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  “Not to sound all competitive,” Luke said, voice creamy and deep, “but that was the day my ex dumped me . . . in an email.”

  “An email?”

  “I was taking a walk after reading it. A grumpy stomp, if we’re being accurate.”

  Nico raised his hands. “You win the shittiest day contest.”

  “An award I could’ve lived without.”

  “Don’t try to pawn it off on me. I win it often enough.”

  They laughed, and some of the awkwardness dissipated. Not enough that Nico forgot the look Luke had given him when they first met, but enough to settle into the conversation.

  Luke regarded Nico, eyes roaming his face. Nico shivered under it, battling the wave of inferiority that rushed up his chest. So what if Luke didn’t like what he saw?

  They were there about a room, not anything else.

  Luke’s gaze narrowed on Nico’s lips, and Nico wished he could rewind that afternoon on the phone with Elisa. Wished he hadn’t been quite so dramatic. Wished he’d said something that Luke might have grinned at . . .

  Nico glanced away from him, struggling to keep the emotion off his face. The disappointment.

  “Can we start this over?” Luke held out his hand. “Lucas DeRosa. Luke.”

  Nico swallowed. “Nico Amato . . . Nicodemo really, but please, do not call me that. My mother uses it when she’s mad.”

  Another smile.

  Fuck, those were going to be problematic.

  “Sure. I’ll stick with Nico.” Luke removed the Harrison Baseball cap and ran his hand up and down the back of his head. “So this roommate thing . . .”

  “Yeah . . .”

  “Here’s the thing, I really need a roommate this summer and you were . . . are the only one who responded that could possibly work. Do you want to talk or do we pick up our bat and ball and go home?”

  Instinct told Nico to take the opening Luke gave him and leave. They’d gone from sure they were compatible to “might possibly work” in three minutes. If he signed the lease, they’d be stuck together all summer.

  Could he really blame their rocky in-person start on them both having craptastic days right before they met?

  Nico wanted to, but was that his dick talking?

  A pulsation from his watch reminded him he needed to answer Elisa. He gnawed his lip and threw himself in the fire. “Yeah, okay. Let’s give this a shot.”

  Chapter Four

  Nico

  Nico stared at the lit-up Pi Zeta Eta house. Music and the booming chant of a couple dozen jocks made the path vibrate. Isaiah squished his nose in distaste, and Nico was almost sorry he’d dragged him here. Almost.

  Nico had insisted Isaiah come along, laughing that it’d be shits and giggles. Just a quick mission in and out to retrieve his portable charger. Tomas knew he was coming for it.

  Really, Nico had towed him there for moral support, because looking at the monster frat house reminded Nico of his place. Or better said, reminded him where his place wasn’t.

  Jocks didn’t like him. Didn’t get him. Never would.

  “You sure this is a good idea?” Isaiah asked warily.

  “If I don’t get it back today, he’ll need to send it to me. Which I know he’d never do. So.”

  “Yeah, but it’s just a portable charger.”

  “I paid over a hundred dollars for it.”

  “Right, but you barely used it before you loaned it to Tomas. Why the burning need to get it back now?”

  “I loaned it to him when we were together. Me and my stuff are a package deal. You don’t get to keep my things if you break up with me.”

  “So, it’s the principle.”

  That sounded better than because he’d seen Tomas laughing with his mates at the cafeteria and had the petty urge to wipe at least half the smirk off his face. Seriously, why did Nico have to be the only one who felt like shit? “Exactly.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Was he? Probably not, but . . . “He didn’t want me, ’Saiah.”

  Isaiah sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Let’s get your charger back so you can move on.”

  They approached the door and the frat dudes vaping beside it. Nico’s step slowed, nervousness swirling in his stomach as they entered.

  Nico scanned the common area. Isaiah elbowed him and pointed toward the kitchen. “He’s there.”

  And there Tomas was. In the narrow hallway, leaned back against the wall, ubiquitous red plastic cup in hand. He was chatting with a tall, blond preppy guy, their smiles more than frat-brotherly.

