Another strange comment from the ever-mysterious Alexei Veritov.
Given how worked up he got over these pages, I know it must mean something to him, but I decide it might be safestto offer a subject change. “So you think we should try your room or mine? Where do you think Brad and Luke will be fucking?”
“It’s late on Sunday. They’re not gonna be at either of our rooms.”
He says it so confidently, as though he’s memorized their schedules.
“What do they do Sunday nights?”
He glances at me, then looks away just as quickly. “Probably just out.”
He’s so weird about the strangest things.
I get back to chatting about the gameplay we shared with Spencer and Malcom. But even as he engages, it’s clear his mind’s elsewhere. He likely wants to get back to his room and go through the pages he captured on his phone. And really, I want to do the same.
After we get back to our dorm, I say, “It was a fun day. Maybe we can do something like that again, but without the whole…you know.”
His expression twists up. “Yeah, it was fun,” he says, as though it surprises him.
“Maybe we can see what Spencer and Malcom are up to next weekend.”
He leans back, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I’m being serious,” I assure him.
He searches around. “Do you need me to go with you into your room to make sure I didn’t take anything I shouldn’t have?”
“Now you’re practically begging to be strip-searched,” Ijoke. “And I thought Spencer was the one who wanted to fuck me. But I mean, I do need to get off, so…”
I’ve earned another laugh. One that reminds me that, fucked up as today’s been, I enjoy hanging with the guy.
“But seriously,” Alexei says. “I don’t mind you checking to see. I want you to know that really was all I was after.”
He starts emptying pockets for me, and it’s a sweet gesture. Of course, he could have easily hidden things in other places. But judging by his reaction when I sent myself those images from his phone, that seemed to be all he was really after. Maybe I’m falling for his con, but maybe because I want to believe him, I find myself trusting him more than I did when I first confronted him.
“I’m good, Alexei. I’m glad I helped you get what you needed.”
“Thank you. Again.”
“Night, Lex.”
“See you later, Teo.” He offers an awkward wave before starting down the hall.
My gaze drops, watching that hot, bitable ass shift in his jeans. Straight as I know I am, I don’t know why it intrigues me, but it most definitely does.
He glances over his shoulder like he could fucking feel me ogling him. “Drink it in,” he says with a wink, which has me laughing again.
I head into my room, pulling out my phone and falling onto my bed. Time to see what Alexei was after.
I scroll through the notebook pages, noticing some strange drawings. When I was a kid, I remember being withmy parents and discovering a tantric sex book with loads of diagrams, and there are several images that remind me of that, vague illustrations of people in sexual positions.
As I return to the first page, a heading catches my eye:Conjuring and Summoning. And underneath:Summoning requires intense concentration and entering a state of mind where one can open up to the forces from the Rift.
This must be some kind of fucking spell. Like magic-spell bullshit.
I read on:Being a receiving partner during intercourse, submitting entirely to the insertive partner, is the surest way to gain access to this power.
My thoughts drift to Alexei with those tears in his eyes. He said he needed this. This is what he was being paid with? Some fucking sex spell?
