I’ve been lucky enough to avoid Landon for the most part. We’ve come into view of each other a couple of times, but that’s expected since we’re on the same baseball team and sometimes hang out with the same group of guys.
I know effort on Landon’s part has also ensured we aren’t stuck together, and even though I’m doing it as well, it pisses me off that he feels I need to be avoided. Believe me, it makes more sense in my head.
We haven’t discussed it, but there’s an unspoken routine. I get home mid-evening and have the room to myself, falling asleep before he comes back, and I get up and leave early so he has the room to himself in the morning. It’s worked the last three days since returning to campus, but I know it’s not a schedule we can keep up. Once practices really kick into high gear, we’re both going to be completely exhausted before the sun sets. I can’t really expect him to stay gone until after ten to give me time alone.
My eyes lock on a kissing couple in the hallway, my steps slowing to give them a little more time since the girl across the hall from my room seems to be struggling between the decision of unlocking her door and kissing her male companion.
Co-ed dorms suck, and they’re loud as hell. We had curfews in the athletics dorms—not just be in your room by a certain time but shut-the-fuck-up and don’t-disturb-others kinds of rules. All hours of the day and night, I hear women cackling. I’m an only child and never had to suffer through shit like that at home.
They finally disappear into the room, the door hardly shutting before the moaning begins.
Jesus, they’re in there together.
How is this only now hitting me?
I can no longer bring a hot guy back to my room because I don’t have my own space.
My gut swims, queasy at the knowledge that Landon is notorious in the locker room for bringing girls back to his suite. I witnessed it once, and that was enough for me to take the long way to the stairs so I wouldn’t run the risk of seeing it again when I walked past his door.
I couldn’t do it. There’s no way I would bring a guy back to a space I shared with him, but I know Landon won’t extend the same courtesy.
I’m sick to my stomach, grateful I showered before leaving the locker room so I can just fall into my bed.
I scream into my pillow. The semester hasn’t even started yet, and I want it to be over.
A round of laughter seeps under the door, and I feel like that old man who yells at the kids on his lawn because I want to poke my head out and tell the happy people out there to fuck off.
I’ve never been the guy to dim someone else’s happiness. It’s why I sacrificed some of my own, often while trying to make sure Landon was always smiling. I wasn’t exactly smothering myself because if he was so invested in a movie, then he wouldn’t notice how my eyes were always on him in the dark. I didn’t hate Chinese food, but I did love that groan he’d make at the first taste of broccoli beef on his tongue.
Hating myself a little more now than I did yesterday, I strip down to my boxers and slide under my sheet. It feels great against my still overheated skin.
Not for the first time, I consider quitting the baseball team, but that wouldn’t be fair to my dad. I’m not here on a scholarship, and he works hard, putting in extra hours at work to help with tuition. Those hours take him away from Sophia and my baby brother. Being on the team comes with free housing and a discounted meal plan because athletes eat a lot. There’s no way I would selfishly add those expenses to my dad’s plate.
I’m just drifting off, my mind trying to think of ways to become independently wealthy, when the door opens.
This isn’t the first time since arriving back on campus that he’s returned before I could shut my head down enough to fall asleep, so I do what I did last night. I lie completely still and pray he thinks I’m out.
Tonight is harder than it was last night as anticipation fills my bloodstream.
Landon grunts as he begins to strip down, and the whisper of his clothes hitting the floor doesn’t piss me off like they did before.
“Mmm,” comes from across the room, and my ears perk up.
My cock stiffens, remembering last night starting exactly the same way. I should roll over or something, give him some tiny hint that I’m not asleep without having to have an actual conversation, but that would be the kind thing to do.