Out of this World (Browerton University Book 5)

by A. J. Truman

  Rafe rolled his eyes and let out a laugh. He knew Eamonn well enough to know how patently false that was. Anyone who met Eamonn knew that. Was this really the best he had?

  “They come here every year, looking for that authentic British experience, and Eamonn gives them a royal welcome.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m just fucking with you, mate.” Nathan smiled as he drank his beer. “But you really aren’t the first Yank to do this. Plenty of Americans come over here, looking for their very own Mr. Darcy to shag, who by the power of his sexy British accent can pull them out of their suburban, strip mall, moribund existence. And then they leave with a story to tell their sorority sisters back home, of how for a brief moment, their lives were interesting.”

  “That’s a touching story, Nathan.” Rafe put on a face of apathy, which took everything in him. If only he could’ve thrown Nathan’s beer in his face. Alfie wouldn’t appreciate that.

  “You seem like one of those Yanks. You probably have a poster of Colin Firth hanging in your bedroom.”

  Maybe Alfie wouldn’t mind if I threw a drink in his face. Maybe I’d get a raise. Rafe’s heart rattled in his chest. Adrenaline flowed through his veins. But he would not give in. That was what Nathan wanted. Then it would be easier for Rafe’s flatmates to turn on him. He had to play it cool.

  “You’re trying to put on a brave face for me. That’s cute.” Nathan spun a coaster between his fingers. “I’m not trying to hit a nerve. Just making an observation. But the thing you didn’t think about is that Eamonn isn’t a stock character in your travelogue.”

  “You don’t know what Eamonn is to me.”

  “He’s a fun story for you, but those of us who really care about him see a kind soul who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a piece of meat.”

  “I’m trying not to laugh in your face,” Rafe said.

  “No, I don’t think you want to laugh.” Nathan studied him, like he was going to play Rafe in a performance.

  “You’re being a hypocrite.” Rafe wasn’t as good as Nathan at the cutting remarks.

  Nathan raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Oh, right, because you think I just ditched Eamonn. Because you know everything about what happened, and that makes you fit to comment.”

  “You treated him like a piece of meat. I’m sure you and Hugh Grant had a nice laugh about your ex-boyfriend watching you kiss another guy at the airport.”

  A dark cloud settled over Nathan’s eyes. “You shouldn’t talk about that which you don’t understand. What Eamonn and I have is complicated. We have a real bond.”

  “We do, too.”

  Nathan burst out laughing, and it filled up the entire bar. “Keep telling yourself that, mate. Like I said, I’m trying to look out for Eamonn. If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t do this to him. And I’m looking out for you, too. You don’t seem like the kind of bird who shags for fun.”

  “I know what Eamonn and I have. I think you do, too. But nice try with the whole intimidation thing.” Rafe narrowed his eyes at Nathan like an OK Corral showdown.

  Nathan finished his beer and dropped the pint glass on the floor. “You should probably clean that up, runner.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” Rafe said. After Nathan had already left.

  * * *

  His hands trembled with aftershocks from his run-in with Nathan. When he returned to his room, he Facetimed Coop, who was coming back from morning classes. Coop’s jacked up physique was a welcome sight and reminded him of home.

  He had barely spoken to anyone since he’d been here. It was like traveling to another dimension. That reminded him to email his parents a quick update. (He listed all the boring stuff that he and Coop didn’t discuss, like classes. Parents really cared about what their kids learned.) Rafe caught Coop up on his British escapades, including losing his virginity, getting a job, and Nathan.

  “Congratulations, that’s amazing, and Nathan’s an asshole.”

  Coop was not one to mince words, but his certainty took Rafe a little by surprise.

  “He’s just very sarcastic.”

  “Nope. He’s an asshole.”

  “He’s a little full of himself. He’s an actor. He’s worked with Hugh Grant.”

  “Loved About a Boy. Still makes him an asshole.”

  Rafe slumped back in his desk chair. “How are you so sure of this? Maybe I’m not describing him right. I mean, Heath and Louisa are still friends with him.”

