Page 57 of Golden

“For fucksake, Wes,” he hisses. “I’ve got to walk out of here at some point and I’d like to be able do it without taking somebody’s eye out.”

A loud laugh tears from my throat, causing the others in the lab to glance over in interest. When I look back at Sol, he’s smiling at me in a way that sobers me instantly.

“I’ve got to train in the morning,” I say, reaching for my coffee. “And I’d like to get some work done on a project I have for class. But how about dinner?”

“Dinner sounds good. Your place or mine?”

“Definitely not yours.” I shake my head with a chuckle.

Sol frowns. “Why not the Den? You got something against it?”

Placing my coffee down, I lean forward, scooting my chair closer so our knees touch. “Because we might be having dinner, but I’m planning on having you for dessert. And the noises I’m going to coax out of you will have the other Wolves asking some potentially difficult questions.”

Sol’s eyes widen, his throat bobbing, and I wonder for a second if I’ve pushed it too far. But then he exhales, leaning a little closer, and I wonder for a fleeting second if he’s going to kiss me.

“Fine,” he breathes. “Your place.”

“Great.”

We stare at each other, and I wonder if his heart is thundering against his ribs as painfully as mine is. But as I start to reach for him, he pulls back and stands, the spell broken.

He glances around before tugging his coat down over the obvious bulge in his jeans. “See you tomorrow, Wes.”

I lean back in my chair, not bothering to hide my own arousal as I know no one can see me from where they’re sitting. Sol’s attention falls on my crotch and a wave of satisfaction washes over me as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“See you tomorrow, Golden Boy.”

Something flashes across his face, but is quickly replaced by his easy smile, and he shakes his head as he turns and walks away.

I wasn’t joking about my plans for him. If he wants to explore his sexuality, I’m going to show him a whole new fucking world tomorrow night. He’ll need a lot of work before he’s ready to let me fuck him, but there’s still a lot of things we can do to build up to that. Putting my earbuds back in, I grin to myself as I turn back to my computer. I can’t remember a time I looked forward to something more.

SOL

This is not a date. But it is. Grimacing as a finger of Alex’s Hennessy burns down my throat, I’m not entirely sure. It took me way too long to get ready because I had no idea what to fucking wear. I mean, we’re eating in his dorm room, and if it were anyone else, it would be a no-brainer—sweats and a hoodie. But he’s not just a friend. So, I should make an effort. Right? After what Wes said yesterday, it seems whatever I wear won’t be staying on for long anyway.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I pour another measure and knock it back with a wince. Usually, Alex would notice if someone had been at his stash, but he barely drinks anymore. Is this what it’s like for girls? I had to have a second shower because I got sweaty again changing shirts so many times. In the end, I settled on nice but comfortable jeans and a navy-blue Henley.

Glancing at my watch, my heart pounding, I realize I’ve put off leaving for so long that now I’m going to be late. Unless I jog to the halls, which I’m not going to do because then I’ll get sweaty again. He’s a guy so he’s not going to be bothered about me being a little late, right?

My eyes fall to the bottle on the counter, but I grab the neck and place it back in Alex’s cupboard. I can’t put this off anymore. I mean, I don’t want to put it off anymore. Shaking out my arms, I grab my jacket off one of the stools at the breakfast bar and head to the door.

The cold night air hits me like a welcomed slap to the face, and I breathe it in as I try to steady my heartrate. Seven o’clock on a Saturday night is busy on campus, with people milling around the paths laughing and talking, their frozen breath fogging the air. I shove my hands in my pockets and keep my head down, hoping no one stops me to talk.

As usual, someone lets me into the halls without any hassle and I try not to hurry as I head toward his room. Despite the freezing night air and my unhurried pace, I’m still a little damp by the time I find myself standing outside his door. There’s no sound coming from inside, and I knock twice before stepping back.

The door swings open and my skin heats as I take in the sight of Wes wearing black sweatpants and a white t-shirt that clings to his broad chest and highlights the rich brown of his skin.

“Hey,” he says, stepping back to let me in.

Behind his glasses, his gaze trails over me, and my echoed ‘hey’ is little more than an exhale.

“What do you want to eat?” he asks, sitting down on the bed and crossing his ankles as he holds up his phone.

I shrug off my jacket and hang it over his desk chair before toeing off my sneakers and taking a seat beside him on the bed, leaving about a foot between us. The only light comes from a small salt lamp, which casts a warm glow over everything.

“Pizza?” Wes asks. “Chinese? Anything you don’t like?”

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