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Darren’s eyes glistened and he looked away from Isaiah sharply. “If I win, he’ll see me again. God, I want him to see me again.”
Sympathy and understanding and frustration tickled in Isaiah’s throat. He wanted to say something—show he got it—but all he could do was nod.
He didn’t realize until Darren said it how much he’d hoped Darren would have a stupid, easily overcome reason for pursuing it.
But Isaiah got him.
If his dad had drawn away, he’d have chased him to the ends of the earth and back.
Fuck life for being so messy.
Another alarm sounded, and Darren cursed under his tongue. He grabbed his phone and rolled off the bed. “Bad call, setting the alarm for eleven. There’s no time to unpack this fun conversation.”
He said it with a lighthearted growl that broke the tension, and Isaiah chuckled. Yeah, he didn’t want to talk about the thing between them right now. Or at all, if he could have one wish from the universe.
Isaiah swung his feet out of bed and hauled Darren back by his naked hips. He bent his head toward Darren’s hard, bobbing cock, pausing to wink at Darren.
Darren rocked up a brow. “I have, like, sixty seconds.”
“Time me.”
Stuffing his book into his pack, Isaiah stared at the board. Damn. He should’ve paid more attention to the lecture. Hard to focus on sustainable business strategies when all he wanted was his lunchtime date with Darren to roll around.
His phone vibrated and he turned it over. He paused, frowning. He’d expected a text from Darren, not an email from his Gage Scholar faculty advisor.
Students pushed past him, eager to exit the lecture theatre, as Isaiah scanned Professor Linton’s email.
What the fuck?
Isaiah read it again, slower, trying to comprehend it. His hands shook as he absorbed the contents.
“No fucking way!” The last stragglers in the lecture hall turned their heads toward him.
Isaiah scrolled once more through the email, then stormed up the steps.
Outside, Isaiah searched his contacts for Jenkins’s office number. His heart slammed against his chest when the assistant answered.
“Harrison University. President Jenkins’s office.”
“This is Isaiah Nettles. I need to speak to President Jenkins.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Nettles, but he’s not available.” She didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
“This is really important. Can you ask him to take my call, please?”
“The president is in a meeting. I’ll let him know you called.”
“But—”
“I’ll give him your message.”
“I—”
“Is there anything else, Mr. Nettles?”
“No,” he said between gritted teeth. He disconnected the call. No way would Jenkins call him back.
A notification flashed on the top of his screen.
Darren: Morning, handsome. Can’t wait to see you for lunch.
His heart banged about in his chest, emotion balling in his throat. How did he answer Darren on the tail of Linton’s email?
Dizziness washed through him and he staggered to a nearby bench to call Nico. “Please pick up.”
Each ring increased his anxiety; finally on the third ring, the call connected. “’Saiah?” Nico sounded groggy. “Why are you waking me on my sleep-in day?”
Isaiah babbled indecipherably.
Nico’s tone sharpened. “Whoa. Start over. What happened?”
“They’re going to take my scholarship away and kick me out of school because I’m dating Darren. I’m so screwed.”
“Hold on, who’s taking your scholarship away?”
“Professor Linton sent me an email warning me that if I don’t stop dating Darren, I’ll lose my scholarship.”
“Your advisor, Linton? He can’t do that.”
“Well, he was quoting Jenkins, who was quoting Darren’s dad.”
“You’re not making any sense, ’Saiah. Where are you? Come back to the room.”
Isaiah’s voice choked in his anxiety. “Right.”
“Forward me the email so I can read it while you’re on the way.”
Nico sat on the bed with his laptop in front of him.
The hope his roommate had found a solution faded when he saw Nico’s face.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Isaiah felt like throwing up.
“Sit down. Let’s talk about this.” Nico moved aside, giving Isaiah a place to sit.
Isaiah slumped next to him.
Nico tapped the keys and twisted the machine around for Isaiah to see. “I checked the scholarship information, and Linton’s assessment is correct. Your scholarship does need to be renewed every year, and the Gage Foundation is the one who has to approve it.”
“So, Darren’s dad can take it away?”
Nico shrugged. “Well, sort of. He can do what he wants. The question is, does he have a legit basis to do it.”
“What does that mean?”
He spun the silver Mac back so he could type. “Your scholarship is with the Foundation, not the school itself. From what little I could find, the original Darren Gage endowed the school with several grants. All of the endowments are handled by the school and the board except the money in the Foundation. He specifically kept that with him and his family.
“Since Darren’s dad runs the foundation, he has the power not to renew your scholarship if you violate any of the terms. That’s the murky area. There is this one spot that talks about acts of moral turpitude.”