  Tomas laughed, chin lifting, and his gaze snagged onto Nico. His smile faded.

  Nico straightened, held his head high, and strode over. “Do you have it?”

  Terse and rude, but it fit his mood. Tomas couldn’t wait fifteen minutes to start flirting?

  “It’s on my desk.” He shooed Nico toward Isaiah. “I’ll get it in a minute.”

  “Oh, heavens no, dear. I wouldn’t want you to exert yourself. I know the way.” Before Tomas could answer, he herded Isaiah toward the stairs.

  “You dated him?” Tomas’s preppy guy asked, derision dripping from his voice.

  “He thought we were dating,” Tomas said. “But you know me. I don’t go for guys like that.”

  A snigger. “Yeah, I couldn’t see it.”

  Nico clenched his jaw to keep from shouting you went for me well enough when my cock was in your ass.

  He felt Isaiah’s hand on his lower back. “Stick to the plan.”

  “Right.” Nico tore his gaze from the hall and led them to Tomas’s room.

  As promised, the charger sat in plain view on the desk. Snatching it wasn’t as satisfying at Nico had hoped.

  Fighting back tears, he scooped up a black Sharpie from the desk, walked over to Tomas’s bed, spun the pillow around, and uncapped the marker.

  “Nico!” Isaiah hissed from the doorway, glancing left and right. “What are you doing?”

  “Closure.”

  “Closure?”

  Nico scrawled, We dated! Fucker! on the white background. He underlined the last word three times, capped the pen, and tossed it on the bed. “Now, we can go.”

  I don’t go for guys like that.

  That summed up his entire dating life.

  No matter how great he was in bed, no matter how much he cared, all guys judged him for his campy outbursts.

  He was sick of it.

  Nico dashed a hand over his burning eyes and bowed deeper into his closet to avoid Isaiah spotting him.

  He’d had a night to get over the moment with Tomas yesterday, he should be fine by now. Should’ve pushed it aside . . .

  Nico fingered the sleeve of his slim-fit mulberry velvet jacket. Rubbed the stretchy tapered pants that looked fantastic with his Berluti shoes.

  Was it over the top?

  Maybe pride kept him from listening to the truth. He was too much.

  If he toned it down, just a bit, acted more like the everyday man . . . maybe he’d have more luck. In life, and in love.

  Nico shut the closet and grabbed his car keys. He had a wardrobe to update.

  Nico: Packed. OMW.

  Luke: I’m ready. Game sucks. We’re losing.

  Nico: There’s always a next game.

  Nico’s phone bounced in his pocket as he hopped up the steps.

  Why did guys like cargo shorts so much? Maybe he shouldn’t have put so much stuff in his pockets. But what was the point of having them if you didn’t use them?

  Ugh, he’d never felt so uncomfortable and bulky.

  A cheer erupted from the house, and someone shouted, “Go!”

  Nico knocked, but no one heard him over the noise. The door opened with a testing push, and he poked his head inside. An odd assortment of gym bags, a suitcase, and a suit carrier sat inside the otherwise empty foyer.

  He entered and shut the door, hard enough to say “hello.” As if on cue, Luke appeared in casual shorts and a loose T-s
hirt.

  His eyes shone with a smile the moment he saw Nico, and Nico reined in the desire to toss out a flirty hello. He settled on a small dude-like grin with an accompanying half-nod to match his appearance.

  Luke gestured Nico to join him in the living room. “Can we finish watching the game? It’s bottom of the ninth and the Phillies are rallying against the Nats.”

  “Umm . . . okay, but I think I’m illegally parked.”

  “Don’t worry. Campus cops don’t bother anyone unless we call. Besides, this shouldn’t take long.”

  Luke’s gaze roamed over Nico’s attire, and his brow quivered.

  The look was better than the one Luke had cast him that first day. This look was baffled, surprised, and definitely curious.

  Nico would take it.