  Rafe knew that if Coop were here, he’d keep Nathan away from Eamonn at all times.

  “Why are you defending him?” Coop asked.

  Rafe shrugged. He knew that assholes existed in this world, and he knew that they attended Browerton and Stroude, and that there would be many more assholes throughout his life. But he’d never come face-to-face with one who was intent on being an asshole to him. He prided himself on not having any enemies.

  Everyone liked Rafe!

  “Rafe,” Coop motioned him to come closer to the screen. “This is war.”

  “War?”

  “This asshole is trying to make you look like an idiot and steal your guy.”

  “But is Eamonn even mine to be stolen?” Nathan was a reminder that Eamonn had a life in England well before Rafe ever dropped in, and he would continue to have that life after he left.

  “The guy likes you.”

  “How do you know any of this? You’re an ocean away. You’ve never met any of these people!”

  “And you like him, too, Rafe. Maybe you can’t see it because you’re in it, but you do. So now you have to fight.”

  “If I fight, I’ll lose. I always lose in these situations. I’m always someone’s second choice.” Rafe wouldn’t be able to take losing him. He couldn’t be Eamonn’s Baxter.

  “You don’t know that. Eamonn seems into you.”

  Rafe dragged his hands desperately through his hair. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wanted to sex myself across England. Remember what we talked about last spring?”

  He was most definitely not slutting it up with Eamonn. The sex they had was not just for fun. He hit it, and he did not want to quit it.

  “I really like him, Coop.”

  “I can tell. I’ve never seen you this way.”

  Rafe perked up, curious to hear the assessment that came next.

  “Usually, you’d be into a guy for some random, superficial reason, like he has a cute name or has nice hair. You’d obsess for a week, nothing would happen, and then you’d move onto the next one. But this feels different. You seem different.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, it’s been a lot more than a week. But…you have this added weight in your voice. And you have that same ‘oh shit’ look that I had when I realized I was in love with Matty.”

  Am I in love? Rafe wasn’t sure about that, but he knew he cared for Eamonn. It would only make things harder when he got on that plane next month.

  Chapter 21

  EAMONN

  Eamonn woke up on the seventh of November in usual fashion: with a phone call from his mum and sisters.

  “Happy birthday!”

  They broke into a rendition of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” It was corny, but it always made Eamonn smile. They officially celebrated his birthday last night at the house with some homemade haggis and chocolate cake. Rafe took pictures at the stove as his mum taught him how to make haggis. He had been apprehensive about attending a family event, but Eamonn wanted him there, as did his family.

  “Tell your mom I loved that chocolate cake. I’m going to have some of it for breakfast. She has to give me the recipe,” Rafe said. He lay in bed next to Eamonn, and there was no better sight to wake up next to.

  “She’ll email it to you,” Eamonn said.

  Rafe gave him the thumbs up. He went to the bathroom, and Eamonn continued the call.

  “What are you up to tonight?” she asked.

  “Heath got us all tickets to see Bloc Party in London.”r />
  “That should be fun!” his mum said.

  “You have the worst taste in music, Eamonn,” Olivia said.

  “Did Olivia just say something, or did a cat get stuck in the dishwasher?”

  “Sod off,” she said.

  “Oy!” Their mum yelled. “It’s your brother’s birthday. Be nice.”

  “Oh Eamonn,” Olivia said, in a super chipper voice. “What terrible taste in music you have!”

  “Rafe is a great flatmate,” Mary said. No giggle this time.

  “He is.” Eamonn smiled to himself. These past few weeks had been one for the record books. Not even Nathan hanging around could put a damper on their relationship. Rafe was there when he went to sleep and when he woke up. His eyes, his lips, his sense of humor, it was all his.

  “I’ll show him how to make a gingerbread house for the holidays,” his mum said.

  “You’ll have to swim him on Skype. He’s study abroad trip ends in December.” He’ll be all the way back in Arlington, Virginia by then. The pain of time lanced his heart.

  “Oh,” his mum said. His sisters had no comment.

  “I must go. They don’t cancel classes on your birthday, unfortunately.”

