me apply for scholarships, grants, and loans without my parents’ input. Thanks to him, I was on track to receive an engineering degree in May. It was my ticket out of the trailer park for good, my ticket to a better life. I owed my best friend everything.
Which is why you shouldn’t be looking at his younger brother.
No matter how I bottled my feelings, they kept looking for a way out. Maybe that’s what the secret admirer gift was. My way out.
I already knew that, stupid or not, I was going to do it again. It was just a matter of when.
A fist hammered on my door. “Yo, Ace! We’re going out.”
Keith was one of the biggest lushes in the house, and he was always ready for a party. I glanced at my pile of books, which I’d yet to crack. I really shouldn’t get hammered on a school night.
The door swung open and Keith barged in. “Stop jerking off and come be my wingman! The chicks always flock to you.”
An exaggeration. Rolling my eyes, I stood. “What do I get out of the deal?”
“You get laid, man.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You think I need you to do that?”
“Fuck you. I’ll buy you a couple shots,” he said. “But just a couple.”
I grinned. That was exactly what I was after. As a student who didn’t have his expenses covered by mommy or daddy, I needed to save my money for more important things than the next day’s hangover.
Like another gift for Benji.
Maybe. Maybe not.
But I didn’t want to think about that. It made me feel foolish, idiotic, and strangely uncomfortable in my own skin. Nothing a couple of shots of tequila wouldn’t clear up — at least for now.
Benji
Dre grabbed another handful of kisses, and I gave him a stern look. “That’s the last of them for you.”
He huffed. “But I’m helping with your suspect list.”
I rolled my eyes. Dre had read my secret admirer note while I was in class. I should have hidden it away in my desk, but of course I couldn’t use my brain when Ace was there offering to take me to lunch.
I might have had a pile of candy on my bed, but he was even better eye candy. At six feet two inches, he towered over me. He looked the part of frat-boy jock with a strong jaw, an athletic build, and biceps that could make any gay boy cry for him. But his sports days were over; he’d left basketball in high school, and he was way smarter than the average jock. That was probably me stereotyping, but Ace was seriously brilliant, and I wasn’t biased at all by the black-rimmed glasses he wore when studying that made him ten times sexier.
I envied his brawn and his brains, to be honest. College was a lot harder than I anticipated, and I was never a great student to begin with. I loved art, and I was here to find a way to use my art to make a living. I had no intention of giving up my passion for manga and anime, but I wasn’t naïve — or talented enough — to believe I could rely on that to pay the bills.
My future was most likely in graphic arts, but I planned to study animation, videography, and anything else that might transition me into a real career. It was early days, and I had time to figure out exactly which artistic discipline suited me best — or at least wouldn’t make me want to strangle someone. Because working in some office, doing spreadsheets like my dad? No. Fucking. Way.
“I don’t need your help,” I told Dre.
“Hey, you wouldn’t have half those names without me.”
“I don’t even know half these names,” I exclaimed. “You might know everyone in the building, but I don’t.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to help.”
He reached for another candy and I rapped his knuckles with my pen.
“Ow!”
My phone rang and I answered it without looking at the display. Only two people ever called: Mom and Jeremy. And Mom only called on weekends. Ace was strictly a text-only kind of guy.
That meant it was my annoying big brother.
“I’m still alive,” I answered.
“Very funny.”
“Hi, big brother!” Dre called.
Dre had gotten to know my brother when Jeremy had called to check up on me approximately one billion times my first week on campus. He felt guilty for pressuring me to enroll and then bailing. He also knew better than most my tendency to