I drape my arm around his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, man. I am. I just wanted to talk to you in private.”
“Uh…sure.” He stares straight ahead.
It’s an awkward-as-fuck walk back to his and Luke’s dorm room, and he guides me inside. As the door closes behindme, he turns around, creases between his brows. He runs his hand through his lengthy dark locks before scratching the back of his head. He doesn’t make eye contact.
I fear how he’s gonna react to my accusation, not just because this might go south real fast, but because how he responds will tell me the kind of guy he is—a decent guy who can cop to what he’s done, or a shit who’s gonna try to weasel his way out of any accountability.
God, please don’t be a shit.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“I saw you rummaging through Gage’s duffel in the locker room.” I wait for him to refute it, but he bites his bottom lip. “I’ll take that as an admission, then.” As he tucks his head toward his chest, I say, “I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but you don’t want to go down that path.”
His expression twists up, like he’s surprised by what I’m saying. “What path?”
“Stealing from friends. If you need money, there are other ways to get—”
His jaw drops, and he glares at me. Now I’m totally thrown. When I accused him of going through Gage’s bag, he seemed to know exactly what I was referring to.
“Why do people keep thinking I need money?” he asks, stepping toward me. “Because I’m just some poor kid to you?” He comes at me quickly, and though he’s a few inches shorter than me, between the athleticism I’ve seen on the field and the intensity he’s approaching me with, I imagine he’d put up a decent fight.
“What?” I ask as he gets in my face.
“You rich kids think that’s what’s on everyone else’s minds. The rest of us are so fucking desperate, we’ll do anything to get a piece of what you’ve got. For your fucking information, I happen to have some money my uncle left me after he passed. And I also run deliveries, as you know, so I don’t have to steal money from anyone. Understood?”
Not even a little. But given his expression, I must be totally wrong about what I saw earlier.
“I didn’t mean to suggest that, Alexei. You’ve just been acting off—”
“Off? You don’t even know me.”
“I didn’t put that right. You’ve seemed high-strung lately. And you were spacing out at the game today. And then I see you with Gage’s wallet. What am I supposed to think?”
His gaze wavers, and the tension in his expression eases up. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I thought I might have gotten away with it. Fuck.” He steps back, and I realize how tense I am as my body relaxes, my fists unclenching.
He turns away, starting toward his desk. He’s quiet when he reaches it, then spins back toward me, sticking his thumb between his teeth. We stand there in uncomfortable silence, but I don’t push again. Figure he’ll talk when he’s ready, and after what feels like five minutes but is maybe thirty seconds, he blurts, “I didn’t take money from Gage.”
“What did you take, then?”
He reaches into his back pocket and displays a key card with the Alpha Alpha Mu logo. Now I understand why he jumped down my throat when I accused him of taking cash, but at the same time, I’m that much more confused—whywould he steal that key card?
“I’m lost.”
“I can imagine, and I don’t know how the fuck to explain it.”
“How about the truth?”
“The truth? You want the truth?” He sounds like he’s about to lay it on me, but then he presses his lips together. He searches around the room. “Trust me, you don’t want the truth. If I could go back, I’m not sure I’d want it either.”
What the hell is he on about?
“Alexei, why are you being so cryptic?”
His gaze meets mine again, his tongue pushing against the inside of his mouth.
What the fuck are you not telling me, Alexei?
3
