By Chance (Courtland Chronicles) (2 page)

Nick drew back, his jaw tightening as Eric pushed past him into the living room. “I’m not gay.”

“If you say so.” Damn. The quarterback was made of sterner stuff than Eric had given him credit for. Most jocks would’ve either run screaming or punched his lights out by now. “But for the record, I
am
gay. If you’ve got a problem with that, find another place to sleep.”

“I don’t, as long as you’re not hitting on me every five minutes.”

That stung, though Eric concealed it with a sardonic chortle. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need to force myself on anyone. But if you’re that worried, you’d better use the communal bathroom down the hall. Wouldn’t want me to get another eyeful of that tight virgin ass.”

Nick’s hands curled into fists. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work,” he snapped.
Oh, shit
. Eric started backing away. “I’ve got nowhere else to go, so it looks like we’re stuck with each other. Take my advice and knock it off.” He snatched a book from his duffel bag and flopped down on the couch.

Relief warring with a plummeting sense of failure, Eric chewed his lower lip, fighting off the urge to kick the nearest solid object. He’d taken what he thought was his one sure shot, never dreaming it’d fly so wide of the mark. He’d screwed up royally—and that wasn’t something he was used to.

Might as well drown his misery with a shower. He grabbed a clean pair of sweats from his bag, then remembered he needed to call home. The phone on his desk had an extra long extension cord
,
so he hauled it into the bathroom and shut the door. His gaze landed on the vanity, littered with Nick’s razor, shaving cream, comb and a bunch of other stuff spilling out of his shaving kit. Snorting with disgust, Eric scooped everything up and shoved it in the plain black leather case, then started the shower to make sure Nick couldn’t overhear him.

Then he dialed the extension in his mother’s bedroom, holding his breath for five rings until she picked up. “H’lo?”

She sounded awful, groggy and scratchy-voiced. But since she’d spent the past weekend recovering from a handful of sleeping pills washed down with vodka, he wasn’t terribly surprised. “It’s me,” he said. “Just checking to see how you’re feeling.”

“Much better, thank you, sweetheart.” She spoke more slowly now, making an obvious effort to enunciate her words. It hurt so much just listening to her, Eric had to squeeze his eyes shut. “But you didn’t need to call,” she added. “I know you must be busy settling back in.”

“It’s no problem, you know that.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. Your father’s being very sweet and attentive.”

Of
course
he was. Amazing what a little guilt could do. But it wouldn’t last. It never did
.
“Good,” Eric managed to croak. “Glad to hear it.”

“Have a good week at school. I’ll be thinking of you.”

A good week.
God, that was funny. He’d be lucky to get through it without chewing his nails off. “I’ll try to catch a train up to see you this weekend. We didn’t get to spend much time together over the holidays.”

“No need, but if you wanna come…” She was fading, slurring, already half out of it. What was it this time, pills or booze? And why didn’t his father take all that shit out of her room, like he’d promised?

“I gave you my pager number, didn’t I?” he said.

“S’right here on my nightstand. G’night, dear.”

“Call me if you need any—” The line clicked off.

He stared at the receiver, pondering whether to call back, if only to tell her a proper goodbye. No point. She was probably face-deep in the pillow by now
.

So he hung up, yanked off his clothes and climbed into the shower. He stood gratefully under the hot spray, bowing his head to let it pound his shoulders and the back of his neck. Usually a shower energized him, but tonight his whole body felt leaden, a slow throb swelling over his right eye. He toweled off quickly, then chased down three aspirin with water from the tap.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and sighed. From the hollows under his eyes, no one would ever guess he’d just come back from a month’s vacation. With another sigh, he started tugging on his sweats. If he couldn’t help being exhausted, at least he could be comfortable.

To his relief, he emerged from the bathroom to find himself alone. Nick must’ve gone down to the dining hall. As if on cue, Eric’s stomach grumbled again. He considered heading to the vending machine down the hall for a snack, but he was too damn tired. All he wanted was to roll into bed and let oblivion claim him.

Still, he dredged up enough strength to unpack his bag and hang everything up in the closet. His reflexes were so sluggish he banged his hand on the top shelf, and down came an extra pillow, hitting him smack in the face. He tossed it on the couch, then figured he might as well pull down another blanket while he was at it.

