by Andy Gallo
The Sigma Chi captain came over with the ball. “How about we call it a draw. We can split the keg.”
“That works,” Marcus said. When they left, he turned to his brother. “But I think Jack should buy the beer. He threw the game.”
“Fine.” Jack winked at Ed and beckoned him closer.
“Did you really plan that?” Ed asked, the light in his eyes dancing with humor.
Jack tried to look innocent. “You think I could have planned that?”
“Yes!” half the team said at once.
Marcus clapped Ed on the shoulder, and the two most awesomest guys in Jack’s life grinned at him. “Let’s hope he works off the rust before tryouts start.”
Marcus rejoined the other players, leaving Ed and Jack alone. “You could have told me what you were doing. I wouldn’t have dove for the ball.”
Ed dusted some of the dirt from his shirt. The movement caused the shirt to ride up, exposing the trail of hair leading to his shorts. The effect was instant, and Jack tore his eyes away. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. Just be sure you’re up for it.”
“I’m calling the shots tonight.” Ed leered at Jack. “It’s you who’d better be sure.”
The End.
Next in the Harrison Campus series
Better Have Heart
They hate everything about each other, so why do they harmonize so well?
Isaiah Nettles wants a chance. A chance to help his family.
The prestigious Gage Scholarship will secure his future. He needs this.
The competition might be hot, but Darren Gage is a golden child.
No way will Isaiah let an entitled rich kid be handed the award.
But what if Darren is more than an entitled rich kid?
Darren Gage wants to be seen. Seen as more than just his name.
The Gage Scholarship will let him shine. He needs this.
Sure, Isaiah is insanely sexy—and right to stand up for himself—but he is the competition.
No way will Darren let just anyone take his legacy.
But what if Isaiah isn’t just anyone?
Better Have Heart
Harrison Campus #2
Darren
Darren Gage was a disappointment. To his dad and to himself. And he wanted that to change.
There were many reasons for being disappointed in himself. Like how he’d stood by Harper, biggest douche in their frat, and let him tear into Jack mercilessly for confronting him about cheating on his girlfriend. Or how he’d forced himself to laugh at cruel jokes because it was the path with least resistance.
But mostly, he was a disappointment because he couldn’t tell Dad his attitude sucked since Darren had come out.
At least Mom was taking to it.
Sort of.
Not quite the way he wanted.
Darren stared at the message his mom sent and wished he’d jumped into the shower right after soccer practice rather than check his phone. Instead, he’d scooped it from under the folds of blankets that were puddled on the floor. He was too damn addicted to this thing.
He plunked his sweaty ass on the corner of his bed and rubbed the end of the phone against his temple, groaning.
Mom: Someone wanted to say hello and they wish they’d known you were gay last summer.
He winced and tapped the attached video. It was Max Whateverhisnamewas, saying hello and smiling stiffly at him from the screen.
Thing was, Max wasn’t smiling at him. He was smiling at Darren’s lineage. At Darren Josiah Gage Sr., the oil baron, not Darren J. Gage V., the student. Max and his parents wanted a husband with the right credentials. The measuring stick for “right” was how many generations the family had been wealthy. Clearly, the Gages passed the test.
Even if Max was the hottest guy ever, Darren couldn’t stomach his family. They tried too hard to fit in. All he wanted was something genuine. Real.
True.
He stared through his open door into the bright hall.
Piano music tinkered through the house, and he flung himself backward on the bed and bathed in the calming notes.
He looked at his walls.
His side of the dorm room looked like a homage to Cristiano Ronaldo. He’d never been allowed to tape tacky posters on the wall growing up, and he made up for it here. The plastered walls were comfort. A glimpse of the normal guy under the shadow of Gage and all the generations of wealth that name represented.
He snuck another look at Mom’s message.
What would it be like to have someone smile at him for him?
His fraternity brother’s panicked voice hurtled down the hall, breaking his thoughts. “I need two hundred and fifty dollars to get my car. I can barely spare fifty.”
“Shit, Seth. I’m sorry.” Billy Dorgan sounded like he was wincing on Seth’s behalf. “I’d help out, but my parents haven’t loaded my spending money into my account.”
“This is so cracked. I didn’t even unpack everything ’cause I didn’t want to leave my car there.”
Annoyance sparked through Darren. Campus police only targeted the cars of people they knew couldn’t make a fuss. As if the rich kids didn’t double-park all the time. How many free passes had Darren got? And he didn’t think twice about what went off his card.
Another unfair advantage that came with the name Gage.
A door shut, muffling their voices.
The music stopped, too, and he was left stewing in his own sweat, made worse by the fact he had to answer his mom.
He imagined how he might reply.
Hey Mom, stop trying to set me up with men who have “decent” last names. In fact, stop trying to set me up at all. Especially if they’re stuffed shirts. We good? Love you.
Or, if he wasn’t quite that brave:
Hey Mom, Max has a sister, right? How about playing matchmaker with Cody? He’s the son who needs to stop dropping trou at the first hint of a smile.
