Karter let out a ragged breath, his fingers curling tightly around my thick dick.
CRASH.
The sound of slamming metal echoed from the front of the room. The double doors groaned open, and the screech of a book cart’s broken wheel ripped through the dead air of the sub-basement.
Ice water dumped over my entire body. My heart rate spiked wildly against my ribs. Detroit, my mother’s unpaid bills, and the threat of losing my scholarship crashed over my arousal.
My stomach dropped out. I backed off Karter like I’d been burned, tucked my dick away, and dragged my zipper back up with shaking hands. The squeal of that book cart was the sound of my entire life collapsing.
If we were caught, there would be no second chances. Just a revoked scholarship, a mother I couldn’t look in the eye, and a one-way ticket back to a neighborhood I had literally bled to escape.
I tried to calm my rapid breathing as I intently tracked the squeaking wheel rolling closer to our aisle.
Karter, meanwhile, stayed pinned against the bookshelf, his breathing fast and shallow. He looked terrified, but seeing the panic in his eyes just made my stomach turn.
We weren’t risking the same thing. His father’s money would quietly buy Karter out of any scandal. But I would be the one taking the fall for both of us.
The glaring difference between his safety net and my reality made me sick.
Stepping out of the aisle, I snatched my backpack off the floor by our table, my fingers locking around the nylon strap.
“Not. Fucking. Happening,” I snapped. Making my voice harsh hid the violent shaking in my hands.
Karter blinked. His empty hand reached out. “Aleksey, wait.”
“No.” Retreating a quick step toward the end of the row felt like the only option. “Youcan afford to get caught. I can’t.”
“Nobody is getting caught,” he whispered. He glanced toward the main aisle. “Stay here.”
“I’m not doing this.” My glare locked onto his face. “I’m not wrecking my life for someone who doesn’t understand what it costs.”
I turned my back on him and walked away. Ducking out the far end of the aisle, I slipped between the shelves just a second before the librarian pushed her cart into our row. I kept my head down, striding past the empty study tables and hitting the sub-basement stairs two at a time.
My boots echoed in the stairwell, but I didn’t slow down. I crossed the main lobby in a blur and threw my weight against the exit doors, shoving them open into the freezing winter night.
The biting wind stung my face, but the sharp taste of copper and the dull ache in my split lip lingered all the way back to the Ice House.
Chapter 7 - Karter
The teeth marks on my neck were a problem. The text glowing on my phone was worse.
I was still half-asleep when I blindly dug my phone out of the jeans I’d discarded on the floor. The drafty attic of The Ice House was freezing; the corner heater rattled as it pushed out a pathetic stream of air, but the cold barely registered. My back still ached from the hard bookshelves... and the lingering reminder of Aleksey’s hands. Then the screen illuminated my palm, pulling me out of the memory.
The bright screen lit up the dark room. Yet another text message from my dad had come through late last night.
Scouts are confirmed for the U.P. tournament. Elliot said your passing was sloppy yesterday. Focus. Don’t embarrass the family.
I read the words twice, my thumb hovering over the screen.‘Don’t embarrass the family’.Usually, I just went along with him. It was easier to play the good son than to push back against pressure from my dad.
I tossed the phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce against the sheets. The numbness I’d perfected for years felt shattered this morning. My dad’s pristine world didn’t register at all against the raw, messy reality of the library. Aleksey’s grip had left a mark that was a lot harder to ignore than a text message.
On the other side of the room, Matt shifted in his bed and pulled his comforter up to his chin.
“Is it always this freezing in Michigan?” Matt asked. His voice was rough with sleep.
“You’ll get used to it,” I said.
“No, I won’t. I miss California.” He sat up and rubbed his eyes. “What time did you get back last night?”
