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Finally, Nico made room for him to squeeze past, flashing him an amused look.
Darren had taken one step toward escape when a throat cleared behind him.
He froze and slowly turned around.
Isaiah stood before him, a hundred questions brimming in his eyes—and something else, too.
Darren carded a hand through his hair. “Isaiah. I, um—”
Isaiah held up a finger, halting him, and glanced at Nico. “Can you give us a moment?”
Nico smirked as he sidled toward the aisle. “Remember we have to go out with your group. I’ll wait with the others. Don’t be too long.”
Isaiah’s heated gaze landed on Darren again, and Darren felt it shiver softly through him.
He glanced nervously toward the stage. The theater was emptying fast. “You played amazingly—”
Isaiah lurched forward and crushed his mouth firmly against Darren’s. Darren gasped, tasting the soft warmth of Isaiah’s bottom lip, and Isaiah jammed his body tight against his.
Darren stilled for a shocked second, and then moved. He curled his arms around Isaiah’s waist, pushing him harder against him. A hard, eager kiss, like he’d fantasized about a thousand times.
Isaiah’s lips parted, and Darren pushed his tongue in, sliding it against Isaiah’s.
His body rippled with electric shivers. He poured all the weeks of flirting and wanting into the kiss.
Isaiah framed Darren’s face, his hands urgent against his jaw as he pulled them closer. Darren sank against him, grinding against Isaiah’s equally hard cock.
Isaiah moaned, and Darren sucked it in greedily, as if he could swallow the feeling. He wanted the kiss to last forever. Wanted more. But a clatter from the stage reminded Darren they weren’t alone.
They broke the kiss, and Darren felt the loss.
“I’ve wanted to do that so many times,” Isaiah said. “You kiss way better than I’d hoped. Thank you for getting Mom her room.”
“You’re not mad?”
“I mean, I was when I first heard—but it meant Mom could stay and see me play. Something she hasn’t been able to do for two years. She came last night to our rehearsal.” He kissed him again. Shorter, but still amazing. “And that’s for you coming to see me play.”
“I freaked out that it might be stalkerish. I didn’t ask, so . . .”
“Is that why you were trying to run away?”
Darren winced and chuckled. “Maybe?”
“You listened to me play. I love that.”
Darren leaned closer and found Isaiah’s lips. “You’re amazing.”
Isaiah swayed, and their hard-ons combed across each other. The sensation pushed Darren closer to the edge. He drew back an inch, so he could still feel the heat of Isaiah’s body.
“I want you,” Isaiah murmured. “I want more . . . I want to hold your hand . . ., kiss you . . ., feel you hold me.”
The kiss, whisper, kiss conversation drove Darren crazy. He wanted privacy so he could push Isaiah back on the bed, strip his clothes off, and lick every inch of him.
“Oh God.” Darren shuddered. “Stop or I’ll have to change before I can leave.”
Isaiah giggled and nipped a last kiss.
Darren grabbed his hand, sliding their fingers together. It felt new, and decidedly erotic.
Isaiah wanted him. Isaiah had wanted to kiss him for a long time.
Things might be tricky, but God, this felt too good to give a damn.
Isaiah
Isaiah joined the crowd as they surged to their feet, screaming encouragement to the Harrison soccer team.
Darren streaked up the field, chasing a perfect pass from a teammate. His two goals had Harrison ahead, and a third would seal the win over their biggest league rival.
Isaiah sat next to Jack, surrounded by practically everyone else in the Pi Kappa Phi house who’d came out to support Darren. And holy shit, they were loud.
The entire crowd chanted “Dar-ren-Gage” after each goal. When Darren got fouled, they led the chorus of boos. In between, they cheered him on every time he touched the ball.
Jack told him who they were playing, but Isaiah hadn’t paid attention because he was watching Darren warm up. It gave him a chill when he used some of the moves Isaiah taught him during their yoga class. The only thing he remembered was that Harrison’s opponent was the second-best team in the league and had lost to Harrison in last year’s final.
