“Wait,”I said urgently when Gage stuck his hand in his pocket to pull out the keys to our dorm room. I yanked that hand right back out and swatted it aside, stumbling into him because the floor wasdisastrouslywobbly tonight, and shoved my own hand into his pocket instead. “I can… Um, I can do that.”
“Not sure you can, dimples,” Gage said, grinning at me as he held me upright, because he seemed to somehow magically know that my knees weren’t working any better than the floor was tonight... because he always kneweverything...because he was thebest.
I grinned back at him and told him so. “You’re the best, Gage.”
“Yep,” he agreed, laughing at me. But not laughing in a rude way, of course, because have I mentioned that Gage was the best thing in the world? In the universe? In…ever? It was why being his slave tonight had been so awesome, because there was nothing I liked better than doing nice things forhim, which was basically why I was at college in the first place.
Wait, no. I was here because my parents had told me I had to go. Come. Attend? Ugh. Anyway, I was here withGage,though, becausehe’dtold me we would be roommates, and that I should quit whining about it because he needed me, and that it would be fun.
Which he was right about, of course, because he was always right.
I mean, true, I was having a little trouble staying on top of the actual class work, but that was nothing new when it came to school stuff, and everything else about college reallywassuper fun, just like he’d predicted. For example, tonight. Poker night. That haddefinitelybeen fun.
Even if… if some of it was getting a little blurry in my memory now.
Still, I knew for sure it had been the funnest. Funner than the funnest, if there was a word for that. Because Gage hadwonme. That had definitely been the best, and I forgot all about the keys for a second and reached up to touch the dog coll—I mean, theslavecollar I was still wearing.
I tried to look down and see it, but failed, because my neck was in the way.
No, because it wasonmy neck.
Gah. Who had designed humans, anyway? It was stupid not to be able to see your own neck, right? That seemed like poor planning to me. I should… should file a complaint.
“What are you doing, Noe?” Gage asked, tipping my chin up, then tilting his head to try and see my neck, too. And ohhhhhhhhh. Maybe it wasn’t such a poor design after all. Gage could see my neckforme.
I grinned, feeling… well, a little bit intoxicated, if I was being honest, because I’d probably-I-mean-definitely had too many beers, but also, I just felthappy. Now that I’d realized how it was supposed to work, I could totally see that the whole neck-placement thing was actually reallyexcellentplanning. Really innovative, um, design specifications or whatever, what with the whole human anatomy setup and how it required another person to see your neck for you and all. Because… because that person for me was Gage, and Gage was… he was… he was thebest.
“Oh shit, bro,” Gage said, scattering my intensely deep and meaningful thoughts like leaves in the wind.
I blinked, confused. “What’s… um, what’s wrong?”
Gage shifted me over—somehow I’d ended up draped around him like a blanket—and supported my weight with just one of his oversized arms, freeing up his other hand to reach for my collar. “I forgot you still had this on, sorry about that.”
I could feel his fingers fumbling with it, and I blamed my blood alcohol level for the fact that I didn’t catch on to what he was trying to do at first. But when I did—
I gasped, jerking away from him and almost going down. “No! Don’t take it off!”
“Whoa,” he said, laughing at me again as he yanked me back against his chest to keep me from falling, because he was the best.
I mean… I mean, theworst.
Gage wastotallythe worst, because he’d been about to take my collar off, but I was… was only supposed to service him… serve him… be his servant… be hisslavewhile it was on.
That couldn’t be over already, right?
He wouldn’t make me stop now, would he?
Hadn’t we… hadn’t we just started?
I scrunched up my face, trying to remember. He’d definitely been ordering me around earlier. He’d made me count his quarters during the rest of the poker game, and… and get him another beer, and… and…
Well, I couldn’t remember exactly what else, actually, but it definitely hadn’t been enough. I wanted to domorefor him. He deserved it. It was just so nice to be able to make him happy, and with the collar on, I could just… justdothat. I didn’t have to worry about doing anything else at all. It was perfect.
“That thing can’t be comfortable, Noah. It’s making your neck a little red,” Gage said, frowning at me.
Well, notatme. Gage almost never frownedatme, but... Oh. I blinked, trying to make him come into focus. Okay. Right. I knew this particular frown. He was frowning because he thought he had to fix something for me, which was normally nice, but this time not… not necessary.
Maybe he was sort of right (like always), because the collarwasa little scratchy, but he was wrong, too, because it still felt good to wear it, even if it didn’t actuallyfeelgood to wear it, which totally made sense in my head but felt too complicated to explain when I was… was possibly-I-mean-definitely still a little bit tipsy from all the beer. Still, I knew I had to saysomethingto keep him from trying to steal it from me again. So—
