Page 92 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 1

“Jesus,” Sawyer snapped, sliding out of my chair and dropping to my side. He practically grabbed my face and brought his inches away. I could feel his heat on my skin. He ran as hot as ever. “You’re not a failure, Noah. You’re brilliant. You’re the smartest smart-ass I know.”

I snorted. “That’s…reassuring.”

“I mean it. Please don’t make me wind you up like a dancing monkey toy. You’ll be speaking genius all night if I get my way.” He held my face with both hands, staring into my eyes until he saw a flicker of belief in them.

I wasn’t sure if I believed him, though. Perhaps I acted it out for his sake. I appreciated his kindness, but I’d spent years considering this carefully. There was a point to what my parents expected of me and why they were disappointed.

It felt like a piece of me died when I won that competition. A little part of my soul lost purpose after that. I hadn’t realized it immediately, but I had also built great expectations, just like Mom and Dad. Then, the rest of my life happened, and nothing ever matched the heights I’d reached before I could even shave. Oh, and you have a full beard to shave now, I whispered to myself sarcastically.

Sawyer was leaning in as if to prove his point by kissing me. I welcomed it wholeheartedly, but his damn phone dinged just as his lips grazed mine. The sound startled us both. This wasn’t a random text message. This was from the university’s app.

He began shaking and pulling back, panic threatening to engulf him. “The results. These have to be the results.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket as we scrambled off the bed and paced the room. I wanted to tell him something reassuring, but he’d already told me how horribly he’d done. The fact that he couldn’t recall any of the questions or answers from the first exam gave me little confidence, but I’d never shown that to him. And I never would, no matter what the results said.

“Oh, shit,” Sawyer said, staring at his screen. “They are. The results.”

Wallaby was notorious for requesting timely assignments but delivering results at her tortoise pace.

I stared at Sawyer while he moved his trembling thumbs across the screen and gaped. The horror on his face shattered my heart. I had failed him. I had been so occupied with my growing desperation and the need to finally learn how to catch a guy that I hadn’t paid enough attention to him.

Damn it. I’d dropped the ball so badly that I wanted to run away and hide.

In his terror, Sawyer dropped his phone. He lifted his shocked gaze to meet my eyes, then took a big step forward, nearly tumbling us both down to the floor. His lips smashed against mine before I knew what was up. Comfort kisses? Was that a thing? If yes, I could do it. I could comfort him. It was the least I could do after failing to help him with his exam.

The intensity of his kiss sent shivers down my spine. It was the most ruthless, lusty kiss I had gotten from him, and he’d been increasingly free with how we made out over the last few weeks.

“Flying colors,” he murmured against my lips, and I choked. “Fucking flying colors, you genius.”

I grabbed his T-shirt tightly in my fists and pushed his chest away from mine, separating our lips and gaping. “Wh-what do you mean?”

Sawyer blinked fast and shook his head. “I passed. I fucking passed with flying colors. She even gave me extra points for the elaborate responses…” He pulled away, bent down for his phone, then read off his screen. “…and an in-depth understanding of the topics at hand. The concerning lack of effort on the final assignment can be attributed to Professor Jordan’s Introduction to Mathematics and overlooked for the purposes of this exam.”

“Wait…she…what?” I couldn’t figure out how to string words together.

“She gave extra points,” Sawyer explained. “So they evened out the difference.”

I was still short of understanding, but it didn’t matter. I pulled him in and kissed him in return. It was the blazing, violent clash of lips and tongues, careless in its messiness and the embarrassing sounds that came with it.

“Fuck, we need to celebrate,” Sawyer said. “Oh hell, Noah, you’re a goddamn genius. Thank you so much. Let’s go out. I wanna dance. I need to dance.”

Although he had just presented me with my personal idea of hell, I wasn’t going to dampen his moment one bit. Fuck it. We were going dancing. And when he saw my poor attempts at dancing, he would regret ever knowing me, but I would worry about that later.

He grabbed my hand as soon as we had our light jackets on, and we rushed out. “There’s this party at the frat house where I spilled vodka all over you. Remember? I think it’s appropriate. Right?”

I agreed without considering it. Whatever he wanted, it was his. And Sawyer was practically doing cartwheels and jumping head over heels as we raced through the rain toward the frat house. It was just a couple of buildings away, still in the residential sector of the campus, but we were soaked by the time we barged in.

Sawyer’s elated enthusiasm spread so easily to me that I didn’t even hate the crowded space at the party. I followed him into the packed room of the large fraternity house where students from all over our campus and beyond congregated.

Sawyer grabbed drinks for us both. “I solemnly swear not to spill vodka all over you,” he said, crossing his heart as he lifted his plastic cup of beer.

I shrugged. “But if you do, you’ll just have to help me change my clothes.”

Sawyer’s eyes sparked with desire. Though I’d only made a joke, seeing his interest made my heart ridiculously big.

I wondered if this was what everyone felt like when Sawyer paid them attention. The first time I’d encountered him, in this very house, he was being torn apart by battling twins who wanted a turn. It was like he could cast a spell over you and plant himself in the center of your heart with little more than a mischievous smile or arching of an eyebrow. I found myself pulled into his orbit when he moved a few paces away from me and merged into the sea of dancing people.

Amidst the thumping beats and swirling lights of the frat party, I stood, feeling a bit like a deer who had somehow wandered into a bustling marketplace. But Sawyer had a way of making everything seem like an adventure, even if that adventure involved navigating a sea of red cups and overenthusiastic dancers. I tried my best to keep up, even if my dance moves made me look like I was auditioning for a dad dance competition.

As the music swayed and bodies moved, I couldn't help but feel a gravitational pull toward Sawyer. Our orbits seemed to sync effortlessly, like two stars dancing in the night sky. We kept it low-key, careful not to draw too much attention. I didn’t have clear reasons figured out, but it just didn’t feel right to throw myself at him. Maybe I knew that guys like Sawyer didn’t dance with guys like me. Except, here he was, doing just that. And every time our eyes met, it was like an inside joke only we understood.