My afternoon tutoring session was horrible.I was on complete autopilot.My pulse raced, I almost hyperventilated at one point.One student asked me if I was coming down with the flu.I half expected her to pull out a surgical mask.I promised her I was just sleep deprived.
Hoodie pocket buzzed—text.
Luke:Radiator 69.4.Intro to Management at 4:45.Available after 8?
Me:I’ll be there.
Luke:Nice.Need anything?
Need.Dangerous prompt.I considered answers—pens, coffee, certainty.
Me:Just you and maybe a couple of oat bars.Probability of survival improves with carbs.
Luke:Copy.See you.
I slid the phone away, stared at the board until the letters blurred.Want wasn’t the problem.Trusting that want had a half-life longer than one semester—that was the variable singing off-key.
Clock ticked toward four.Students trickled in and out of my office hours.
Chapter 24
Too Many Men
Luke
The room was dark except for the streetlamp glow slicing through the blinds, painting stripes across Austen’s bare back.
My hands were on his waist, skin warm under my palms.He was straddling my lap, his forehead resting against mine, breathing a rhythm that matched my own.
“We should stop,” Austen whispered, though he made zero move to do so.
“Why?”I murmured, pressing a kiss to the pulse point under his jaw.
“Because you have a seven a.m.lifting block.And you need sleep.”
“I’m resting,” I lied.“This is active recovery.”
Austen huffed a laugh—a vibration I felt in my chest.He shifted, friction sparking a heat that had nothing to do with the radiator.
It had been three days since the library.Three days of this—stealing hours in the dorm, locking the deadbolt, pretending the rest of the world stopped at the threshold of Room 317.
It felt safe.It felt like we’d hacked the system.
I ran my hands up his bare spine, feeling the tension leave his muscles.For a guy who lived in his head, Austen was present when we were like this.No math.No variables.Weight and touch.
He leaned back, breaking the kiss with a contented sigh.
BOOM.BOOM.BOOM.
The pounding on the door shook the frame.
“Carter!I know you’re in there!Open up!”
Ryan.
The sound was like a gunshot in a library.
Austen froze.His eyes went wide, panic flashing white-hot.
