Chapter 3
School of Hard Knocks
Bash
“So, you’ve managed to catch the eye of the king of Castle Pines. I have to say that’s pretty impressive. Nothing ever holds his attention for very long.”
I looked up from my homework as my roommate threw himself across my bed. He propped his chin in his hands and crossed his ankles as he swung his legs behind him. He was completely adorable, if you liked maniacal leprechauns. The hint of Irish in Malachi O’Shea’s voice let him get away with appearing sweet and unassuming, when he was anything but. He was a redheaded terror and a bit of an uncontrollable slut. My other two roommates, who commandeered the room on the other side of the dorm, let it slip that Mac had been shuffled around all four years because no one could stand living with him for more than six months at a time. He was high maintenance, a total drama queen, and an unrepentant brat. Rumor had it he was slightly off, and after spending a week sharing a room with him, I could for sure say there was something not quite right about the svelte redhead. His emerald green eyes always seemed wild with mischief, and I hadn’t missed the way guys twice his size seemed to give him a wide berth in the hallways.
Sighing, I closed my textbook and hit save on my laptop. I wouldn’t get anything done until I gave Mac the attention he wanted. He was a persistent little shit, and I learned the hard way he was vindictive as hell. I’d ignored him the first couple of nights, trying to make it clear I wasn’t looking to bond or make friends. Mac huffed and puffed around the room in a cloud of indignation, letting me know there would be repercussions for the freeze-out.
The last three nights I’d come back to the dorm, Mac hadn’t been alone in our room. The first night I swore he was waiting for me to make an appearance, so I got an eyeful of him riding a giant Viking who looked like he could play for the Broncos’ offensive line. Mac was loud and obvious. Coyly, he’d asked me if I wanted to join in the fun.
I was so annoyed I’d bolted out of the room, leaving the books and notes I needed to do my homework behind. The second day, he’d been tangled around the same pretty twink who I’d walked in on sucking Rutledge Darby for all he was worth. I’d seen enough of the twink’s sexual skills to last me a lifetime. The day the twink was in my dorm room, I’d braved getting splashed or scarred for life, darting inside to grab my computer and notes. They were still at it when I returned. Mac then proceeded to make more noise than I thought was possible, all night. I wasn’t surprised when both he and the twink were walking funny the next morning. I was wondering how the hell he had so many boys to bring back to the room, when Mac explained that Castle Pines was quietly known as the place for parents to send their problem—i.e., gay—kids. When they didn’t want to deal with their picture-perfect families being seemingly different in the press, Castle Pines was the solution to the problem. Hence the high number of homosexual students, and air of openness and acceptance.
I was also baffled by the lack of supervision. It was a school full of rich, attractive, teenage boys. I couldn’t believe there weren’t room checks to make sure no one was doing exactly what Mac was doing every night. When I asked him about it, he scoffed at me and informed me that each floor had a room monitor, and ours, like everyone else in the school, was scared shitless of Mac. The monitor made it a habit to side-step around our room so he couldn’t, even accidentally, come across my roommate doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
Last night, I’d prepared and taken everything I needed with me to all my classes. I was planning on studying in the library and avoiding the dorm and my insidious roommate altogether, only Mac was smarter than his cherubic, freckled face would lead one to believe.
The same Viking from the first night conveniently bumped into me in the crowded hallway, sending my bag flying, along with all of my notes and computer. Everything scattered across the expensive Berber carpet, leaving the hallway a mess. It took forever to clean up and I was late to class. When I finally looked at my laptop, I noticed the screen was cracked. I was pissed, sleep-deprived, and annoyed beyond belief, but I realized there was no getting around it—the crazy Irish transplant wanted someone to talk to, and for some reason he’d decided that someone was me.
“What are you talking about?” I kicked my bare feet up and rested them on the edge of the bed. Mac let his eyes trace over the intricate anchor I had tattooed on the top of one foot, and the old-school compass rose tattooed across the top of the other. Those fuckers hurt, but they were two of my favorite pieces.
“Edge and Cutter have been asking around about you. They cornered Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee today in the cafeteria, and Cutter stopped to ask me all about you a couple days ago when we were in the bathroom. I told him you were a dick, giving me the silent treatment.” He huffed out a breath that sent his copper-colored hair dancing across his pale forehead. “He told me not to destroy you.”
I snorted out a surprised laugh. “People call him Edge?” It sounded like a superhero name, not a name belonging to an entitled future billionaire.
“People call you Bash.” The Irish lilt was sexy as hell, too bad it belonged to a crazy man. And I hated that he kind of had a point.
“What did the other two tell them?” I hadn’t interacted much with our other roommates. Usually, they were too busy arguing with one another to even notice Mac and I shared the same dorm they did. One was some bigshot baseball player, and the other was a quintessential band geek. I don’t think either of them particularly loved that they were shacked up with a couple of queers, but they played nice when necessary. Not with each other, but with Mac and me.
Mac wiggled his fiery eyebrows and rolled dramatically over onto his back. He threw his arms out to the sides and muttered. “Who knows? Those two just need to fuck and get it over with.”
I snorted again and rocked back in my chair. “I don’t think either one of them is down with dick.”
