Chapter 1: Rumors and Bitten Lips

My roommate is such a hypocrite. Seriously, sometimes I can't believe him. The stuff he does just blows my mind.

Sometimes, when I’m just chilling on my own bed, I’ll glance over at his and think, It’s like he’s built a moat around his bed—no one else is allowed to even step near it. Like, what’s he guarding in there? But then there’s me. He’ll just pat the spot next to him and say, “Crash here if you want, Eli.” Like it’s no big deal. Sometimes I have to wonder—am I missing something? It’s weirdly comforting. Honestly? A little confusing, too.

He won’t take a sip from anyone else’s water, but he’ll grab bottles I’ve already drunk from, without batting an eye.

Same deal with other drinks. I’ve seen him wrinkle his nose when someone else tries to hand him a bottle, but if it’s mine? He’ll just snatch it right out of my hand, take a long pull, and hand it back like it’s nothing. Every time, I feel like I’m in some weird VIP club I never even signed up for.

I always thought this was just how good friends acted in the city. Guess I was wrong.

I figured, hey, maybe this is just how people do things in Chicago. I mean, maybe friends here are just closer, you know? I mean, back home, people kept a little more distance, but here everything feels more intense, more immediate. It’s like everyone’s in a rush to get close.

Until the rumors started. People saying we were dating.

And just like that, people started whispering. I’d walk into the dining hall, catch a couple glances, and hear my name paired with Colton’s in the same sentence. “Are they together?” The question hung in the air. Heavier than the smell of burnt coffee in the common room.

I started avoiding him, but he caught up with me. Backed me into a corner.

I tried to give him space, hoping the rumors would die down. But Colton isn’t the type to let things slide. One evening, as I was heading back from the showers, he caught me in the hallway, his eyes locked on mine—stormy, dangerous.

He bit my lip—hard, until it bled. Then he growled, “Eli, try hiding from me again.”

His teeth stung. His words stung worse. His voice was low, dangerous, but there was something desperate behind it, too—like he was terrified I might slip away. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could barely breathe. I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there, stunned.

Colton Price, heir to the Price family. Just shy of 6’3”. Drop-dead handsome. A total neat freak with a temper to match. Yeah, that Colton.

Everyone on campus knows Colton. He’s the kind of guy who walks into a room and people notice. The Price family’s got money—old money, the kind that builds libraries and puts their name on half the buildings in the city. Colton’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass—seriously, it’s unfair. He’s got this way of carrying himself, too—like he’s always two steps ahead of everyone else. But God help you if you mess with his stuff. I once saw him flip out because someone left crumbs on his desk.

That’s what everyone else says about Colton.

But he’s different with me. Way different.

He won’t let anyone else sit on his bed, but he lets me sleep there. Go figure.

He won’t take water from anyone else, but he grabs bottles I’ve already drunk from. Makes no sense, right?

And he’s always extra patient with me.

I always thought that’s just how friends in the city acted. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

But yesterday, Lucas asked, “Eli, you and Colton are so close. You two, like, together or something?”

Dating?

“Can two guys date? I wasn’t even sure.”

“Dude, of course! You didn’t know?” He just stared, like I’d grown a second head.

I shook my head. I’m from a tiny town in the Midwest. Small town kid, no clue.

Where I grew up, nobody talked about stuff like that. Not once.

Honestly? There’s a lot I don’t know about Chicago.

First time I got here, the buildings were huge. Everything felt bigger.

Back home, you had to borrow my uncle’s old pickup just to get to the nearest Walmart.

The city lights dazzled me, and I literally ran into Colton and his friends as they were heading out to a bar.

I stepped on his shoe.

His buddy shoved me. “Hey, what’s your deal? Watch it! Clean Colton’s shoe!”

I hurried over and squatted down, but Colton pulled me up right away. “It’s fine.”

He glanced at the duffel bag on my back. “Isn’t that heavy? Here, let me help. Where do you live?” I felt awkward, like, should I really let him help?

I wasn’t expecting that.

I’d stepped on his shoe, and not only did he not get mad, he even helped me with my bags.

“No, it’s okay, I got it,” I blurted.