Hearing Darren’s brothers cheer him on gave Isaiah a rush. They were cheering for his guy. He and Darren hadn’t said anything or made it official, whatever that meant, but Darren was his. At least that’s how Isaiah felt. Judging by Darren’s reactions on Thursday and their texts and phone calls since, Darren felt the same.
The crowd deflated as the keeper stopped what should have been Darren’s third goal. His guy leaned over, hands on his knees, to catch his breath. At least, that was what Isaiah thought. When the keeper tried to bring the ball out, Darren turned, strong as ever, and forced an errant kick that went out of bounds.
“Smart play,” Jack said as Harrison lined up for the throw in.
“Big D is crushing it,” Bill—or was it Billy?—said. “You’d think they’d put someone to shadow him.”
“Last time they did that, Harrison nearly scored. We’re too good for them,” someone else answered.
Isaiah agreed—Darren was that good. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Sweaty, flushed, decked in his blue Harrison uniform, he looked like a poster for Harrison’s soccer team. His poster boy.
His. Like it was a fait accompli already. Hell, they’d kissed once. It was a wonderful kiss, but that was all. Isaiah wanted so much more. Wanted to show Darren just how much he wanted him. And if all goes—
Darren went down in a heap, his legs taken out from behind by one of the other team’s defenders. The crowd roared in anger and jumped up.
Isaiah called his name and strained to get a better view.
“Those assholes,” Jack’s brother, Marcus, said. “They just put that guy in the game to take Darren out.”
“What?” Isaiah asked.
“Marcus is right,” Jack said. “That guy must be a scrub. He hasn’t played all game. See how clean his uniform is? Fuckers put him in to hurt Darren.”
“Hurt him?” He strained to look over the crowd. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.” Jack stared at him for a second and turned back to the field. “He’s up already.”
Darren was on his feet, being held by two of his teammates. The crowd was still booing and shouting at the player from the other team. Isaiah hadn’t seen Darren mad often, and nothing like this. A third teammate ran up and grabbed Darren’s face in his hands. He shook him, yelling at him to stop.
“Stand down, Gage! Stand down!” the coach shouted.
“Why is our team mad at Darren?” Isaiah asked.
“They’re not mad, they’re trying to calm him down so he doesn’t retaliate and get tossed,” Marcus said. “Which was probably Kutztown’s plan B if the tackle didn’t take him out.”
Darren threw up his hands and walked away. His teammate shadowed him, but Darren didn’t try to go back. Isaiah’s heart dropped back into place, and he kept watching his guy.
The crowd cheered, and Isaiah tore his attention from Darren and turned where everyone else was looking. The referee was in the face of the guy who tackled Darren and held up a red card. A louder roar erupted, followed by taunting of the ejected player with an off-key modified “nah, nah, nah, hey, hey, hey goodbye.”
One of the frat brothers shouted to Darren, and he turned toward them. He smiled and waved.
He froze as he locked gazes with Isaiah. Darren’s eyes widened, followed by a full-face grin. He pointed with two fingers just before his teammates pulled him toward an on-field huddle.
The crowd settled back as the referee set the ball for a free kick. Isaiah kept his attention on Darren—until he caught Jack staring at him from the corner of his eye.
He turned, not sure what to expect.
Jack’s brow was furrowed as he looked back toward the players in the huddle. When Darren snuck a glance at Isaiah, Jack turned too. His lips twisted into a smirk, and he raised an eyebrow as Isaiah felt his face flush.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said in a knowing way. He chuckled and turned back to the game.
Isaiah was annoyed at first, but he had nothing to be ashamed of. He absolutely wasn’t embarrassed that he liked Darren. In fact—
“Go, Darren!” he shouted just as his guy launched the ball toward his teammates massing in front of the enemy goal.
The brothers of Pi Kappa Phi flooded the paths leading back to their house, and Isaiah got swept up in their euphoria. Darren got his hat trick, making them pay for the cheap shot they’d taken at him. Harrison had won 4-1.
When time expired, Darren was mobbed, doused in Gatorade, and back-slapped into tomorrow by his raucous teammates. Watching how alive Darren was when he could be true to himself gave Isaiah a pang of regret. Darren only let this side of him out on rare occasions. In a weird, possessive way, it felt like he only showed that face to Isaiah. His guy, his face.