He tilted his head back, and those wicked green eyes gleamed at me. “Bullshit. All that hostility for as long as it’s been going on? They totally want to bang but won’t admit it.”
I shrugged. “I’ve been to more than one all-boys school. Just because we’re all trapped here with unlimited cock, doesn’t mean everyone wants to sit down at the buffet.” I’d learned that lesson the hard way when I developed an inconvenient crush on a quarterback at the first boys-only private school I’d attended.
“Pfft. Sure, not everyone wants to stuff their face, but you would be surprised how many of these boys want to taste what’s offered. Bringing me back to Edge. That guy has fucked and sucked every available—and some not so available—boys who have come through those front doors. But he’s never asked about a new kid. That requires work, and guys like Rutledge Darby don’t work for a damn thing.”
“You one of the guys he fucked and sucked, Mac?” It was my turn to lift an eyebrow.
His freckled face twisted into a sly grin. “Maybe. I don’t kiss and tell.”
I barked out a laugh and let my feet fall to the floor. “Bullshit.”
His grin widened, and he contorted so he was sitting on the side of the bed between my spread legs. “I know from firsthand experience that the boy is cold. Something inside him is carved out of pure ice. When he looks at you, it’s like winter’s in his eyes. And when he kisses you, it feels like you’re touching a statue. He’s beautiful, a little shinier and brighter than everyone else around him, but he’s also far more dangerous than even I am. And that’s saying something. No one likes to be left out in the cold, and that’s where Edge leaves everyone but Cutter.”
I pushed some of my nearly white hair out of my face and used my foot to rock the chair back even more. It was tilted as far back as it could go on its two legs, and if I lost my balance, I was going to crack my skull open.
“The monster with the black hair?” I’d seen him skulking around the halls, the pretty blond never far from his sight. I’d been doing my best to avoid both of them.
“Yeah. They’ve attended here since kindergarten. Where one goes, the other is usually close behind. If you ask me, it’s pretty obvious Cutter is head-over-heels in love with Edge, even though he screams his straightness to anyone who will listen.” He blew on his nails and made a show of buffing them on his shirt. “Edge would never go there because Cutter is his ride or die, and he wouldn’t fuck that up. But I’m telling you, if Edge opened the door, Cutter would shove his way through it.”
“Do you think everyone you meet is gay and in lust with the closest dick in proximity?” I asked it as a joke, but I was starting to wonder if it was nothing more than wishful thinking on Mac’s part.
Cutter was a prime piece of beefcake for sure, and our roommates had qualities that would endear them to a wandering and discerning queer eye. The baseball player had an ass and thighs that were drool-worthy, and the band geek had the most stunning golden eyes I’d ever seen. Not to mention his hair was long and wild like a lion’s mane. Perfect for burying your face in.
“Shut up. I’m very perceptive. I see what no one wants me to see.” He climbed off the bed and stretched his arms over his head. I liked the elegant, graceful way he moved. I liked his mischievous smirk and the glint in his eyes. He was a handful, but he was kind of fun now that I knew I shouldn’t ever underestimate him. “That’s why I’m here. I don’t see what I’m not supposed to.”
Mac told me his dad was connected—as in, connected to the Irish mob. I wasn’t sure I believed him, but I wasn’t sure I didn’t, either. It would make sense that the guy got his need for vengeance from somewhere.
“I’m here so I can get into a phenomenal university. I don’t have time to play games with Rutledge Darby. I’m not interested in guys who don’t respect the men they’re with. I’m not a new toy, or a willing hole for anyone to use and abuse as they want. I’m not interested, whether he’s king or peasant.” Not to mention, I’d only recently started to thaw from my parents’ perpetual ice-out. I wasn’t about to get myself lost in another blizzard.
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on. All work and no fun makes Bash a boring boy.” His look was vicious and told me without words he didn’t regret the time he’d spent as Edge’s plaything.
I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face. “He’s not my type. We’re in Aspen. I’ll find a snowboarder or a guy in a band, someone who’s passing through and won’t be a distraction if I want to have some fun. Tall, built, and blond isn’t what gets me going. I like a little more…” I trailed off and rolled my eyes at how ridiculous I was about to sound. “Edge.”
Mac snickered at me and opened his mouth to retort, when we were interrupted by loud voices coming from across the living room. We exchanged an amused look as one masculine voice shouted, “How hard is it to pick up a wet towel?!”
Another deep voice yelled back, “I wasn’t even in the bathroom this afternoon, Klein! Fuck you!”
Klein was the band geek, Theo the quintessential jock.
Mac wiggled his eyebrows up and down and twirled around. He resembled a demented little elf. “That’s my wet towel. I like to leave it to watch them go at each other. I swear to God when they finally do fuck, I want front row seats. It’s going to be so hot.” He fanned himself dramatically, as I turned back to my chemistry homework. “I wouldn’t mind getting an eyeful when Edge finally wears you down, because it will happen. Guys like Edge get what they want, so you might as well enjoy the ride.”
No one was riding anyone anywhere. I was staying put. I was going to enjoy the stillness and the security of being in one place for the foreseeable future. Nothing and no one was going to mess that up, no matter how determined or persistent... or stupidly good looking… they might be.