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“Soccer practice goes until six. There’s got to be some time that fits both our schedules?”
“I get finished at eight thirty most nights.”
Darren nodded. “I have a game on Thursday and an away game on Saturday.”
“Tomorrow at eight thirty?”
“Can we do Friday?”
“No frat party this weekend?” Isaiah briefly slammed his eyes shut. “Sorry, that was dickish. I can do Friday. Where do you want to meet?”
Darren stuffed his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Anywhere but the house. There actually is a party there this Friday.”
Yet he agreed to meet?
Isaiah scooped up his hair and retied it—a tick he had when he was nervous. He flashed Darren a small grin. “How about you use some of that spoiled rich boy power and get Billings to give us a room in the business school to use?”
Darren laughed, and it flooded through Isaiah with a good dose of awareness. “How about we ask together? Otherwise they’ll think it’s my idea.”
“You think he’ll give it to us if he knows it came from me?”
“I know they judge us on everything we do. Your idea, your credit.”
Those thousand-watt smiles were going to be distracting as fuck. Not that he would complain. In the flirtatious department, Isaiah always gave more than he got. “Fine, but Darren?”
“Yeah?”
“This is a competition.” He met his eye. “I’m in this to win.”
Chapter Five
Isaiah
“Child, that outfit is not going to get you laid.”
Isaiah looked from his roommate, Nico, to the Captain America T-shirt he’d shrugged into. The shirt fit well, and by well, he meant tightly. It stretched just enough to show off his biceps and all the work he’d done on his abs. The khaki shorts were a bit baggy, but they didn’t make them like yoga pants. “I’m not trying to score.”
Nico rolled his eyes. “Haven’t I taught you anything since I met you? Clothes make the man. You can’t walk into a club dressed like a straight boy in the closet.”
“I’m not going to a club.” He wasn’t even twenty-one yet. Given his status with the school administration, he wasn’t risking an underage drinking arrest or fake ID charge.
“Oh no. It’s worse than I thought. You cannot wear that to a date.”
Isaiah stared at Nico slung across his bed, flicking through a magazine. The window was open, letting in a soft, warm breeze. Chatter came from the ground floor below—students gathering outside for a night on the town. Usually Nico was with them, but he was “suffering” another breakup.
Isaiah sat on his bed and pulled on his sneakers. He felt Nico’s gaze on him, waiting for a response.
He pulled his laces and tied them without looking over.
“This is so not a date.” The thought. Like Isaiah would go out with someone who used his connections to win people over. Like Darren would consider dating a no-name guy like Isaiah.
Yeah, no romance in the cards there.
Not to mention, they were fighting for the same position.
Awkward enough finding the guy hot.
Isaiah glanced up to find Nico studying him.
“What? I just have to meet the golden child to discuss the fundraiser we’re putting together.”
“Here I thought the smile twisting your lip had to do with the yummy quarterback you’re training.”
“I was not smiling.”
Nico snickered. “Whatever. Back to the quarterback. Any chance I can stretch with him?”
“Jack’s taken. Very taken.”
“Too bad. Why are all the hot ones taken? Present company excluded, of course.”
“I thought you were getting over your breakup.”
“Yep. Over it. Hey.” Nico waggled his brows. “Maybe Jack and his boyfriend would be into a third?”
“Jesus, Nico. Jack’s my friend. That’s it. He’s gaga for his boyfriend, and the feeling is mutual.” It was enough to give anyone a toothache.
“Fine. Now tell me about this golden boy. How hot is he?”
Isaiah groaned. Hadn’t Nico been listening all week? “No way. Not going there. He’s an entitled richie who thinks he’s owed the position because he shares the same name.”
“Didn’t you say his great-great-grandfather started it and provided the money?” He glanced down his nose. “I’m pretty sure that’s what you said about the cutie.”
Isaiah retied his hair, staring at the tattoo circling his bicep. “He’s not cute.”
“Hmm. Not what I’m getting.”
Isaiah mumbled, “As if I care. I’m not dipping in that well.”
“Not everyone whose parents have money is a jerk you know. Just because you dated one, doesn’t mean they're all like that.”
“Everett and I didn’t date.” At least Everett didn’t think they had. Isaiah was good for sex, but not good enough to introduce to friends. “And this is specific to Gage. He’s the last to arrive for the meeting, rolls in wearing shorts and no socks, calls his mentor by his nickname. And the whole pulling up his grandfather’s number on his phone thing. Total tool.”
He stuffed a pad and his Gage Scholar binder in his backpack. His hand lingered on the binder. Was it . . . was it possible he was the one being a dick about this? Would a better person step aside and let Gage have it? Call it bad luck and move on?