But it reminded Isaiah how much hurt, disappointment, and wariness Darren kept bottled up. He wanted to siphon all that negativity away. Darren deserved a happy life.
His brothers stormed the bleacher railing to scream his name at the end of the game. The initial shock on his face surprised Isaiah. They clearly wanted the world to know he was one of them.
When he asked, Jack told him the fraternity hadn’t really supported him until recently. Being in Harper’s orbit had turned off most everyone. Now, however, uncoupled from the negativity, Darren had earned their support and friendship.
Singing and joking, they arrived at the frat house. Jack and Marcus barked orders, and the brothers ran around setting up for an impromptu party in Darren’s honor. Isaiah sat on an out of the way bench as they worked swiftly and with a practiced ease putting up tables and setting large plastic bowls on the ends. The ubiquitous red cups appeared, and Jack gave Marcus some cash before he and three brothers took off.
“Food run,” Jack said when he sat next to Isaiah. “So, you and Darren?”
“It sort of just happened.”
“Yep, it does.”
“I mean, it’s crazy. We’re fighting each other for the program, but . . .”
“I get it. Ed broke some of my most basic rules and I still couldn’t walk away.”
“Rules?”
Jack held up his left index finger and tapped it with his right. “He wasn’t out. There were places I had to pretend I was straight—that was a huge no-no for me. Third, I didn’t want to be someone’s first boyfriend.”
“That’s cracked. Someone’s gotta be someone’s first.”
“I get it, but I want to be someone’s forever. Firsts rarely last.”
Isaiah kinda understood that, but it happened all the time that people spent their life with their first love. “Yet you went out with him anyway.”
Jack shrugged. “Like I said, I couldn’t walk away. You staying to celebrate?”
“I don’t want to interfere with bonding time.”
Jack put a hand on Isaiah’s shoulder before he could stand. “I’m reasonably certain Darren would rather have you here than anyone else.”
“I’ll be the only one who isn’t in the fraternity.”
“Nah, it’s a party, not a secret fraternity ceremony. Ed’s coming too. Any minute.”
“You sure I can stay?”
“Absolutely.” Voices trailed from the entranceway, and Jack’s gaze cut sharply across the room. A brilliant smile hit his face. “There’s my man.”
Jack shot across the room, and Isaiah grinned as Ed caught Jack’s lunge and laughed into a kiss. Their affection was palpable from across the room, and Isaiah hoped he might be so lucky.
Chapter Nineteen
Isaiah
Isaiah was nervous.
What if Darren didn’t want him inserting himself into this part of his life? What if hanging out here was moving too fast?
Music blasted through the room, and Isaiah suddenly wished he could melt into the wall. He was assuming too much.
Shit, he should have left.
Darren entered the room and halted. Confusion crossed his face as he took in the common room.
“Dar-ren Gage! Dar-ren Gage.” The house filled with the chant.
A blush crept up Darren’s neck. He smiled broadly as his brothers surrounded him. Through the press of bodies, Darren poked his head up and flashed those hot-as-fuck dimples at Isaiah.
One of the guys noticed, and suddenly Darren was being shuttled toward Isaiah.
Darren chuckled. “Should I apologize for you getting dragged into the chaos?”
Isaiah laughed. “My mistake was sitting with Jack at the game. I can’t escape now. Not that I want to.”
Darren grinned and dropped his bag against the wall. “I’m glad you got swept up with the pack.”
“You were great out there today.” Isaiah wanted to kiss him, but he had no idea how it would go over with all his brothers around. “I can’t believe they sent that guy in to hurt you.”
“It happens.” Darren inched closer, gaze flickering to Isaiah’s mouth. He leaned in and his breath tickled Isaiah’s cheek. “Am I allowed to kiss you?”
Isaiah swallowed. He hadn’t expected Darren would be into public displays. Particularly in a house full of frat guys.
Isaiah tilted his face to Darren’s. Their gazes caught, and Darren brushed a kiss over his lips.
