“You can take it however you want.” Soon, Pavel would be doing the same.
But not tonight.
Pointedly, he retreated. “Goodnight, Doctor Zane.”
The moment he turned his back, he could feel Zane’s frown following him into the shadows as he took his leave.
It felt good, finally having the other man’s eyes on him.
Yes. It was time. He was going to make Zane see him. And he was going to enjoy every single moment of it.
Chapter 1:
The neon words currently projected from the open textbook began to blur, and Zane fought past the exhaustion by downing his fifth cup of coffee.
Or maybe it was his seventh.
He’d lost count.
Sort of like how he was about to lose his perfect record if he didn’t get his head on straight and focused. This upcoming test was worth sixty percent of his overall grade, and while he could still pass even if he somehow managed to completely bomb it, he’d more than lose his ranking. Then Professor Wells Diar, his senior advisor, would use that as an excuse to call him into his office for alone time.
As if having to dodge his teacher's advances wasn’t frustrating enough, he’d also be losing to Berga Obsidian, which was so not about to happen, for multiple reasons. The first of which was that Berga was a member of the Satellite, and since Zane was in the Retinue, the two fell into a pattern of friendly competition early on in their schooling. It was “friendly” only because their paths were so different; there was no real reason to compete.
Berga was already the Butcher of the Brumal mafia, a job he’d gained recently after the death of their old leader resultedin a power exchange. Technically, he could drop out of Vail University right now and it wouldn’t affect him in the least.
Zane was different. He needed that piece of paper at the end of graduation. Needed it framed and hanging up on the wall.
A wall that wasn’t his.
In a home that wasn’t his.
He scowled and tossed the stylus he’d been using to highlight bitterly onto the desk. Gods damn it. He was losing his mind.
His focusing issues were nothing new. He’d suffered from them all his life—or, at least the parts of his life he could remember. Everything before his tenth birthday was a blur. Medically, there was nothing wrong with him. His memories were blocked and no one could tell him if they’d ever return, but they weren’t concerned. The same statement could be applied to his lack of interest in studying at the moment.
He didn’t struggle with focusing because of his brain.
He struggled because of his dick.
Spreading his thighs wide, he glared down at the offending, protruding member of his body. The one part of himself that seemed to never want to listen to reason. That’s why his thing with Kazimir had worked out so well. Whenever the two of them had needed to fuck, they’d call, get it over with, and move on with their lives. Kaz had meant nothing more to him than that.
But he’d been a constant in Zane’s life since high school, and Zane hated when anyone messed with his routine.
He hated that he’d been so easily tossed aside even more than that.
Bastard.
Three months later he was still thinking about how he’d lost to that poor street racer Nate Narek. Poor in the sense the man bore no social status and virtually an empty bank account.What he lacked in every other aspect, however, he seemed to make up for in looks and wits, which Zane could appreciate.
Truthfully, he didn’t have anything against Nate.
“It’s you I have a problem with,” he grunted, staring down at the straining hard-on in his pants.
Great. And now he was talking to his dick.
This was all Kaz’s fault.
Herfault.
