Breck’s idiot junk stirred again. Scowling, he shook his head. “Man, shut up. What is wrong with you?”

“With me?” Kai chuckled. “You’re the one blushing.”

Breck drunk brain churned angrily. He needed to step the fuck up before Kai turned the tables even more. Glowering, he got up in Kai’s grill. “Look. I don’t know what your fucking game is, but you’d best stop messing with me or so help me God, I’ll—”

“You’ll what, jeja?” Kai murmured, their noses all but touching.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your student. I quit your stupid class.”

“Right. My stupid class. To focus on school.”

Kai’s expression was shuttered, and yet Breck detected he’d hit a nerve.

A whiff of Kai’s scent wafted past his nose, triggering memories of when they used to spar. Kai never went easy on him. Never once. Always rode him hard. Until their last match, when Breck put him flat on his back. Of course, two seconds later, Kai had him pinned on his back.

“Right,” he lied, determined to stand his ground.

Kai regarded him, then cocked his head. “Perhaps my classes were just too hard.”

“Please,” Breck puffed out his chest—then absently listed sideways.

Kai steadied him with a warm, strong hand. “So you’ll be back for summer classes then. Once basketball ends.”

Breck’s heart skipped a beat. Shit. Kai had just backed him into a corner. A corner he both resented and absolutely relished the feeling of. The object of Kai’s utter and absolute attention.

Snared in a trap Kai had orchestrated because he wanted Breck back.

His brain fumbled for a reason to decline. He opened his mouth. Stalled, then closed it.

Fuckin’ nothing.

Kai lifted a brow.

But before either one of them could say another word, a stream of guys shoved through the door. Breck stepped back to let them pass, and cleared his throat.

Kai smiled a little, then inclined his head. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Whoa, what?

Breck stilled in surprise. He hadn’t agreed, but Kai was already headed for the sinks. Evidently, their conversation was over—with Kai back on top.