Afterward, he collapsed into the overstuffed armchair, letting his head fall back against the cushions. Now he could have kicked himself for playing the gay panic card. He’d never been ashamed of his own sexuality, but using it as a ploy to get his own way was just plain low. And yes, dealing with his family this past month had scraped his nerves raw, but that was no excuse for taking it out on Nick, who seemed like a decent guy, even if he obviously lacked the neatness gene. Hopefully he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge.

A key rattled in the lock and the door opened.

“Hey,” his roommate said in a tight, terse tone, eyes widening when he saw the pillow and blanket stacked neatly on the couch. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” Eric sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “Look, if I offended you earlier, I’m sorry. This hasn’t been one of my better days.”

“Mine either,” Nick replied with a tiny smile. “Last thing I wanted to do this morning was stand in line waiting for a new room assignment.”

“Point taken. However, I should warn you that getting along with people’s never been my strong suit.”

“Gee, I never would’ve guessed.”

Touché
. Eric chuckled. “Okay, I deserved that.”

Nick’s smile widened into that same toothy, dazzling grin he’d flashed earlier that afternoon. The momentary tightness in Eric’s groin made him profoundly grateful that he was sitting down. “Why don’t we make it a do-over?” Nick extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Nick Thompson. Pleased to meet you.”

The warmth of Nick’s fingers did nothing to alleviate Eric’s condition, even if it did feel amazing. With the exception of brief, faceless encounters in public toilets and darkened dorm rooms, Eric usually avoided touching other people. He couldn’t be sure of controlling his reactions, a point his body was now hammering home.

“Eric Courtland,” he replied. “Glad to have you aboard—er, so to speak.”

Nick’s eyebrow arched. “Any relation to Edward Courtland, the big-shot CEO?”

The mere mention of his father’s name made Eric recoil inside, but he prided himself on not letting it show. “I’m Big Shot CEO, Jr.”

“Wow. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. This school’s packed to the rafters with the super-rich.”

“Be glad you’re not one of them. I can sniff out the type blindfolded at a hundred paces.”

“Yeah? What do they smell like?”

“Snobby, uptight, insular, homophobic… Ring a bell?”

Nick’s cheerful expression evaporated. “I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier. Honest, I’m not a homophobe.”

“Don’t worry about it. We got a do-over, remember?” Eric forced a smile. “As long as you clean up after yourself and don’t blare your music at ninety decibels, we should get along fine.”

They turned out the lights a little while later. Despite Eric’s exhaustion, he didn’t drop off right away. Instead, he lay there listening to Nick’s soft snoring from the other side of the room, wondering how he was going to get through the next couple of weeks with a raging hard-on.

The dining hall roared with voices and the sharp clank of plates and silverware. Nick spied the top of Ally’s blonde head from across the room and waved her over to his table. As usual, she had her hands full, so he stood to help her with her backpack and lunch tray.

“These last few days have been insane!” Standing on her tiptoes, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then dropped gratefully into her seat. She looked a bit windblown, hair tousled, cheeks bright pink. She quickly shucked her wool gloves and scooped up her fork, attacking her salad with ravenous abandon. “Can’t believe this is the first time I’ve seen you. I got worried when we missed each other at check-in the other day.”

“Me too. So where’d they end up sticking you?”

“Nowhere, thank God. Holly’s sister’s firm’s sent her to London for the next six months, so Holly and I scored apartment-sitting duty.”

“Lucky you. I’m sacking out on a guy’s couch over in Watt.”

She took a long sip of her coffee. “That’s not too bad, is it? Don’t they have their own kitchens and bathrooms? The kind you don’t have to share with eight other people, I mean.”

“I’d rather have the eight other people. Eric’s not exactly Mr. Warmth.” Nick shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s only for a little while, right?”

“Um, well…” She glanced around nervously, then leaned in closer. “
The Spectator
’s holding the story till next week, but it doesn’t look good. I interviewed one of the top guys in building administration, and they’ve had contractors and insurance adjustors in the past few days assessing the damage. The hall needs a complete re-pipe job, plus replacing most of the flooring and drywall. They’re estimating repairs will take most of the semester.”

