Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82508 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
My lips twitch as I watch him work like he has all the time he needs. I know for a fact security is as light over the break as it is at CU, but there are still patrols who could easily find us.
After a quick glance around, I lift my phone and snap a pic of Beck as he works. When the spray paint comes out, I’m completely unsurprised when he sprays a giant dick on the cat’s forehead.
Maybe that’s taking it a step too far, but this is Beck after all.
I watch him work for another few minutes, wishing like hell he’d hurry up and get out of there.
Movement to the left catches my eye, and my gut drops. There’s a flashlight sweeping along the side of the theater, and Beck hasn’t noticed it.
“Fuck.” I scramble to grab my phone and pull up Beck’s number, holding my breath the whole time.
I see him reach into his pocket. I’m worried for a moment that he won’t answer, but then I remind myself it’s on him if he’s caught.
“What up?” is his greeting.
“Security’s coming. On your right.”
I hang straight up again and climb into the driver’s side. The flashlight is getting closer, and Beck must finally spot it because he starts running.
Okay, I guess we’re not going with the subtle approach.
A loud shout follows him, so I stuff the key in the ignition and rev the car to life. Throwing it into reverse, I pull out of the parking spot and maneuver it to the edge of the path just as Beck reaches me. He almost pulls the door from the hinges as he yanks it open and dives into the seat.
“Hey, stop!”
The flashlight bounces closer, and Beck slams the door, cutting off the shouts, then I steer the car around and get the hell out of there.
I’m doing ten over the limit as we hit the road out of UVM and keep going.
Beck’s laughing beside me, and my hands are wrapped around the wheel like I’m trying not to throttle it.
I don’t ease up on the speed until I’m sure no one is following us.
“A dick?” I say to Beck when I finally feel like I can talk again. “You’re really original.”
“Who needs originality? Cock and balls are a classic.”
We’re silent for a moment while I check the rearview mirror.
“Ah, I guess I should probably say thanks,” Beck says quietly. “You know, for warning me.”
“I should have left you there.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you. You need your scholarship, I get it.”
And yet, my scholarship wasn’t on my mind when I started the car and officially became an accomplice. “We’re teammates. We have each other’s back, no matter what.”
“Sure. Teammates.” Beck’s mood shifts. “Can you drop me at the dorms before you go to McIntyre’s with the guys? I’m not in the mood.”
“You? Not in the mood?”
He doesn’t reply.
“Dorms are fine,” I say.
“So the CUM games are over. You’re finally free of me.”
It should feel better than it does.
“Are you going to tell the guys I almost got busted and didn’t finish? They’ll probably decide you’re the winner if you tell them how you were my knight in shining armor.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Totally did. You acted like a captain. Just like last year when it was the Grant and Jacobs show.”
“The … what?”
“You two were practically inseparable. The rest of us are good, but the coaches practically jerked off over how great you two were together.”
“That’s disturbing.”
“Do you know I used to think you guys were fucking?”
My eyes shoot wide. “The hell? Why?”
“You and I? We’re teammates. You and him? It was … more.”
“Well, yeah, we were friends.”
“You hung off him.” The glare he turns on me is kinda mean. “‘Grant, let’s practice shootouts,’ ‘Grant, are you coming to McIntyre’s?’ ‘Grant, let me suck your dick …’”
“Screw you. None of that ever happened.”
“If you say so.”
We’re quiet for a minute. I almost, ridiculously, feel like coming clean to him. But there are about a million people ahead of Beck when it comes to evaluating my sexuality, and I don’t trust for a moment that he wouldn’t run straight to the team and tell them all about how he turned me gay with one kiss. No, thank you.
“I was, umm, maybe a little jealous.” He’s staring out the window, and I swear he’s purposely making sure I can’t see his face.
“Jealous?”
“Not about you guys. It’s … I have a lot of friends, but I don’t have a best friend. No point, really, when as soon as I graduate, I’ll be back in New York.”
Any other time, I would have thought Beck was bragging, reminding us all about his life in Manhattan. Now, he sounds tired.
It’s unbelievable that I have the urge to comfort him.
“If it helps, I don’t have a best friend anymore either.” With Grant in Montreal, under the pump with the NHL and trying to squeeze in any free moment he has with Zach, I know that’ll leave fuck all time for me. “And unlike you, I don’t have a lot to fall back on.”