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“You were trying to protect him, too. It’s actually quite beautiful in its own insane, idiotic way.”
“Shut up.” Isaiah stole his phone back.
Darren: Open your door?
“Open my door?”
Nico rolled his eyes and jumped off the bed. He pulled open the door, and Darren stood there, smiling ear-to-ear.
Isaiah flew off the bed. They collided in a fierce hug, Isaiah squeezing Darren as tightly as Darren squeezed him.
“’Saiah, honey. The rule is you let your boyfriend into the room before you molest him.”
Isaiah didn’t let Darren go and stumbled with him into the room.
Nico spared them a smirk. “I think this is my cue to leave.”
“You don’t need to,” Darren murmured. “Nothing’s going to happen here.”
Isaiah growled. “Why the hell not? No, first, tell me where you went. What happened?”
Darren grabbed Isaiah’s hands. He opened his mouth and glanced nervously at Nico.
“Should I kick his ass out?” Isaiah offered.
Darren rubbed his thumb over the back of Isaiah’s hand and met his eye. “It’s no secret. I talked to my father.”
Isaiah clutched Darren’s hands. “Darren, I—”
“He never called Jenkins. He wouldn’t pull your scholarship for dating me.”
“He didn’t?”
Darren told him the entire exchange, and Isaiah could barely keep still from the hope fluttering in his chest. “He didn’t object to me dating you, either,” Darren said. “I think he actually likes you.”
“No accounting for taste.” Nico snickered as he stuffed his laptop into his bag.
Darren grinned, flashing his dimples. His gaze stroked Isaiah’s face lovingly. “May I kiss you?”
Isaiah answered by pulling Darren’s head down. Ignoring Nico blatantly watching them, Isaiah pushed his tongue into Darren’s mouth, moaning when Darren kissed him back. They broke apart with a gasp, and Isaiah drew Darren to his bed.
“Dad wanted me to reassure you that your scholarship is safe. If the school tries to take it, he’ll ensure the Foundation creates another one that he and only he has a say over.”
Isaiah could barely believe his ears. “He did?”
“He’s pissed Jenkins used his name to punish you. Unfortunately, Jenkins is slick. By calling Linton, he didn’t leave a paper trail. I’m sure he’ll deny it and say Linton is making it up or misunderstood. But he’s convinced Jenkins did it.”
“Why?”
“Because I told him what Jenkins has been doing to you. Because it makes sense that Jenkins would say it, and Linton has no reason to lie about it.”
“I hope Linton won’t get in trouble.”
“Oh, I think Jenkins is the one in trouble.” Darren laughed. “You’ve never seen my dad pissed off. It’s scary. My grandfather is worse. He acts quietly.”
“He sounds like Nonna,” Nico butted in, clearly not ready to leave the room yet. “You never see it coming.”
Darren laughed. “That’s Grandpa Gage.”
“What does your grandfather have to do with this?”
“He’s chairman of the Board of Trustees for the school. He’s also retired with very little substantive work to do. Dad’s going to have him get to the bottom of this. And all that shit Jenkins has been doing to you and everyone else? Grandpa’s gonna find it.”
Isaiah leaned against Darren, resting his head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he murmured. “For risking everything to stand up for us.”
Darren feathered a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through.”
Isaiah wrapped an arm around Darren’s waist and peeked up at him. “Back to the subject of kicking Nico out . . .”
Darren’s laugh vibrated through him, and then a whisper tickled through his hair. “How about we go someplace else, instead? Someplace just for us.”
Isaiah leaped from the bed. “Let me get some stuff.”
Darren
Stuff.
Darren was a hundred percent sure what Isaiah meant by ‘stuff.’ He’d never been so turned on—and so wrecked with nerves—by such a small word.
He’d booked a hotel room. Flowers, strawberries, sparkling cider—the whole package. But the moment he opened the door, Isaiah was on him, and Darren’s thoughts went to other packages entirely. Soft light filtered through the sheer curtains, glowing warmly around Isaiah.
“You’re fucking beautiful,” Darren murmured.
Isaiah shoved him against the wall with eager thrusts of his hips.
Holy fuck, it was like all his synapses were firing all at once. He wanted to strip Isaiah of his clothes. Wanted to fuck him into the mattress.
Wanted—God, wanted Isaiah to fuck him.
He trembled between the cool wall and the heat of Isaiah.
Vaguely, in the back of his mind, there were things he needed to say. Soft, kind, loving words. A few other ones as well.
But Isaiah’s slick tongue thrusting suggestively in and out of his mouth had his brain tuning to a single channel.
Other stuff later.
Stuff.
He flipped them around, pressing his body against Isaiah, eliciting a debauched groan that almost had him coming in his pants. He sucked on the curve of Isaiah’s neck and nibbled open-mouthed kisses to his ear. “I want to fuck you.”
Isaiah moaned, grabbed his hips, and thrust his hard length against Darren’s.