He sent his mom a waving emoji. He sure was well versed in taking the coward’s route. Like signing up for summer classes to avoid the annual trip to the family’s estate in Rhode Island.
Yeah, he couldn’t stand an entire summer of his dad ignoring him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Maybe Dad just needed time.
Or maybe Darren first had to prove he wasn’t a complete disappointment.
His phone vibrated. Not Dad. Never Dad anymore. He tossed it across the bed.
Yeah, he needed to improve himself. Be better. Win Dad over.
And himself over, while he was at it.
“Calm down, Seth. We’ll figure it out.”
“How?” Seth walked past his door, hands clutching his head, looking miserable.
“Hey,” Darren said. The pair jumped and twisted toward his room. He cleared his throat. “What happened to your car?”
They eyed him suspiciously. He couldn’t blame them. They were tight with Jack, and Darren had been particularly idiotic to the guy last year.
Heat burned up his chest. Shame and guilt and the clawing urge for redemption. For people to know he was sorry. That he was trying to be better.
Billy eyed him warily. “Campus coppers towed him. They didn’t tell us it happened, so it took a day and a half to find it. If you don’t pick up within forty-eight hours, they double the fee.”
Darren rolled off his bed and dug into his bag for his wallet and keys. “I take it they don’t accept credit cards.”
“Bingo, Big D.” He winced, and added, “And the forty-eight hours is up at three thirty.”
Darren’s fingers closed on the cold metal key ring. He pulled it out and spun it around his finger. He knew the D wasn’t short for Darren. Still. He couldn’t repair things if he didn’t try. “No worries, we can make it.”
“We?” Billy looked at Seth and then back at Darren.
Be better. “I’d let you borrow my car, but I need to stop at the ATM to get money.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. From socce
r.
From nerves.
Seth noticed the move and frowned.
Darren hurriedly said, “I really need a shower.”
“Why?” Seth asked.
“I just got in from soccer practice.”
“No . . . why are you offering to help us?”
Thank you, Harper, for turning me into a big dickhead. He met their skeptical gazes. “Because we’re brothers and you need help.”
They cocked their heads simultaneously, and Darren busied himself making sure his bank card was in his wallet. “I mean, if you don’t want me along, we can stop by the ATM, I’ll get the money, and you bring me back before you go to the tow lot.”
“No, we’re cool with you coming,” Seth said. “I’ll pay you back as soon as my loan check clears.”
Darren stuffed his wallet in his waistband. His soccer shorts didn’t have pockets. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I can’t take your money.” The protest came with another hint of hesitation.
How to reply without sounding like a privileged asshole? “It’s not a problem, I don’t need it.”
He hid a wince. Not exactly the definition of nailing it.
“On one condition,” Seth said after a long moment. “Stop by our room later. My mom sent me back with a whole box of food. Her triple-chocolate caramel cookies are awesome.”
He paused at the unexpected offer of friendship.
Thank fuck his phone ringing stopped him from blurting something awkwardly sentimental. He plucked his phone from the bed. He expected Mom to flash on screen, rearing to pimp him out to Max, but the number on the display was a university extension.
He held his finger up at Seth and Billy—just a minute.
“Hello?”
“Darren? This is President Jenkins.”
The university president was calling him? Directly? “President Jenkins. Hello, sir.”
“I need you to come to my office as soon as you can. We need to discuss the Gage Scholar Program.”
Why would the president call him about that? “I’m taking a . . . friend to get his car. Can I come by after that?”
Silence met his question. Clearly, that had been the wrong answer.
“As I said, this is important.”
He hadn’t said that, but it couldn’t be so important he had to drop everything. After all, this was Darren’s family’s endowment to the school. “I understand, but my friend has no other way to get to the tow lot besides me. Can I come around five?”
More silence followed. “Six. I have another meeting at four that will take me past five.”
They ended the call as abruptly as it began. What the hell was that all about?
He twisted to find Seth staring at him, wide-eyed. “Was that the university president?”
“What’d he want?” Billy asked.
“Not sure,” Darren said. “Something about the family endowment.” Something felt off about the call. His father ran the trust, and Darren knew nothing about it other than he was supposed to be the Gage Scholar this year. “C’mon.”
“Seriously. Thank you,” Seth said. “You’re awesome.”
If only he could make his dad see that.
Darren was supposed to drop Seth off with the money and leave, but . . . he lingered in his car at the curb. He’d drive off when he saw Seth exiting the lot in his wheels.
Jesus, what was taking them so long? It was five minutes to three thirty.
He stared out the windshield at the three short rows of towed vehicles to the left of the gas station. Something wasn’t right. Seth and Billy had gone in twenty minutes ago.
Darren slipped out of his car and entered the air-conditioned office. He choked on a cold breath tasting of oil, rust, and frustration.
