Better Have Heart (Harrison Campus 2)

From nerves.

Seth noticed the move and frowned.

Darren hurriedly said, “I really need a shower.”

“Why?” Seth asked.

“I just got in from soccer practice.”

“No . . . why are you offering to help us?”

Thank you, Harper, for turning me into a big dickhead. He met their skeptical gazes. “Because we’re brothers and you need help.”

They cocked their heads simultaneously, and Darren busied himself making sure his bank card was in his wallet. “I mean, if you don’t want me along, we can stop by the ATM, I’ll get the money, and you bring me back before you go to the tow lot.”

“No, we’re cool with you coming,” Seth said. “I’ll pay you back as soon as my loan check clears.”

Darren stuffed his wallet in his waistband. His soccer shorts didn’t have pockets. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t take your money.” The protest came with another hint of hesitation.

How to reply without sounding like a privileged asshole? “It’s not a problem, I don’t need it.”

He hid a wince. Not exactly the definition of nailing it.

“On one condition,” Seth said after a long moment. “Stop by our room later. My mom sent me back with a whole box of food. Her triple-chocolate caramel cookies are awesome.”

He paused at the unexpected offer of friendship.

Thank fuck his phone ringing stopped him from blurting something awkwardly sentimental. He plucked his phone from the bed. He expected Mom to flash on screen, rearing to pimp him out to Max, but the number on the display was a university extension.

He held his finger up at Seth and Billy—just a minute.

“Hello?”

“Darren? This is President Jenkins.”

The university president was calling him? Directly? “President Jenkins. Hello, sir.”

“I need you to come to my office as soon as you can. We need to discuss the Gage Scholar Program.”

Why would the president call him about that? “I’m taking a . . . friend to get his car. Can I come by after that?”

Silence met his question. Clearly, that had been the wrong answer.

“As I said, this is important.”

He hadn’t said that, but it couldn’t be so important he had to drop everything. After all, this was Darren’s family’s endowment to the school. “I understand, but my friend has no other way to get to the tow lot besides me. Can I come around five?”

More silence followed. “Six. I have another meeting at four that will take me past five.”

They ended the call as abruptly as it began. What the hell was that all about?

He twisted to find Seth staring at him, wide-eyed. “Was that the university president?”

“What’d he want?” Billy asked.

“Not sure,” Darren said. “Something about the family endowment.” Something felt off about the call. His father ran the trust, and Darren knew nothing about it other than he was supposed to be the Gage Scholar this year. “C’mon.”

“Seriously. Thank you,” Seth said. “You’re awesome.”

If only he could make his dad see that.

Darren was supposed to drop Seth off with the money and leave, but . . . he lingered in his car at the curb. He’d drive off when he saw Seth exiting the lot in his wheels.

Jesus, what was taking them so long? It was five minutes to three thirty.

He stared out the windshield at the three short rows of towed vehicles to the left of the gas station. Something wasn’t right. Seth and Billy had gone in twenty minutes ago.

Darren slipped out of his car and entered the air-conditioned office. He choked on a cold breath tasting of oil, rust, and frustration.

Billy stood scowling at a guy in overalls, who watched him and Seth with a bored expression. Seth was pacing in front of the desk, voice barely suppressing his panic. “It’s a blue Toyota Corolla with a small dent in the bumper,” he said. “If you just let me show you—”

“I told ye, ’lright. We’re searching. You shoulda come with enough time for finding your baby.”

“But I only have two fifty. I can’t pay double.”

“Shoulda thought ’bout that when you double-parked, aye?” Overalls Guy glanced at the clock on the wall that ticked closer to three thirty. “My man will find it in a few minutes, I’m sure.”

The smug quirk of his lips told Darren everything. Stupid fuckwit at the impound lot seemed to think torturing Seth was good sport.

Darren cursed himself for waiting so long outside. He should have known the crew would play games so close to the deadline.

He strode up to the desk. He’d have this situation handled within half a minute. Reaching out a hand, he caught the guy’s eye. “Darren Gage V. My great-great-grandfather started MAS Oil.”

The guy straightened in his swivel chair and shook his hand, glancing out the window at the MAS Oil sign in front of the gas station.

He recognized the name, then. “Thank you for helping my man out with his car, here,” Darren said, withdrawing his hand and clamping it on Seth’s shoulder.