Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I grab my phone and show Oliver.
It’s an anonymous comment I got a few weeks ago that sent a chill down my spine.
Anonymous38374: You care about Sevan, don’t you? Shame he won’t be able to run, when I find him. Crimson College security needs to step up.
“Christ, Niko. You get comments like that?”
“I get creepy anonymous comments all the time. Stalkery ones. But no one has ever mentioned a family member before. The person knows about my cousin, and the fact that he goes to Crimson.”
“It has to be your ex, right?”
“I don’t know if the comment is from Callum or someone he knows. I have to be here at Crimson until I know what’s going on.”
“Why can’t your cousin in Daggers protect himself? You have to swoop in and be a hero?”
“He’s injured. Badly.”
“Oh,” Oliver says, his expression softening. “Is he the guy with two broken legs?”
“Two broken legs and a bruised ego. He couldn’t defend himself even if he tried. He refuses to buy a gun, even though I’ve seen him win every fistfight he’s ever been in.”
“Shit. How did he injure himself?”
“At the gym. Barbell with a wicked amount of weight fell on his shins.”
“Holy fuck.”
“Yeah.”
Oliver is clearly putting together puzzle pieces in his mind. “That’s why you actually agreed to come here,” he finally says. “You hated the prep school so much. I thought you’d never step foot somewhere like Crimson, but… you did it for someone else.”
“I never thought I’d be here, either.”
We’re both silent for a while.
I look around Oliver’s room again, taking it all in.
It’s very Oliver.
Stacks of books on the desk. Endless sticky notes that are there to remind him about various events and exams, and some of them have bullet points on them, too. One list seems to be about his gym routine, another about volunteering opportunities. And clearly he has a roommate, judging by the unmade bed on the opposite side of the room.
“I didn’t know your cousin went here,” Oliver says. “If you’d like, I can talk to Roman. He’s very good at protecting people, and he always wishes he had more reasons to do it—”
“Where the fuck is your roommate?” I interject.
“Percy is dating a girl in Luros Sorority. He’s been practically glued to her bed every night lately.”
“You have a roommate named Percy? God, this place really is a private school.”
To my surprise, he laughs, just a little.
“Percy’s full name is Perciville Amadeus Von Baron, the Second. It’s very private school.”
I snort. “You’re making that up.”
“I’m really not.”
When I look back at him, he’s sitting up with his back leaned against the wall that frames his bed. I watch the curve of his throat and Adam’s apple as he swallows, and I love the idea that he still has my cum inside him.
“Why don’t you just ask somebody else to be your date to the parties?”
He gives me an intense glance. “I’ve tried. I’ve asked six people, Niko. You think you were my first choice?”
“Are you asking for me to hurt you?”
I reach to pull his hair, and he shoves me back.
“Everyone has someone else they’re bringing, or someone else they’re fucking. Story of my life,” Oliver says. “I want so much, and I don’t know why it’s so hard to get.”
“Whatever, fuck machine.”
“Stop calling me that,” he says suddenly, anger flaring in his tone.
“Why? You don’t like the fuckboy reputation either, do you, Ollie?”
“Because it’s false. I’ve never even… nevermind. Forget it.”
He stands up and strides over to the minifridge at the edge of the room, cracking it open and pulling out some sort of sports drink. He chugs the orange liquid fast, and again I’m fixated on how his throat moves as he drinks it.
His goddamn muscles are ridiculous.
I can’t believe I’m looking at the guy who used to be scrawny and covered in acne.
He’s like some of the models I idolize now, complete with the V-shape at the bottom of his torso that leads down past the waistband of his pants.
I can feel my body getting hotter as I watch him. So much perfect, soft skin. I want to mess with him even more.
Pinch him and lick him anywhere it’ll make him gasp.
Torture him endlessly because he’s just too good to fuck with.
“I was kidding, by the way. I’ll do this fake shit with you,” I tell him. “One condition. You have to let me film you more, anytime I ask.”
He frowns. “Not happening.”
“Not for the website, babe. For my personal collection.”
He pauses and I watch a blush settle on his cheeks.
Normally I’d never ask anyone to be in my videos unless they expressly volunteered.
But I saw how Oliver came to life when I started filming us. I felt him get harder as he realized he was on camera.
He loved it.
His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks.