Better Be Sure (Harrison Campus 1)

“Shit. I’m so screwed up. Why does any mention of them still hurt?”

Marcus sighed, and the bed dipped. “He shouldn’t have said what he did. It’s okay to be upset.”

Jack turned his head and stared at his brother.

“I have your back, okay? Just try to remember Harper’s a dick. He’s not worth it.”

“Harper’s a dick.” Jack repeated. “But he was right: you are my family.”

Chapter Seventeen

Tuesday evening rolled around, warm and stuffy and on the brink of a thunderstorm.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Jack practically ran into his room. Marcus sat at his desk reading. When he looked up, Marcus gave him a shit-eating grin.

“Ready for your date night, Jackie?”

Squinting, he snapped his head back. “What have you done with Marcus? Oh wait, Nessa said yes.”

“Nessa said yes.”

“Told ya she would.”

“Yeah, but she actually likes me.”

Jack laughed. “Why else would she say yes?”

“I wondered if it was out of some profound pity for me,” Marcus admitted. “But now I know that can’t be true.”

“What convinced you?”

Marcus lit up like Jack hadn’t seen in forever. “She kissed me back. I was speaking in a real rush after she said yes, I haven’t a clue what I was saying. Then she just kissed me. And told me to pick her up on Saturday.” His smile widened until he was showing teeth.

“I’m happy for you.” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder once and then let go. “You excited for the formal now?”

“Nervous is the word.”

Nervous. Jack understood. Ed would be arriving to pick him up any minute now, and he needed things to go smoothly. Then he needed to find a good segue into telling Ed he was taking someone else to the formal.

He checked his phone again, reading Ed’s last text telling him to wear jeans, boots, and a jacket. Did he know how warm it was outside? Or did he expect it to storm?

Jack decided on his ass jeans and a T-shirt with a leather jacket over it. He didn’t own boots, but he had some hiking shoes and wore them.

He stuffed his keys into his pocket when Seth yelled at him through the door. “Someone downstairs for ya, Jackson.”

Marcus waggled his brows and swatted his ass as Jack sucked in a grin and headed to Ed.

Ed waited nervously in the entry foyer, glancing over the framed pictures of past graduates. Jack paused down the hall, glancing at the one from ’89 and then back to his guy, also in jeans and a brown leather jacket. “Hey,” he said, drawing near.

“Hey back,” Ed said, scanning the empty hall before winking at him.

Darren exited the front common room, almost knocking into him. Jack prepared for whatever fuck-ass taunt he’d throw at him, but Darren backed up, murmuring something that might have passed for an apology.

Jack must have misheard. Or maybe Brit had been right about the guy not being such a dick like Greg and Harper.

Darren hurried off, checking Ed out twice over his shoulder before he hit the stairs.

Ed cleared his voice. “You ready?”

“When you are.”

Ed came forward, chest rising as he took Jack’s hand and threaded their fingers. Jack noted the tremble and squeezed. “What was your plan for the evening?”

A grin lit Ed’s face, and he pulled him outside and pointed across to the parking lot, where a red motorbike gleamed in the evening sun.

Echoing their first date, Ed leaned close and spoke at Jack’s ear. The words tickled from ear to toe. “You wanna ride?”

Oh. Hell. Yes.

They put on helmets and straddled the bike, and Jack pressed himself tight against Ed’s back, arms wrapped around his waist. Exhilaration fueled Jack as the bike throttled to life and they cruised out of the parking lot. Adrenaline pounded with anxiety as they wove through town, and Jack’s grip doubled on Ed on the traffic-choked highway.

Ed quickly navigated them to free, open roads, and stuffy exhaust air freshened—the wind rushed tens of scents toward him: cut grass, pollen, trees—even the small lake they passed made the air taste different.

With Jack molded to Ed’s back, they shifted as if they were one, leaning into corners and speeding up when the road was straight and free. His heart caught in his throat, and the buzz bounced through him and out his feet. Over and over—combined with the hope swelling inside him that picking him up had been a success. God, he felt so… light.

It was far more intense than driving a car ever could be. His senses were heightened, and thrills rushed over him.

But fear held him too.

When they merged onto the highway to head toward their restaurant, a passing truck made him seize up. Suddenly he wasn’t on a date, riding with the guy of his dreams, but he was on his parents’ boat, wind whipping in his face, imagining the fear of their last moments….