A cheer erupted from the room, and Darren slowly pulled back. His eyes twinkled with a smile.
“How long do you need to stay?” Isaiah whispered huskily.
Darren’s eyes flashed. “Give me half an hour.”
Darren
It took an hour before Darren could break free and sling himself into the shower.
He scrubbed himself head to toe—twice—in record time, and dressed without preamble. He packed a bag, freed Isaiah from some mundane conversation, and snuck out of the house.
Darren linked their fingers and tugged Isaiah close. Their shoulders bumped, and Isaiah squeezed his hand gently. “You’re okay walking like this?”
Darren slowed his step. “I’m sorry, Isaiah. I just assumed you’d be okay with it.”
He tried to get his hand free, but Isaiah gripped it tighter. “It’s more than okay, it’s awesome. I was just surprised, I guess.”
“My fraternity brothers know, my teammates know, and my family knows. Who else matters enough for me to hide it? Besides—” Darren pulled their hands up and kissed the back of Isaiah’s. “—I want people to see how lucky I am that I’m with you.”
“No one on campus is going to think you’re the lucky one.”
“I do.” Darren bumped their shoulders. “And I am.”
Isaiah pulled them to a stop. A breeze pushed strands of hair into Isaiah’s face, and Darren tucked them back behind his ear. “Are you okay?”
“I really need to kiss you,” Isaiah murmured. “Right now.”
Darren lit up inside with a grin that ballooned into a full-bodied smile as Isaiah slammed their faces together. A laugh bubbled up, and Darren wrapped his arms tight around Isaiah and kissed him back.
Isaiah crushed against him, and his tongue teased Darren’s lips apart. He tasted subtly of sugared lemon—the bars at the party—and Darren nibbled on Isaiah’s bottom lip before diving into his mouth again.
He vaguely noticed his bag was slipping from his shoulder, but he didn’t care. Couldn’t. He leaned into Isaiah’s warm, fresh scent, wanting, wanting—
“Let’s get to my room,” Isaiah whispered against his wet lips. His eyes held a question, and Darren swallowed a flash of nervousness and nodded. He let Isaiah draw his bag off, and then strong, lean fingers curled tightly around his, tugging him urgently across campus.
Sunny
brick campus buildings and neat lawns seemed to blur around them, Darren’s focus one hundred percent on Isaiah’s tied-back hair. The stray lock that had escaped and fluttered in their haste. He wanted to thread his fingers in that hair and feel it knot around his fist as they . . .
Isaiah looked over his shoulder and winked.
Holy shit. This was really happening.
About a million fantasies collided with a thousand insecurities, one begging to be asked. No matter how redundant. He just—he needed to know. . . .
We are together, right?
He opened his mouth to ask, but he couldn’t. “How far is it to your room?”
Isaiah laughed. “Easy, big guy, we’ll be there in a minute.”
Despite his bold words, walking into the dorm holding a guy’s hand had Darren’s nerves hopping. Especially when the security guard’s eye zeroed in on their connection. Not that he cared who knew, but it was something to get used to.
Isaiah jerked him past the elevator. “Stairs. Faster. It’s only one flight.”
Darren laughed, ebbing the spike of tension. He chased Isaiah up the stairs, grabbing a handful of Isaiah’s firm ass on their way up. At the landing, Darren stopped Isaiah from opening the door, crowding him against the wooden surface.
Isaiah twisted and rocked up a brow.
Darren should ask him now. This means, like really means, we’re together, yeah?
But what if it didn’t quite mean that? What if Darren had missed something?
Christ, Isaiah kept eyeing his lips like he wanted them on him. Everywhere.
Darren crushed their lips together, pressing him tight against the door. Isaiah’s thigh was a hot brand against his groin, and Isaiah flexed like he knew just how good it felt. A groan seeped out of him against Isaiah’s lazily sliding tongue.
“So fucking hot for you, Isaiah.”
Isaiah shivered under him. “Then let’s stop . . . kissing . . . here.” He playfully shoved Darren back and pulled him through the door.
There was no need to guess which room was Isaiah’s. An entire tie rack had been looped around a single doorknob halfway down the hall.