Billy stood scowling at a guy in overalls, who watched him and Seth with a bored expression. Seth was pacing in front of the desk, voice barely suppressing his panic. “It’s a blue Toyota Corolla with a small dent in the bumper,” he said. “If you just let me show you—”
“I told ye, ’lright. We’re searching. You shoulda come with enough time for finding your baby.”
“But I only have two fifty. I can’t pay double.”
“Shoulda thought ’bout that when you double-parked, aye?” Overalls Guy glanced at the clock on the wall that ticked closer to three thirty. “My man will find it in a few minutes, I’m sure.”
The smug quirk of his lips told Darren everything. Stupid fuckwit at the impound lot seemed to think torturing Seth was good sport.
Darren cursed himself for waiting so long outside. He should have known the crew would play games so close to the deadline.
He strode up to the desk. He’d have this situation handled within half a minute. Reaching out a hand, he caught the guy’s eye. “Darren Gage V. My great-great-grandfather started MAS Oil.”
The guy straightened in his swivel chair and shook his hand, glancing out the window at the MAS Oil sign in front of the gas station.
He recognized the name, then. “Thank you for helping my man out with his car, here,” Darren said, withdrawing his hand and clamping it on Seth’s shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re helping,” the guy said.
Darren felt sick at the dude’s sudden eagerness to please. He slicked on a smile. “Great. Sure you guys are organized enough that he’ll drive out of here within the minute, right?”
Overalls Guy shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, well . . . we have a rule if it goes past three thirty—”
“Rules! Meant to be bent, no? I remember this one time—funny story—MAS Oil’s legal team crawled up the ass of this gas station owner who tried to charge this old lady for work they didn’t do. Pretty sure the guy lost his franchise. All for less than five hundred dollars. I think we can all agree, the dude wished he’d been more flexible.”
Seth’s surprised gaze heated one side of Darren’s face, and Billy’s the other.
Overalls Guy frowned, like he wasn’t sure what his next move was meant to be. How much did Darren have to spell it out?
He drew out his phone. “Hang on, let me call my dad.”
He scrolled to his dad’s number.
It might have gone beautifully, if he hadn’t hesitated with his finger on the call button. Fucker behind the desk saw it and called his bluff, lounging into his chair once more.
Fuck.
He shouldn’t have paused like that. But seeing Dad on the screen had his throat seizing. He hadn’t called Dad directly since he’d come out.
Before that, he and Dad called regularly. Once a week at least. Never, in his memory, could he remember a time when Dad’s phone had gone more than three rings before he picked up.
He was . . . nervous to try.
But it was his dad. Disappointed or not, he’d pick up his call, right?
Yeah. He would.
Darren hit dial.
One ring.
Two.
He swallowed.
Three.
So. Maybe Dad was just busy? Really, really busy.
But . . . he’d always put business on hold, even if it was to tell Darren he had to call him back.
Four.
He threw the Overalls Guy a smirk that he hoped didn’t look as stiff as it felt.
Five.
Six.
He pushed down the sting in his eyes.
Dad’s voice burst in his ear, loud enough that the guy stirred.
Darren stared back at him. “Hey, Dad. It’s me. You’ll never guess where I am right now . . .”
Overalls Guy jerked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. “Found your car,” he said to Seth. “Just in time.”
Darren nodded coolly at him and took his “call” outside, slipping into a wall of heat just as his dad’s answering machine buzzed for him to leave a message.
~ ~ ~
"Better Have Heart" is an enemies to lovers, slow burn M/M romance with a HEA. This New Adult, college, opposite attract, rich-boy poor-boy novel can be re
ad as a standalone.
Acknowledgments
From Andy:
First to Anyta for taking this journey with me. This book started it all and I owe so much to you.
To Claire, my personal assistant and friend. I’d be so lost without her help and friendship.
And of course, thank you to all the readers who took the time to read our book. You make it all worthwhile.
From Anyta:
To Andy for writing these stories with me. It’s so much fun to be on this adventure with you.
And to my three boys who make my days so much brighter!
About Andy
Andy Gallo prefers mountains over the beach, coffee over tea, and regardless if you shake it or stir it, he isn’t drinking a martini. He remembers his “good old days” as filled with mullets, disco music, too-short shorts, and too-high socks. Thanks to good shredders and a lack of social media, there is no proof he ever descended into any of those evils.
Andy does not write about personal experiences and no living or deceased ex-boyfriends appear on the pages of his stories. He might subconsciously infuse his characters with some of their less noble qualities, but that is entirely coincidental even if their names are the same. And while Andy leaves the hard sci-fi/fantasy for his alter ego, Andrew, in his mind a touch of the supernatural never derailed a good relationship.
Married and living his own happy every after, Andy helps others find their happy endings in the pages of his stories. He and his husband of more than twenty years spend their days raising their daughter and rubbing elbows with other parents. Embracing his status as the gay dad, Andy sometimes has to remind others that one does want a hint of color even when chasing after their child.
Website: www.andygallo.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/andygalloauthor