Page 18 of Drag Me Up

Eli can kiss my lily white ass. If Steve comes anywhere near me or my vehicles this week, someone isgoing to end up in the fucking hospital. I quickly glance through the rest of my messages so that I know what I’m walking into when I get home.

Toby:

Did you pop my econ professor’s ass cherry?

BFF Daddy:

Eli is pissed.

Kitten is worried. Toby is drunk.

Come home safe.

Lucky says he wants a baby brother?

Hold up… Toby’s Econ professor?

I can vaguely remember something about him from one of Lucky’s impromptu “Protect Eric from Dwelling onThat EventMovie Days” a few months ago.

“You should have seen it,” Toby says as he flops down on the pile of cushions. I hate to say it, but the little shit is a welcome distraction. There’s no way that Lucky could have known that Mulan was a bad choice for me. I’m fine with the live action, but the song Reflections guts me. It reminds me of my senior year of high school, how I lost who I am completely without my guiding light, my north star, after he disappeared from my life.

“And I mean, he’s like probably THE hottest guy on campus. Totally Master material,” Toby continues on with his story. “Like remember when he manhandled thatasshole that was all up in your face? This was like that but like a zillion trillion quadrillion times better.”

His description definitely intrigues me, but I can’t seem to reach deep enough for a genuine smile. Lucky seems invested in the story. Toby is animatedly reenacting some sort of scene with a fight and the professor doing something to break it up.

“And then Professor Barnes legit growled at them,” he exclaims before flopping back onto the pile of cushions.

“Barnes?” My heart skips a beat. Could it be? Mattie was always good with numbers.

Toby sits up and nods excitedly. “Yeah, Professor Lewis Barnes. Like he’s got the old man name part of a professor, but oomph is he so not an old man.”

I hurriedly put the car in reverse and back out of the parking space. I need to get back to the house and get more information from the drunken pup. If Lewis is really that same Professor Barnes, I need to fix this. I can’t jeopardize any of the boys’ educations because I can’t keep my ass to myself. I refuse to let my fuckups hurt the people I love.

15

MATT

Waking up to the sound of the door closing was not how I expected to greet this morning. Falling asleep with King in my arms after we made love was easily in my top three memories of all time. Number one will always be the day Mom introduced me to the family she worked for and I got to meet the little boy who would steal away the biggest chunk of my heart with a single smile. Number two is the last memory I have of my father. I remember him hugging me, telling me how proud he was of me winning the math tournament in second grade.

I thought King felt the same as I do. I’m not sure how much of last night was just my wishful thinking at this point, but I think it’s safe to say I’m not straight.

Understatement of the century right there.

Laughing, I half expect a bellboy to be pounding on the door telling me I have to leave now that the person paying for the suite has left. Isn’t that the way these things go? Wham. Bam. Thank you, Ma’am… well, Man.

Feeling like shit for being dumb enough to expect feelings from a bar hookup, I hop in the shower to at least feel like I’m getting something worthwhile out of this room. I’d never be able to afford a room in this hotel, let alone a suite, on my salary while I’m still paying off my student loans for my doctorate. Wrenshaw isn’t exactly an elite school, but if I can make tenure next year, maybe I could save up for a night at this place after a year or two.

After drying off using some of the softest towels I’ve ever experienced, I feel a bit grungy pulling on the clothes from last night. My eyes are itchy and dry, but I can’t do anything about my contacts until I get home. I don’t usually wear them to sleep in, but I left my glasses at the trailer. I wasn’t planning on staying out all night. Pulling my hair up to get it out of the way and hopefully prevent a tangled mess, I double check that I have everything.

Keys? Phone? Wallet?

Maybe searching the suite for things I might have left is a good excuse, but I know that I’m searching for a note or something. Something inside of my chest starts to hurt when I realize my cutie didn’t leave me anything. I meant nothing to him.

Pulling the covers back on the bed to make sure housekeeping cleans the linens, a scrap of shiny fabric falls to the ground. I feel a bit like a perv putting his panties in my pocket, but I feel like I deserve something to remember this night by.

Dejected, I leave the room and head for the door tothe suite. Before I can turn the handle, an envelope is pushed under the door. It is labeled with my name, so I open it up, praying it’s not the bill for the room.

Lewis,

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