Page 29 of Of Pranks and Passion

I shook my head rapidly. Nuh uh. He was not sticking me in that car. It looked like it cost more than three times my tuition. I might damage it just by sitting in it. What kind of college student owned a fancy sports car like this?

Easton made a tick sound behind his teeth, jogging around the car and opening my door for me. He had to physically manhandle me to get in, and I sat stiffly after he shut the door behind him.

“Relax, Gary,” he chided as he dropped into the driver’s seat. “As long as you’re not eating or smoking in here, you won’t hurt anything.”

“Pretty sure I should have showered before sitting in here. What if my hair smudges the leather or something?”

He laughed, resting his hand on my headrest as he pulled out of the parking spot. I had to move then, because I wasn’t riding in any car without a seatbelt, but I put my backpack on the floor by my feet with care, so I didn’t hurt anything. Were my shoes tracking dirt? Maybe I should’ve taken them off and put them in my backpack.

“You should see your face right now,” Easton snickered.

“Shut up! This car probably costs more than I’d earn in a lifetime! I’m afraid to breathe wrong!”

“You’re cute,” he said with a laugh, completely ignoring my meltdown. But the compliment made me happy, and after a few minutes, I calmed down enough to sit back. No food, no smoking. I wasn’t doing either of those things. Maybe it’d be okay.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EASTON

Not once didGary ask how I could afford my car or how much it cost. He made an accurate assumption that it was expensive, but otherwise he cared more about not damaging it than the implication that I was rich. The more time I spent with him, the more I realized he wasn’t interested in my bank account. He never asked. He never noticed my last name or wondered how much I raked in on fight nights. He reacted even better than my friends did. They were surprised, and in the end they didn’t care, but they at least asked questions first. Gary seemed more interested in me than material shit. And wasn’t that something to think about?

I made the decision to bring him to The Hideout sort of on a whim. I didn’t want to hang around the library, and until I figured out who the hell destroyed all Gary’s stuff, I didn’t want him there alone. I would’ve just gone back to his room with him, maybe distracted him with sex, but it was the resignation that flashed across his face that made me hesitate. This had happened before, and he was just ready to accept it.

Since he wasn’t willing to do much more than report it to campus security, who wouldn’t have done shit without actual witnesses, I decided to bring my friends into it. I wasn’t the only shit-stirrer in the group, though I was the craziest. They would help me come up with ideas to track this fucker down and tear them to pieces. And Gary needed a distraction. My friends were plenty distracting.

I pulled into the parking lot, smirking to myself as Gary twisted to look at the place curiously. At least he didn’t look like he was about to cry anymore. I wouldn’t have known what to do with him if he did.

“Is this your house?”

I snorted, shaking my head as I parked next to Coach’s dark blue sedan. “No. It’s called The Hideout. It’s where my friends and I hang out. We got this place when we were teens in need of our own space. Even as adults, we still hang out here pretty much daily.”

“Wow… That sounds really cool,” he breathed, eyes locked on the building as he clambered out of my car. Luckily, it was distracting enough that he didn’t panic about touching the handles. I would’ve gotten annoyed eventually if I had to constantly open his doors for him.

I’d texted Coach that we were coming so he knew he’d be feeding one more, but I didn’t bother texting everyone else. What was the fun in that? Instead, I got to see their reactions first hand when I showed up with an outsider.

Angel noticed us first. He was not working on his art for once, instead smoking a joint on one of the arm chairs and watching Chuckles and Coach play a game together. Smiley was in the kitchen, from the smell probably making popcorn. It was his go to snack when he was high.

Angel sucked in a breath, rubbing his eyes a few times. “Uh, Smiles? How strong is this stuff?”

Smiley turned around with a frown. “About average. Why?”

“Pretty sure I’m hallucinating. Our Phantom did not just walk in with some rando. Right?”

All eyes swung our way, and Gary shrank back a little. He was gripping the straps of his backpack, his knuckles white, and he looked so damn uncomfortable. Eh. He’d get past it. They weren’t mean. Not unless you deserved it.

“Not hallucinating,” I commented dryly. “Guys, this is Gary. Gary, these idiots are my friends.” I pointed my finger as I called out names. They all just stared, mouths gaping open. Only Coach was polite enough to stand and offer Gary his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

Gary shook his hand, gaping at the large man. I snickered, and Coach rolled his eyes. When Gary looked at me, I shrugged.

“He gets that a lot. Go sit down. I’m gonna get us some drinks.”

He stood there awkwardly until I physically moved him to the couch. When I turned to walk away, he snagged my shirt, leaning to whisper to me.

“I thought we were going to study?”

I couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin that spread across my face. “I lied.”

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