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“Thank me?” Darren avoided meeting Isaiah’s gaze. “For what?”
Isaiah had bet himself Darren would pretend not to know anything. What he hadn’t bet on was how strong a turn-on that was. Darren helping him and refusing credit? Really, awkwardly strong. “You know what you did. You left, and forty-five minutes later I got an email from Jenkins saying they had to change the date.”
“Um, right. I got the same email. Why do you think I had anything to do with that?” Darren shrugged. “Fred had to cancel because of a trip.”
Isaiah fought not to laugh at just how bad Darren was at lying. The darting gaze. The flush on his cheeks. “Poker is not your game, okay?”
“Huh?”
Isaiah cocked a brow. “The email never mentioned Fred had to cancel.”
“Oh, um. He told me before he called Jenkins?”
Isaiah slid off the chair and knelt on the springy carpet in front of Darren. He touched Darren’s chin and gently steered his face until he was looking right at him. “Can we stop playing this game, please? You did something to change the dates. You said you were going to fix my problem and you did. I’m not asking if you did this, I’m asking why.”
Darren’s breath wafted over the side of his hand, and the electricity had Isaiah’s fingers twitching. “Because it wasn’t right.”
Isaiah dropped his hand, and immediately Darren glanced at his lap between them. “I called Fred and asked him to change the date. I hope you’re not mad, but I had to tell him what they were doing to you.”
“Why?”
“He asked me why I didn’t ask Jenkins, or my advisor. I had to explain that they were picking dates they knew were a problem for you.”
“And he just happened to pick the one day that week I’m free?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Would you believe that was pure coincidence?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.” Darren rubbed the back of his neck and finally looked him in the eye. “I have your schedule and I looked first. I’ll need to leave practice early, but Coach and I have an agreement, so it won’t be an issue.”
“Agreement?” The coach worked with him, but the music department wouldn’t help Isaiah? “What kind of agreement?”
“I get one extra lap for every three minutes early I leave.”
“Why didn’t you pick a different time?”
“It was the only free night you had, and that was the time Fred picked. I’ll make it work.”
“Is that why you were late for the first meeting? To cut down on the laps you were going to get?” No matter what he said, Isaiah knew that was it.
“Yes, but no.” He snorted. “Sorry, usually I’m more articulate than that. Yes, I stayed longer than I should have and got fewer laps, but it wasn’t intentional. I lost track of time.”
“You switched the day and time for me and picked a time that’s going to cost you laps? Why would you do that?”
“Payback for saving me from Max?”
“Nope, not buying that.”
“You sure?” Darren’s breath came out quick and shallow, and the race of it echoed in Isaiah’s veins.
Isaiah rested back on his heels, lest he forget what was at stake and jump the guy.
The added distance barely helped. But it was something.
“What they’re doing, Isaiah,” Darren said, “you were right. I didn’t question when things went in my favor. But this was going to affect your grades and maybe even your ability to stay in school. I don’t want to win that badly. I mean I do, but I couldn’t accept that. Not even for this.”
“Can I ask why being the Gage Scholar is so important to you?”
Darren turned away. “You wouldn’t understand.”
As Isaiah suspected, this was about something bigger than a family tradition. “Try me.”
His gaze flickered to Isaiah’s. “It just is, okay?”
Not really. Darren was infuriatingly impossible to figure out. He wanted to make sense of the guy and couldn’t. But Isaiah wasn’t going to press him.
Isaiah pushed up and stood directly before Darren, almost between his knees. “I don’t get you, Darren. But thank you. If they hadn’t changed the date, it would have hurt me bad.”
“No worries.”
Darren looked up at him, and Isaiah still didn’t move away.
“I’m not just here to say thank you,” Isaiah said, scooping up the wisps of hair that had come free from his hair tie and redoing it.
Darren’s gaze dropped to Isaiah’s crotch and whipped back up. “What else are you here for?”
Isaiah froze. Dammit. He wanted to say he was here for crossing those lines with him. But the sudden wariness in Darren’s eyes put any such thoughts back in their rightful place.
Isaiah stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m also here to apologize. I was a dick to you back at the café.”
“You had every right to be angry.”
“Not at you.”
Darren’s expression softened, lips twitching up at the sides. “Not at me.”
