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I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair as I turned and trudged back into my condo—or prison cell, as it felt these days. I mean, what else could I call my living situation? When I wasn’t in school or out with the guys, I was stuck back here with the cellmate that my wardens—parents—had chosen for me.
Don’t get me wrong, it was more a luxurious white-collar prison than anything threatening, but that didn’t make it any less stifling, and every time I turned around, Caleb was rightthere.
“Preston leave already?”
See? Always there.“Why?” I looked over to where he’d just stepped out of his bedroom. “Were you planning to kiss him goodbye?”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “You’re a real ass, you know that?”
“And?” I marched into the kitchen, hoping to put some much-needed distance between us. But just my luck, he followed.
“You going to be like this for the rest of our time at Astor?”
I yanked open the fridge and glared at him over the top of the door. “Only when you’re around.”
Caleb braced his hands on the counter. “I don’t know why you’re so pissed. I’m the one who had to move.”
“So you tell me ateveryopportunity you get.” I grabbed a Coke from the top shelf, then spotted a four-pack carton of hipster brew sitting on the other side and felt my blood start to boil. “How many times do I have to tell you? You are the bottom in this place, not me. Bottom two shelves in the fridge and bottom three shelves in the pantry.” I yanked the carton out of the fridge, clanging the bottles together. “Keep your piss water on your shelf.”
Caleb rounded the end of the counter and snatched the beer out of my hand. “Jesus, calm down, would you? I didn’t have any room.”
“Welcome to my world.”
“Oh, because I take up so much space.”
He had no idea.
Up until that fateful dinner with our parents, I’d been able to deal with the fact that he’d creep into my mind at the mostinconvenient times. But now I was stuck with him invading my brainandhome.
“Just move, would you.”
Caleb let out a sigh and stepped aside, and as I brushed by, the familiar scent of his soap found me. He’d been using the same brand since we lived together, and as it weaved its hypnotic spell around me, I had a flash of myself in the shower, age sixteen, with that bar of soap and my cock in hand, imagining it was his.
“Travis?”
“What?”
“Preston said he was checking I was alive. The guys haven’t asked before now? I figured they’d be giving you shit all week about this situation.”
Yeah, so had I, but as if they knew better than to fuck with me right now, they’d left it alone. “They only bother with things that matter.”
Caleb grabbed a beer and popped off the top. “And I don’t, that’s what you’re saying.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re pathetic.” He flicked his bottle top into the trash. “There’s so much more to life than the group of you.”
“You only say that because you’re no longer one of us.”
“Right.” He strolled out of the kitchen and stopped beside me. “’Cause you’resocool.”
He continued into the living room and scooped up the remote, and I didn’t even notice the way his jeans stretched tight across his ass. Not at all.
“Cooler than you.”
“Uh huh, so much so you have to tell me.” Caleb flopped down on the couch and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “Save it for someone who’ll be impressed with your shit. I know better.”
Sure he did. He’d been happy enough to be one of us until everything went to hell.
