Page 56 of Freshman

“Fine, I don’t want to hate Queenie.”

Alfie turned at the sound of Queenie tapping his nails on his door.

“Thanks, Alfie. That’s real sweet of you.”

“He’s being bloody stupid,” Nate mumbled. “What if my file told you I lure young, attractive men to me and then snap their necks?”

“You had the opportunity, and you didn’t.”

Nate hummed in thought. “Maybe I’m playing the long game, having some fun with you first.”

Alfie closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’m not going to read your file. Even with you saying that, I won’t read it.”

“Why not?”

“I told you why.”

Nate sighed slowly into the door. “Okay, Freshman, you’re not ready. I get it, but it will hurt you more, the longer you leave it.”

“Why would it hurt me?”

“You’re becoming attached. You stay up here longer just to speak to me. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help yourself, and the other night—”

“Nothing happened,” Alfie hissed.

“You want to play it like that, then it’s on you. I’m sure ‘nothing’ will happen again, and I’m offering you an escape. You’re young, naïve, and the least I can do is give you the chance to come to your senses. Read that file, and this will end. Your confusion will end, your desire will end, you’ll be free of me.”

“I am free, unlike some.”

Nate laughed, the smug one that had the hair raising on Alfie’s nape. “I’ve got under your skin, just as you’ve got under mine, but I care about you enough to offer you an out.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t need your out,” Alfie hissed. “I’ve got my own.”

“What does that mean?”

“Tomorrow night…”

“What about tomorrow night?”

Alfie bit his lip. “I’m out clubbing, and I don’t plan on going home.”

“How do your boyfriends feel about you flaunting yourself?”

“We both know there are no boyfriends, but maybe tomorrow night, I’ll find myself a guy. Someone good. Someone whom I one day might call my boyfriend. And if not, at least I’m going home with someone, and who knows, maybe I’ll ask them to tie me down, fuck me raw and call me Freshman.”

“Don’t you dare—”

Alfie was off the landing and down the first set of stairs before Nate could finish.

14

Alfie seethed over the words, young and naïve. Henry and Ryan constantly threw the words at him, but he’d not been expecting Nate to use them.

He still hadn’t read Nate’s file, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t strong enough on his own to end things before he crossed a line with a prisoner. An almost kiss was just that, an almost one. It hadn’t happened. No matter how much he’d wanted to feel his lips against Nate’s, he’d pulled back at the last second and slammed the hatch shut.

So he was going out, he was going to enjoy himself, and he would be leaving with someone that night. Maybe it wasn’t the most mature reaction to Nate’s words, but he was young, as everybody kept reminding him, and he was supposed to be having fun.

“Pretty please,” Tia said, holding out the curling tongs.

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