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Pete. And he was still in the pub, if the background noise was any indication.
“Sorry. I, uh, had something to do.” Niccolò raised a brow, and I placed a finger to his lips. He licked it, and then laughed quietly when I pulled a face while trying my hardest not to smile, yanking my finger away from his mouth.
“You have to come, man. I’m on my own here. I mean, I’m the only new one.”
Oh. Yeah. We were the two new players on the first team, and although I didn’t actually know Pete all that well, we’d played together since the beginning of the semester.
Niccolò tapped my bicep, clearly hearing Pete’s words, thanks to the fact that we were so close, and Pete was almost shouting to be heard over the background noise.I should go, he mouthed. I shook my head, but he began backing away from me.
Holding up my hand in a gesture to tell him to wait, I told Pete I was on my way. But he slipped out of the study carrell, leaving me alone. Disappointment curled low in my stomach.
I guess I was just another blip on his radar.
It was probably for the best.
That was what I told myself, anyway.
CHAPTERFOUR
Niccolò
Hitting the timer on the camera, I sprawled on my stomach on my bed, pushing my ass in the air for maximum effect. My curls were perfectly mussed and shiny, and the light lip gloss I’d applied made my lips look plump and kissable. I knew that the white bedsheets were the perfect contrast to my tanned skin, and the whole aesthetic was going to make this a fucking hot photoshoot.
But as I pouted slightly for the camera, I couldn’t seem to summon up my usual enthusiasm. This was not good. I relied on the money my FanBoyzOnly account brought in to pay my way through uni, topping up my student loan because my parents didn’t have the money to spare. I huffed, annoyed with myself, and that was when the camera clicked. Because of course it did. Stupid camera.
Rolling off the bed, I stomped over to the camera, and sure enough, it had captured me mid-huff. Stabbing at the Delete button, I wiped all traces of my mini breakdown from memory. I yanked my bedroom door open, shouting into the hallway.
“Dexter! I need you!”
A moment later, there was a bang, and my housemate appeared in his bedroom doorway, rubbing at his eyes and yawning. “What the fuck is the emergency? I’ve only had two hours of sleep because the fucking shoot ran so late.”
“I need your help. Please. Pleeeease.” I batted my lashes at him, and he groaned.
“Fine, I’m coming. Give me a second to wake up properly. And I want you to take a vow of silence after I’ve finished helping you with whatever it is. I need sleep. A lot of it.”
“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse. Which is a weird saying, when you think about it, because mice make all kinds of scratching and squeaking noises.”
Dexter ignored my mouse comment, sauntering past me into my room. I took a moment to appreciate the sight of his body dressed in nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs, because, hello, I had eyes. And my eyes liked looking at pretty things. We should all be nicer to our eyes and let them view all the pretty things, in my opinion.
He stopped in the middle of the room, taking in my setup. “What do you need me for?”
“I need you to motivate me for my photoshoot. I can’t seem…” Trailing off with a huff of breath, I shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I can’t find the enthusiasm.”
“Okay.” Without missing a beat, he lifted my camera from its stand, holding it in one hand and angling the ring light with the other. “White jockstrap. White socks. Hands on the wall, looking over your shoulder. Ass out, leg arched.”
I followed his instructions, already feeling better. Dex was another one of my besties, and as well as that, he was a porn actor, working at an actual studio. So he knew things. Lots of things about posing and lighting and angles.
“Hold it there. Don’t turn your head that far…yeah, that’s it. Nice.” He snapped a couple of photos and then studied the camera. “Okay. Now lose the jock, but keep the socks on. Fucking hot.”
“You think so?” I knew I was, but I liked the confirmation. He just rolled his eyes at me in reply, though.
“Over to the bed, now. We want to go for cute, corruptible boy-next-door look. The kind of boy you’d be happy to take home to your parents, and they’d have no clue that really you were a depraved little fucker.”
“Hey! I’m not depraved. I’m very cute and corruptible.” Climbing onto the bed on my hands and knees, I glanced back at Dexter over my shoulder. “Speaking of parents, I hope that none of my family members ever stumble across my photos. They’d disown me.”
There was a flash of sympathy on Dexter’s face, but it was gone almost as soon as it arrived. He knew I didn’t need it. “They wouldn’t really disown you, babe. Arch your back a bit… Yeah, nice. Hold that pose.”
“I know they wouldn’t really,” I mumbled. “You know what they can be like, though. They don’t approve of the methods I choose to pay my way through uni. Or the way I dress and act, for that matter.” It wasn’t like they didn’t love me, because they did…they just had trouble accepting certain things about me—although not the fact that I was gay, at least. Part of that was thanks to my two older brothers, who’d immediately made it crystal clear that I had their full support when thirteen-year-old me had announced to everyone that I was one hundred percent gay during a family Sunday dinner.
