Fallen University: Year Two

“You and me both,” I muttered with a sigh.

He smiled at me sympathetically. “I think yours was probably harder to deal with than mine. I had to adapt because my parents—before they built their little commune homestead thing—they were caravaners.”

Xero frowned at him in confusion. “They were what?”

“Caravaners,” Jayce repeated. “We lived in an RV and traveled all over the place with a bunch of other people who also lived in RVs. I saw forty-nine states by the time I was six, and went all through Central America and Canada. We even took one trip to South America, but then there was all this political unrest and stuff, and my dad almost got shot, so they decided it would be safer for me to live in a house. That was when I was eleven, I think.”

“So your family were gypsies?” Kingston wrinkled his nose. “Ugh.”

“That word is offensive,” Jayce said matter-of-factly. “But no, we weren’t. I just told you. We were caravaners.”

“And what did your caravaner parents do for money?” Kingston asked.

Jayce shrugged. “Eh, I don’t know. My dad’s a professor and my mom’s a writer, so they probably just published stuff. I never really paid attention.”

Kingston gaped, then shook his head in disbelief. “I knew the specifics of the family business by the time I was eight. I was practically raised in a boardroom.”

“That does sound boring.” Kai stood up on the rock, stretching his arms over his head with a smirk.

“Not at all, it was fascinating. Not to mention, educational. I had the highest marks in math all through school.”

“Congratulations,” Xero said wryly. “Did you ever have friends?”

“I had colleagues.” Kingston lifted his chin with a sniff. “Children of my parents’ colleagues, in fact.”

“Yay, nepotism,” Kai drawled.

“Don’t tell me you were playing house with your colleagues,” I said with a grin.

“Of course we didn’t play house.” He grimaced, as if the very idea was distasteful. “We played tycoon.”

“How do you play tycoon?” Hannah clambered up onto the rock beside Kai.

“Well, it always starts with a board meeting. You decide which direction you want to take the business in. There’s lots of shouting and disagreeing, and then eventually you take a vote on which small business to crush. Then someone has to play the small business owner, and you open negotiations. The goal is to give him an offer he can’t refuse.” Kingston grinned evilly and made a tent of his fingers.

“Wow. Sounds thrilling.” I rolled my eyes. God lord, how am I actually falling for these men?

The thought was so natural and spontaneous that it caught me entirely off-guard. My body jerked slightly, and I cleared my throat, hoping no one had noticed the sudden flush I could feel rising in my cheeks.

Fortunately, the guys were all too busy staring at Kingston in disbelief to catch the sudden change in me, giving me a chance to tame my emotions before they leaked into the guys through our shared bond.

“It was quite thrilling, actually,” Kingston said, his grin softening to a natural one. “It taught us negotiation and stuff, but it also gave us an imaginative outlet.”

“Riiight.” Xero drew out the word doubtfully.

“No, really. For example, sometimes we would be the Knights of the Round Table, and we would have to quash the Days of the Square tables.”

“You know that Knights of the Round Table is knights with a K, right?” Kai threw in, barely stifling a laugh.

“I do now, obviously. I didn’t when I was six though.”

“I bet your parents were so proud.”

There was just a hint of sarcasm in Xero’s voice, probably indiscernible to anyone who didn’t know him well. Which, of course, meant that Kingston picked up on it immediately. The dragon shifter narrowed his green eyes, then grinned.

“Tell us about your parents, Xero,” he said innocently.

The fire demon shrugged. “Dad was CFO for a construction company. Mom was an artist. My brother and sister and I did normal kid shit. Didn’t travel the world, didn’t play tycoon—you know, just Legos and dolls and shit.”