Hunter’s bed was stripped as well, but apparently they’d run out of ice because instead of the full ice bath, all of Hunter’s underwear were strewn across the bed, and baby powder had been dumped all over them. His note read, Sigmas shit their pants. Hunter stalked over and swept the laundry from his bed, sending a powdery cloud wafting through the room. “Bastards.”
Devon coughed. “At least your bed is mostly dry. And smells baby fresh.”
Hunter looked over at the mess on Devon’s side of the room. “No shit. No way you can sleep on that. Let’s get all of that off of yours so it can dry out. I’ve got extra blankets and pillows in the closet. You can share my bed tonight.”
Devon lifted a brow. “You’re not even going to buy me dinner first? What kind of boy do you think I am?”
Hunter grabbed an ice cube and chucked it at him. “Shut it, Crowe. You’re lucky I’m not making you sleep on the petri couch.”
Ugh. No way. Devon shuddered at the thought of putting any exposed skin on the main couch downstairs. Two decades of parties, hookups, and God knows what else on that fabric. “Screw that. I think the floor in the bathroom is cleaner than that couch. But seriously, you sure you’re okay with sharing a bed? I mean, if you’re weirded out by that or you’re worried about what the other guys will say, it’s fine. I can find somewhere to crash.”
“With one of your on-again, off-again boyfriends?”
“No, I don’t have boyfriends. Too much work. I have acquaintances who I occasionally do dirty things with.”
Hunter sniffed. “No need to go whore yourself out for a bed to sleep in. I’m fine. Just don’t steal my covers, ’cause it’s fucking frigid in here.”
Hunter walked over to the closet and dumped out a laundry bin, lined it with a garbage bag, and then brought it over to Devon’s bed to start moving the ice into it. They worked in silence for a while, just the clink of the ice hitting the plastic container filling the room, but the quiet was anything but calm for Devon. He was going to share a bed with Hunter. They’d roomed together for almost a year. Things were comfortable. Good. Devon admired without crossing any lines. But it was going to be fucking torture sharing that small bed with the warm, hard body of the university’s favorite athlete.
Devon grabbed the bin, walked it to bathroom to dump the ice in the tub, and then returned to the room to find Hunter making the bed with new sheets and a thick blanket. Clouds of leftover powder hung in the air. “Well, aren’t you Mr. Prepared.”
“My mom bought me two of everything when I left for school. I think she’s under the impression the house has a maid service that’s changing my sheets weekly.”
Devon strolled over and pinched the luxurious fabric between his fingers. “Damn, these feel expensive.”
“Knowing my mother they’re probably made from angel tears and the golden hair of newborn babies or something.” He tucked the sheet around the bottom corner of the bed.
Devon laughed. “Your parents that bad, huh?”
Hunter had talked about his family before, and Dev knew that Hunter had purposely gone to school in California to get as far away as possible, but he didn’t know much about them beyond the fact that his dad was in politics and his mom was high maintenance.
“Mom’s okay. She just makes being rich her job. Dad’s a nightmare. If he saw what happened here tonight, he’d be calling lawyers to sue the other frat.”
“And what about the fact that you’re going to be bunking up with a gay boy?”
Hunter’s expression darkened. “He’d kill me first, ask questions later. He may do that anyway if he finds out we room together.”
Devon unzipped his jacket, frowning. “It’s hard to imagine you coming from such a closed-minded family. You’re like the poster boy for acceptance.”
Hunter shrugged, looking younger than his years all of a sudden. “My dad’s a great reverse role model. I watched what he did and then did the opposite. It’s worked for me so far. It got me here to California. It led me to major in engineering. And that gay dude I was supposed to run screaming from? Well, that guy turned out to be the best friend I’ve ever had. So, fuck my dad and his opinions.”
The words sent warmth spreading through Devon’s chest, and he walked over and cupped the back of Hunter’s neck. Despite the potentially intimate touch, Hunter didn’t shrink away—absolute trust that Devon wouldn’t cross a line ever present. Devon touched his forehead to Hunter’s. “You’re a good guy, Hunter Riley. I’m more than lucky to call you friend.”
He smirked, that spark of mischief coming into his dark eyes. “Stop trying to flirt before bed, Crowe. You’re not getting in my pants.”
Devon leaned back and cocked his head. “Can’t blame a guy for trying, right? You know, a quick fuck would warm us up. You could close your eyes and think of England. I’d be gentle.”
Hunter pulled off his jacket and tossed it to the side. “Do I look like someone who’d need gentle?”
The short, simple statement sent a bolt of heat right through Devon. His gaze snapped up. “What?”
“I mean, obviously I don’t know, but isn’t that one of the benefits of fucking a guy? You don’t have to be so gentle.”
“So you’d want it rough?” Devon wet his lips and forced out a half laugh. “Now you’re just trying to turn me on.”
“Shut up and get in bed.” Hunter tugged off his shirt, leaving him in just a pair of sweats. “I’m just saying. When I’m with a girl, I’m always worried about how much bigger I am than she is. I’m afraid I’m going to crush her under my weight or grab her too hard. I would think with a guy, that wouldn’t be as big of an issue.”
Devon tried to ignore the fact that Hunter’s bare chest was in full view. He’d seen Hunter shirtless a thousand times. The kid said sleeping with a shirt made him feel claustrophobic, but knowing