Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Several of the pickup crew jump at the opportunity, including a few from Alpha Alpha Mu. Their house is in the opposite direction of the pizza place, so like they’ve done a few times when I’ve joined the pickup game, they plan to hit the showers at the dorms so we can head over together after.
When I’m under the showerhead, feeling the hot water against my skin, contrasting sharply with the cold January weather, I roll my head back and sigh. Fuck, that feels good.
But just as soon as I’m ready to relax into my shower, I realize I didn’t grab my loofah from my bag and have to step out and dry off. As I start to round the corner to the shower lockers, I see Alexei. My glance goes right to that ass I nearly took a bite out of. I’ve never noticed what a perky butt he has. But something other than that bubble butt catches my attention. He’s got Gage’s duffel out, fishing through it.
My first thought is that Gage asked him to grab something for him, but as he starts to turn, I instinctively step back. He glances over his shoulder, and I duck behind the wall, waiting a moment before leaning over for a quick glance, catching Alexei fishing through cash in Gage’s wallet.
The hell?
Gage still could have asked him to grab something, I tell myself, and if that’s the case, he won’t have an issue with me heading right on in.
By the time I do, he’s already shut the locker, closed the combination lock, and is making his way over to his locker. He looks over his shoulder again, and fuck, the guilt is written all over his expression. I can’t help wondering if he’s watched Gage at his locker before and that’s how he knew the combination.
My heart sinks, my gut knotting up. Is this what Alexei’s been so stressed about? Is he having financial trouble? But, dude, this isn’t the way to go about dealing with your problems.
When I reach my locker, I try to think how to play this. Meanwhile, Alexei doesn’t say anything, only breezes past me and heads for the showers.
After we finish up, we all head down the street to the pizzeria. Normally, hanging out for pizza with the pickup crew would be fun and easygoing, but I’m having a hard time enjoying myself with what’s weighing on me. A part of me feels like I need to tell Gage, but I don’t want to fuck over Alexei, especially if he’s having problems right now. There must be a better way to handle this.
Despite the progress I made in easing him up during the game, I can tell he’s back to being stressed, surely because he knows what he just did to Gage is wrong. And Gage is laughing with his buddies, making jokes, roasting each other, not a clue what his supposed friend has done behind his back.
It’s wrong. Alexei knows it too.
Maybe I’m a fool, but I just don’t feel like this is who Alexei is. I want to believe this was a lapse in judgment, a mistake, but maybe he’s not the chill, nice guy I thought he was.
Only one way to find out.
When we finish at the pizza joint, the crew splits up, some of us heading back to the dorms, and the Alpha Alpha Mu crew to the frat. I tell Luke and Brad that I’ll be at the library for a few hours if they want to enjoy our room for a bit, and they eagerly accept the invitation, which works out well for what I have to do.
As everyone starts heading off into their rooms, I walk alongside Alexei.
He turns to me, his expression twisted up. “Aren’t you going to the library?”
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 behind me, 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.”