  They said their goodbyes.

  “You sound really great,” his mum said, a bit serious. “When Nathan came back, I was worried. But Rafe is wonderful, even if he’s...”

  “It’s just a birthday, mum. No need to get all mushy.”

  “Sod off,” she said, but it overflowing with love.

  Rafe came back to bed and rested against Eamonn’s chest. They stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the quiet of being together.

  “I’m really excited for the concert. Thank you for going, even though you aren’t a fan.”

  “What? I love Bloc Party!”

  Eamonn wasn’t buying it for a second. Rafe tried to leave his bed, but was trapped by his arms.

  “As birthday boy, I compel you to stay.”

  “Don’t you want your birthday breakfast?”

  “I’d rather just eat you.” He brushed Rafe’s wild hair out of his face.

  “But it’s your favorite. Bubble and squeak.”

  “Shit. You’re making bubble and squeak? You don’t have to do all that!”

  “It’s your twenty-first birthday! That may not be a big deal over here, but it’s huge in the states, so I couldn’t let it go unnoticed.”

  Eamonn hugged him tight against his chest. He could stare into those brown eyes all day. He forgot how bloody sappy he got when he was in a relationship, or whatever this was, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Are you ready for the first part of your birthday gift?”

  “I’m hungry!”

  “I wasn’t talking about that.”

  Rafe slid his hand into Eamonn’s pants and massaged his cock. “In America, we call this the Brentwood Hello.”

  He disappeared under the covers.

  * * *

  That night, the flatmates walked to the train for the concert. It was being held in Old Ticket Hall in Windsor, mere blocks from Windsor Castle, home of the royal family. One of the homes of the royal family. Eamonn had snuck into this venue many a time before he turned eighteen to listen to bands. He was fortunate to have a lookalike older cousin who wasn’t stingy with his ID.

  Everything was already off to a fantastic start. All of Eamonn’s favorite people were here. Heath and Louisa kept their distaste for each other on the back burner tonight for the sake of his birthday. And no Nathan, even though he knew Nathan was as much a fan of Bloc Party as himself.

  “Do you think they’ll play This Modern Love?” Heath asked him. He looked to Rafe. “It’s his favorite.”

  “I know that. Now,” Rafe said, squeezing Eamonn’s hand.

  “I’m keeping my fingers crossed for So Here We Are,” Louisa said.

  “It’s all right,” Heath said.

  “I reckon it’s more than all right,” she said back.

  Eamonn thought there was a spark of flirtation between them, but they went back to their détente. Rafe lingered when they got to the train station.

  “What are you looking at?” Eamonn asked.

  Rafe stared at something in the parking lot. “Do you see that jeep?”

  He walked up to it and peered in the window.

  “It’s not yours.”

  “The steering wheel is on the left side.” Rafe bent down in the front. “And there’s an American license plate. From North Carolina. That’s right by me!”

  “The guy must’ve had it shipped over from the states. Must be a pain in the arse driving that over here,” Heath said.

  “I never thought I’d get all mushy at the sight of an American car.” Rafe kept looking at the steering wheel like it was some national artifact. His face had a touch of melancholy. It was a brief rainstorm in the middle of this perfect day.

  “Come on.” Eamonn wrapped an arm around his waist and moved them to the sidewalk that led back to campus.

  He rubbed Rafe’s hand with his thumb, but he didn’t reciprocate.

  * * *

  The Old Ticket Hall was an intimate space where only a railing separated performers and concertgoers. It wasn’t commercialized and allowed Eamonn to feel like he was getting a private concert. His friends grabbed drinks and found a space to see the show.

  Louisa took out a small cookie from her pocket. She stuck a lit match in it. It was the closest he would get to a birthday cake, which was fine because he’d rather have birthday drinks.

  “Make a wish!” Louisa told him.

  Eamonn locked eyes with Rafe, knowing exactly what his wish was. Rafe smiled at him, but it seemed just a touch off. It was like looking at a completed jigsaw puzzle that had one piece missing.

  “I wish I had taken the train with you cunts.”

