Shawn snorted a laugh. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you?”
“Your cousin did, for a long time.”
Shawn smiled, shaking his head. Sage was a bit naive. Even though he was younger than his cousin, Shawn often felt he was the older one. “So what did you really do?”
“Manslaughter. Got drunk, got into a bar fight, someone died.”
A shiver of unease ran down Shawn’s spine. He couldn’t imagine what this guy and Sage had in common, but his cousin was clearly happy. That was the important thing, wasn’t it?
Shawn was quiet for the rest of the drive.
“Thanks,” he said when the car finally stopped in front of his building. To his surprise, Xavier got out, as well. Shawn chuckled. “No one will attack me here. You don’t have to—”
“Sage told me to get you home. I’ll get you home.” Xavier frowned, looking over Shawn’s shoulder. “Someone’s watching us. You know that guy?”
Shawn turned around and froze. Rutledge got out of his Mercedes and stalked towards them.
“Yeah, I know him,” Shawn said.
“He looks pissed,” Xavier murmured.
Shawn let out a laugh. “He pretty much always looks pissed.” He cringed—it came out almost affectionate—and Xavier shot him a sharp, assessing look.
Rutledge came to a halt.
“Hey,” Shawn said.
Rutledge gave him the glare he’d been giving him the entire week before slowly sweeping his gaze over Xavier with such a look of disdain that it would make anyone feel two feet tall. “Who is that…person?”
Xavier narrowed his eyes, clearly disliking Rutledge’s trademark haughty, condescending tone.
“Xavier Otero,” he said with a nice smile, stepping closer to Shawn and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I was just giving Shawn a ride.” Shawn inhaled sharply at the dirty undertone in his voice.
Rutledge clearly didn’t miss it, either. His shoulders tensed up and his gaze raked over Shawn, as if looking for evidence, before shifting to Xavier’s car. A sneer curled his lips. “I hope the ride was comfortable.”
Xavier’s eyes flickered to Rutledge’s Mercedes. “I don’t need a flashy car for that.”
“Nicely done, guys, that wasn’t passive-aggressive at all,” Shawn said, rolling his eyes. He looked at Xavier. “Don’t take it personally—he’s nasty to everyone. And you”—Shawn looked at Rutledge—“tone it down a bit. He’s an ex-convict, not your student.”
“He’s a criminal?” In a blink of an eye, Shawn was yanked away from Xavier and pushed behind Rutledge’s back.
Shawn yelped. “Hey! Are you out of—”
“Get in your car and drive away,” Rutledge told Xavier, his voice very, very soft. “Now. Come near him again and I’ll make sure you’ll be back in your cell in no time.”
Xavier stiffened, his fists clenching. “Are you threatening me?”
“Whoa, calm the fuck down, both of you!” Shawn stepped between the two men, putting a hand on Rutledge’s chest. He glared at them. Arrogant idiots, both of them. “You.” He looked at Xavier. “Thanks for the ride, but please go home and fuck my cousin. No one’s threatening you—it’s just Rutledge’s charming personality. Go.”
Xavier nodded stiffly, climbed into his car and started it.
When the car disappeared out of sight, Shawn turned to Rutledge. “And you. What happened to jealousy being ‘for men with small dicks and low self-esteem?’”
“Nothing,” Rutledge said testily. “Are you stupid? Do you know what criminals like him do to pretty boys like you in prison? Men like him aren’t used to asking.”
Shawn chuckled. “Are you worried for me? I’m touched. Careful, or I’ll start thinking you actually give a damn.”
Rutledge glowered at him but said nothing.
“What are you even doing here?” Shawn asked. Belatedly, he realized his hand was still on Rutledge’s chest and was stroking it. Quickly, he removed it and shoved it into the pocket of his jacket. He glanced at Rutledge’s car. “Wait, were you waiting for me?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You could have called if you wanted to talk. You have my number.”
“I don’t. I erased it.”
Shawn’s eyebrows flew up. “Why? Did it bother you?”
A muscle twitched at Rutledge’s temple. “Because I had no need for it.”
“Then why are you here?”
Rutledge’s lips pressed together, his eyes boring into Shawn. “I’m here to warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“Yes, to warn you. Your performance in my class continues to be terrible—”
“Because you’ve been absolutely brutal!”
“—so don’t expect me to pass you only because of your pretty face, and lips, and eyes, and—” Rutledge cut himself off and glared at Shawn, as if it was his fault he’d just said what he said. “My point is, you won’t get special treatment, Wyatt.”
Shawn leaned toward his lips and whispered harshly, “And you came all the way here just to tell me that? I call bullshit.”
Their breathing mixed, both swift and strained, the only sound in Shawn’s ears.
Christ, Shawn couldn’t stand it anymore. He was trembling, aching—
When Rutledge crushed their lips together, the first thing Shawn felt was relief. God, finally. And then everything else faded away; there were big hands on his nape, a firm body against his, and lips, hot and searing—so good—and Shawn was moaning, trying to kiss him harder, take him deeper.