  He followed Luke inside the living area to the back of a couch seating three other guys. Guys who looked like they’d either just gotten up, been drinking since noon, or some combination of both.

  The batter got a hit, and Luke and his friends started shouting at the players on base to run. A coach was waving his arms wildly, and the player rounded the bag and sped past.

  “Oh, shit!” someone shouted. “It’s gonna be close!”

  The catcher got the ball on one hop, and the base runner plowed into him. When the umpire made a punching motion with his right hand, Luke and the others groaned.

  “Son of a bitch, Soto’s got a cannon!” Luke said.

  “Fuckin’ right. I can’t believe he threw out Segura.”

  “Did your team lose?” Nico asked, stepping up to Luke, trying to sound interested.

  Luke shook his head. “Segura was the winning run. It’s tied.”

  “So is it going to overtime?”

  “Extra innings, yeah.” Luke glanced toward a lazily grinning guy with sinfully toned arms on his other side. “Nico, this is my roommate and best friend, Coury.”

  Coury scanned Nico and held out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. You’re a life saver for Luke after the dickwad who-shall-not-be-named screwed him over.”

  “This works out well for me after the douchenozzle who-shall-not-be-named fucked me over.”

  Coury snorted and smacked Luke approvingly on the back. “Luke told me. Sorry to hear it.”

  “It’s old news.” Nico nodded toward the television. “Did you want to stay and watch the end?”

  “You don’t mind?” Luke’s eyes sparked with gratitude—and who the hell could say no to that.

  “We don’t have a schedule to keep.” Nico fished his keys out of his pocket. “Let me move my car while they do the coin toss thingy.”

  “Coin toss?” Coury asked with a baffled frown.

  Nico winced. “To see who goes first in extra innings?”

  The two guys Nico hadn’t met snickered. That sounded about right.

  Luke guided Nico toward the door, a soft grin twitching his lips. He spoke low. “They don’t do a coin toss in baseball. That’s football. The away team hits in the top of the inning and the home team gets last ups.”

  Nico’s face burned, and he cast his gaze to the floorboards. “Right. Sorry.”

  “Don’t sweat it.” Luke gently shoulder-nudged him into the foyer. “Let me put my stuff in your car, and we can come in and watch the end of the game. If it drags, we’ll leave.”

  Nico swallowed. “Sure.”

  Luke’s gaze scrolled over Nico’s face, and he hefted his bags over his shoulder. “Know what? Let’s just leave.”

  Luke

  Coury: Bottom 14th. Glad we don’t need a coin toss after each inning.

  Luke: Don’t be a douche. Nico’s cool. Tom and

  Miles were dicks to laugh.

  Coury: Yeah, but it was funny.

  Luke: No. It wasn’t.

  Luke pushed his phone into his pocket. “Good thing we left. Game’s still going.”

  “Did you want to listen to it? I’m pretty sure the satellite radio gets all the games.”

  “Thanks, but I doubt you’re interested.” Luke avoided looking over. “We can listen to whatever you like.”

  “What gave away my lack of baseball acumen? Overtime or the coin toss?” Nico snuck a glance at Luke and made a self-deprecating face.

  “Both?” Luke grinned. “It’s all good. I guess that makes you a football fan.”

  “Only if you mean English football.” Nico tapped a button and the radio came to life. “Ask me about soccer and I’m good. Everything else? I’m only there to stare at the hot guys.”

  “Did you play?” Luke raked his eyes over Nico’s body, reading it like it might give him the answer.

  Nico wore shorts, revealing toned legs, and a T-shirt that showed off a tapered body. He clearly worked out somehow.

  His dark hair was neatly styled—the only thing about his appearance that resembled the Nico he’d met twice before. It looked good on him, swept back. Gave his big brown eyes more room to show off—damn, he had nice ones.

  Nico caught him looking and shifted. “Pretty much played since I could walk. Papà played in college and then in a men’s league in Brooklyn. When my older brother was born, he coached. He’s a referee now. My nonno—grandfather—refereed for forty years—and I’m babbling.”