“Oh,
great
.” As if he didn’t already feel like bashing his head against the nearest wall. “Fuck! What am I supposed to do now?”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve got a place to crash?”

“Yeah, but Eric’s not happy about having me there. Guess I can’t blame him. If I came back from Christmas break to find a total stranger using my shower, I wouldn’t like it either.”

Ally’s coffee mug froze an inch away from her mouth. “That’s how the two of you met?”

“Would I make up something like that?” She burst out giggling, and while Nick tried to shame her with a glare, it was a losing battle. “Go ahead, laugh. You’re not the one who’ll be sleeping in a cardboard box on the street.”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t think this Eric guy’d kick you out? I mean, he can’t—not legally, anyway.”

“But he could make the next few months hell for me, if he really wanted to.”

“Well, I can ask Holly if it’s okay for you to stay with us, but you’ll have to sack out on the floor.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just have to get through it.” He shrugged. “Eric isn’t that awful. I mean, it got kind of weird there at the beginning, but we ironed things out. He’s just not very friendly. Plus, he’s a real neat freak.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lucky him, snagging the King of Slobs as a roomie.”

“He’s been pretty cool with it, as long as I keep the bathroom picked up and don’t let my mess migrate over to his side of the living room. Could be a lot worse.”

“Isn’t that what they said about the Black Plague, when it only killed
half
of Europe?”

They were both through with classes for the day, so Nick invited her over to take a look at his new digs. Her gaze ping-ponged between the couch, piled high with clothes, rumpled bedding and books, and the other side of the room, with its neatly made double bed and a sturdy oak desk so spotless it looked as if no one had ever used it.

“Oscar and Felix, together again,” she quipped with a grin.

As if on cue, the door opened. Eric shut it behind him, glancing pointedly from Nick to Ally, then back at Nick. “I wasn’t aware we were expecting guests.”

Nick’s stomach sank.
Shit!
Last thing he needed was to get Eric pissed at him again. “Eric, this is Ally Taylor,” he said, pasting on a smile. “We used to be suitemates over at Ruggles. Ally, meet Eric Courtland.”

“Wow.” Ally reached out to grasp Eric’s proffered hand. “I had no idea Nick was hanging out in such rarefied company.”

One corner of Eric’s mouth curved up in an ironic little half smile. Nick wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or nervous. “What exactly has he told you about me?”

“It’s more what he didn’t mention. Not all of us are lucky enough to land billionaires for roommates.”

Eric let out a snort. “My father’s the billionaire. I’m just a poor student.”

“Pretty nice room for a poor student.”

“A poor student on an allowance. Now if you’ll excuse me . . .” He slung his backpack off his shoulder and onto his desk, then peeled off his coat and wool cap, his short sandy-blond hair sticking up in spiky tufts. “I’m going to fix myself some lunch.” With that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Ally shot Nick a pointed glance, sidling up to him to mutter, “You weren’t kidding about the not-friendly part.”

Nick shrugged. What else could he say? Eric was just…well, being Eric.

“I’d better get going,” she added. “Oh, before I forget—you took Stevenson for early twentieth-century US history last semester, right? I was wondering if you still had your notes. He talks so fast I can’t keep up with him.”

That was especially ironic coming from Ally; Nick had to bit his lip to keep from laughing. He dug around in the closet until he found his old US history notebook. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her as he ushered her out the door. “Save me a seat in Mitchell’s class tomorrow, otherwise we’ll end up missing each other again.”

“Will do.” She grinned. “And good luck in there with Mr. Motormouth.”

“Shut up.” He closed the door, then headed into the kitchen for a soda. Eric was sitting at the table, eating another bowl of soup, a thick textbook spread out open-face on the table. He glanced up briefly when Nick came in, but didn’t say anything.

Nick sighed. As usual, it was up to him to break the stony silence. “Sorry about that. I should’ve asked if it was okay before I started inviting people over.”

“As long as you keep it to one person at a time, it’s fine by me.” Eric finished off his last spoonful of soup before pushing his bowl away, then leaned back in his chair. From this angle he looked pale and fragile, his cheeks and jawline jutting out like razor blades. Weirdly enough, it seemed to suit him. “I’ll probably be gone this weekend, so you and your girlfriend can have the run of the place.”