  Nathan joined their circle. His hair was mussed to perfection, and he wore a tight T-shirt that showed off his trim frame. Nathan had been making himself scarce since their talk at Apothecary. Perhaps he was spending time with Heath and Louisa separately, but Eamonn didn’t care to find out.

  “Good to see you, mate!” Heath said nervously.

  “What are you doing here?” Eamonn asked. He was the only one who could ask.

  “I’m a Bloc Party fan. We’ve gone to concerts together, listened to their music until the wee hours while we were intimate...I had a feeling you would be here, since it’s your birthday and all.” He threw an arm around Eamonn.

  The matchstick burned into the cookie. Eamonn threw it down and stomped on it before it could catch fire. He shrugged off Nathan’s arm and instantly scooped up Rafe’s hand in his own.

  “Who did you come here with?” Rafe asked.

  “Nobody. Thank you for making me feel bad about myself, Rafe.”

  “We’re celebrating here for Eamonn’s birthday.”

  “You’re really going to kick me out of your little circle, a circle made up of my friends? Rafe, you really need to learn to share.”

  Nathan began to walk away, and pissed Eamonn off to no end that he felt a sliver of guilt.

  “Nathan, get the fuck back here.” Eamonn was going to be the bigger person. Nathan couldn’t ruin this night for him. He had his favorite band and his favorite guy in one place. Nathan was just white noise.

  “Smashing. Now let’s get pissed!” Heath and Louisa went up to the bar and ordered the next round. Rafe dashed off to the loo. He gave Eamonn a look wondering if he’d be okay with Nathan. Eamonn had this.

  “I didn’t mean to ruin your night,” Nathan said, his tone now soft. “Remember when we went to Brighton last year for your birthday. We had sex on the beach and actual sex on the beach.”

  Sex on the beach in November was never a wise idea. They were not drunk enough for that. Eamonn found himself shaking his head.

  “You do remember.”

  “So. I do. It’s in the past.”

  “I know. It was a good day, though.”

  Pe
ople up front began clapping, which spread to their area. Eamonn knew what that meant. The band was about to go on any moment. It was infectious, the energy of the venue.

  “What song do you think they’ll start with?” Nathan asked.

  “Only He Can Heal Me,” they both answered.

  Eamonn did not find the moment cute. Most of Bloc Party’s concerts started with that song. Anyone remotely familiar with the band could’ve answered that way.

  “Relax, E. We still have something in common. It’s not the apocalypse.” Nathan clapped him on the shoulder. “Enjoying your final weeks with the Yank?”

  Nathan knew how to hit a nerve like a nurse giving an injection.

  “Rafe is the dog’s bollocks.” Eamonn chose his words carefully.

  “I think you’re falling for him, E. I warned you against this. It’s only going to end in tears.”

  It was a truth Eamonn wasn’t ready to face. He wanted to live in the present. He didn’t want to think about what his life was going to be like when Rafe left, when he joined his uncle’s company. Why was everyone so obsessed with the future?

  “However it ends, it’ll be better than finding him snogging some nobhead in the airport.” Eamonn got right in Nathan’s face, a face he once couldn’t stop kissing and now only disgusted him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but there is no future with us. When Rafe leaves and my heart breaks, at least I’ll know his is breaking, too.”

  “Your heart?” Nathan asked, a layer of sarcasm peeled away. “You really care about him.”

  “Yeah. I really fucking do.” The words rushed out, but they were not untrue. It felt good to say that, to let himself admit that his feelings went deep. Even if he was headed for a downfall, he’d enjoyed the ride down with Rafe.

  RAFE

  “You are not going to hurt Nathan. You are not going to make a scene. You are a classy-as-fuck, peaceful individual.” Rafe said this to himself as he walked back into the crowd. When he left the bathroom, he saw Eamonn and Nathan having a conversation. A pleasant-looking conversation. Nathan was being his charming, seductive, snakelike self. Eamonn was not stonewalling him. Maybe that was too much to ask, but for all Eamonn claimed he was done with Nathan, moments like this made Rafe have inklings of doubt. Like Coop said, this was war.