  Luke laughed. “I think it’s cool your family is so into soccer. How come you don’t play for Harrison?”

  Nico returned his gaze to the road, voice quieter. Sadder. “My teammates in high school made it clear they didn’t want a fag on the team, so I stopped playing.”

  The fuck? “They got away with that?” Luke gritted his teeth. Sometimes he hated the world. “If you don’t want to talk about it, I get it. I can’t believe the school let them do that. Harrison wouldn’t.”

  Which was a good thing for Luke. He loved baseball.

  “I never told anyone at the school,” Nico said softly. “I just quit after coming out. Like they wanted.”

  Luke swallowed. “Sorry coming out cost you something you loved, but I admire your courage. I wasn’t secure enough to come out until after I graduated.”

  Nico’s grip on the steering wheel made the leather creak. “Elisa, my sister, wanted me to report it to the school, but that would’ve been pointless.”

  “Really? Your school didn’t have a no-discrimination policy?”

  “They did, but . . . well, you know. There’s one set of rules for most of us, and one for those whose parents have ginormous bank accounts.”

  Luke nodded. Harrison had some of that. “So you’re one of the have-nots, like me.”

  “I guess. I mean, my family is well off, but nothing close to qualifying for the unwritten rules.”

  “Sorry. Again.”

  “Yeah, me too. Mostly because I should have said fuck it and pushed back. Like Isaiah did.”

  “Your roommate? What’d he do?”

  A smile softened Nico’s face. “He fought back. Harrison was going to give the Gage Scholar award to Darren Gage, whose great-something-grandfather founded the school and the program. Isaiah filed a grievance and it was granted.”

  “Did he get the scholarship?”

  “He got something, alright.” Nico laughed.

  Luke liked amused Nico more than the angsty version. “You’re totally gonna need to explain that.”

  Nico gave Luke a wonderfully detailed retelling of Isaiah’s story. Which turned out to be quite the romance. “. . . they’re so sweetly in love I might get diabetes just from sharing their story with you.”

  “Might get it from hearing it, too.”

  Nico glanced at Luke, those brown eyes skating over his face, and Luke squirmed. Did Nico hear the jealousy in his voice? Could he see how hurt he still was over Kent? Could he see how much Luke wanted to rewind the last six months and do things differently? Figure out where he went wrong?

  Luke rubbed his nape, and Nico’s smile dissipated. “I love their story, but it makes me wish I’d made better decisions. I’m working on not making that mistake again.”
/>
  “Amen!” Luke pumped up his hands, startling Nico into a laugh.

  “Oh, lord help me.” Nico snapped a hand over his heart. “What about you? No coming out horror stories?”

  “Iowa isn’t the worst place for gay rights. I mean, we were one of the first to approve gay marriage, but I didn’t have confidence it would go well. Especially with my teammates.”

  “Yep.” Nico pointed to himself. “Living proof that teammates can suck. So when did you come out?”

  “Told my parents after I graduated, Coury first day on campus—he was my roommate—and the team just before spring training started.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Better than I expected. We had workouts all fall semester, and Coury and I both figured Dustin, the team captain, wouldn’t freak out, so I told him. As we expected, he was cool about it. He even helped me come out to the rest of the team.”

  “He told them?”

  Luke snorted. “No, that’s a chickenshit way to do it. At our first team meeting, he had everyone tell the others something personal. Mine was to tell them I was gay.”

  “Holy Mary, Mother of God! I’d have passed out if I had to do that.”

  “Yeah, I almost puked waiting for my turn.” Two years later, it still made him sweat. “Then I blurted out, ‘I’m gay’ when they got to me. Dustin asked if anyone had a problem with it. No one said anything. Having his support really made a difference.”

  “Dustin sounds like a great guy.”

  “He is.” Luke’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out. “Coury must be giving me an update.”

  “Seriously, we can listen to the game it you like.”

  “Maybe, let me see if it’s still—” Oh. Not from Coury.

  “Still what?” Nico looked over. “I take it that’s not about the game.”