelly’s lips twitched at the word impropriety, but the words seemed to put Marcy at ease. She settled back in her chair, arms crossed, head held high in righteous indignation.
“Now,” Kelly continued, “Mr. Larkin, have you ever been involved in a romantic relationship with a student in one of your classes?”
“No.”
“In the economics department?”
“No,” Ian repeated. He was a teacher, not a jackass. “I haven’t.”
“What about any other sort of relationship? Do you engage socially with any of your students? Are you friends?” There was a slight pause. “You may extrapolate on this point if necessary.”
Ian gave the question all due consideration. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Jesse Cole. He was in my sophomore class—one of my best students—I’ve seen him outside of class a few times. I loaned him some books.” In Kelly’s hallway and at Ale Mary’s snuggled up to his boyfriend. Hell, he remembered the stern look on Jesse’s face when he offered to post bail for Ian and Nick. “I’d consider him a sort of friend.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” Kelly took some notes, the scratch of his pen on paper audible in the small conference room. “Of course, if your relationship with Mr. Cole changes in any way then he should be encouraged to take his classes from other professors.”
“Sure.” He’d miss seeing Jesse in class—the kid actually did his homework and liked to raise his hand—but there were plenty of upper level classes for him to take. “That’s fine.”
“One last question, Mr. Larkin.” Long fingers stretched out across the wide table, almost close enough to touch. “To clear things up, have you ever been in a romantic relationship with any student at Halston University?”
For fuck’s sake. Kelly had to know how uncomfortable the questions were making him. The cheeky brat was practically begging for a spanking, and Ian’s hand was itching to deliver. He forced himself to take a deep breath as blood drained straight from his head to his dick.
“I did at one time have a relationship with a student. It e
nded badly. I did some things I’m not proud of.” Just thinking about the whip made his gut churn. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Things I regret. I betrayed a trust—”
“I’m sure it wasn’t entirely your fault.” Kelly’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip, the action sparking heat across Ian’s skin as he imagined capturing that tongue in a long kiss. “Trust goes both ways. Maybe the young man didn’t know what he wanted. That’s the problem with dating students, many of them are still finding themselves.”
“Yeah, it’s not something I’m going to do again.” The only person he was interested in dating was Kelly, and he’d already gotten his diploma. “You still finding yourself, Mr. O’Connor?”
“Oh no, I know exactly what I want.” There was a slight pressure against Ian’s leg under the desk in a subtle invitation to something more.
His head was spinning. His heart was pounding. He wanted to stop this farce of a hearing and bend Kelly over the conference table. Fuck. His hands clenched, nails slicing deep into his palm as he struggled to keep from reaching for him.
Instead, he waited like a good boy while Kelly put his cap back on his pen and closed his portfolio. “Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Larkin. As I stated, President Aldridge has already made his decision. A note will be added to your employee file absolving you of any guilt.”
“What?” Marcy jerked forward in her seat. “But he—”
“Didn’t break any rules. The administration has already taken testimony from the student in this case, and Aldridge is completely satisfied.”
“Fine,” she huffed, standing up. “Are you coming to my barbecue next week? All the secretaries and assistants are invited.”
Kelly’s head cocked to the side, considering. “Are you making deviled eggs?”
“My mamma’s recipe.”
“Can I bring my boyfriend?”
“Of course, get back to me with a head count.” Marcy turned, tossing some side eye in Ian’s direction, and then flounced out of the room.
Ian shook his head. “Can you imagine her face when we walk in together?”