Rumor Has It (Longwood U)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

RIVER “SPARROW” MADISON

I glance over my shoulder at the building I just walked out of with a smirk. Easiest $900 I’ve ever made, and I managed an orgasm. Not bad for a couple hours’ worth of, uh, work?

Snorting, I pocket the cash and head back toward campus with my hands in my pockets. I should really start depositing the cash in the bank. It’s silly to keep it stuffed in a safe under the bed in my apartment. I mean, at least it’s in a safe, right? With a biometric lock and everything.

But I don’t need the money in my account and there isn’t one of my bank’s branches close, so this is the route I’ve chosen to go. If I get robbed, I have no one to blame but myself.

Pulling my phone out, I find several texts from Xavi.

Xavi

I just got a call from the gallery!!

Where are you? Why aren’t you answering me?

FFS, you don’t need to make money by getting off!

Put your dick away and talk to me.

OMG are you getting off right now while I’m telling you to put your dick away? There are some lines that besties just shouldn’t cross!

I’m crossing. Hurry up, Sparrow! I’m in need here.

That last part wasn’t a line crossed. Don’t be so dirty.

I laugh as I hit the call button and bring it to my ear. He answers almost right away.

“That’s where you were, weren’t you?”

Still laughing, I nod though he can’t see it. My gaze scans faces as I go, smiling when they meet my eyes. A smile goes a long way.

“Yes. Don’t be jealous.”

“Jealous?!” he says incredulously. “Honestly. I can get off any time I want. I’m married!”

There’s a note of harmony in his tone, as if he wants to sing. Because he uses it every time, I know it’s coming so I match it, saying “I’m married” when he does, then laugh when he harrumphs.

“I hear the romance is lost after the first couple years,” I say. “Sex is the first thing to go.”

“Trust me, that’s not the case. Enfield is ravenous.” He pauses. “Not that I just told you that.”

Laughing again, I shake my head. “Nothing to be shy about. I’m glad you have a healthy sex life.”

“And you? Is getting off for money really a healthy sex life?”

“Isn’t there a saying along the lines of ‘an orgasm a day keeps a stroke away’ or something? Oh… I think there’s a pun in that.”

Xavi laughs. “That’s lame. You’re lame, Sparrow.”

“Don’t be upset, beautiful. I’ve offered to let you see my dick.”

I can practically see his eyes roll, which makes me grin. My smile makes others look at me. Several people even smile in return, almost absently. As if they can’t help themselves.

“That was years ago!” he retorts. “And you need to stop saying that. My husband doesn’t like how you keep bringing it up.”

“There are many things I don’t like about your husband, so I think that’s fair.” For good reason, I might add. This man was a piece of shit to Xavi in the beginning.

Not that I blame him entirely. They both come from wealthy, prominent families who have pre-arranged their children’s marriages for generations. Xavi didn’t care. He was fine with that information since he was a kid as long as his parents understood that he’s gay and therefore, his arranged marriage better have a dick.

Yes, he put it just like that, so there was zero question.

Enfield also knew about the arranged marriage, however, he was not accepting of the situation. For years he did everything to get out of it, including but not limited to, getting arrested, knocking up some chick, slept with every woman who was willing, and paid another girl to claim he was abusive.

Yes, he went that far, but the girl finally came clean about the whole thing.

Eventually, he gave in. My understanding was that he was tired of listening to his mother, so he agreed. Signed a contract and everything. However, this dipshit didn’t actually read the contract, and he showed up to find his bride was actually a groom.

This straight man whose parents tricked him into marrying a male. Not to get into details, but yes, he had to go through with it or lose everything. As a rich boy, the threat of being suddenly stripped of all the privilege and wealth you’re used to… Apparently marrying a man was worth the hassle.

But this man was an absolute dick to Xavi. Like complete and total asshole. I nearly lost my mind when Xavi called me crying not once, but three times within the first couple weeks of his new fiance being there. Needless to say, they had a housemate for a while until I could make sure this fucker could treat my bestie well.

Eventually, he did pull his head out of his ass. And yes, he fell madly in love with Xavi. As one would because Xavi is a fucking cherub. He’s sweet and kind and talented and so damn beautiful. Now Enfield treats Xavi like the divinity he is. He’s definitely smitten.

But I don’t forgive easily.

“He’s not like that anymore,” Xavi reminds me, his voice soft. “You know that. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Someone who is at fault but needs to take his anger out on others does not get a free pass. You can’t change my mind on this.”

He sighs. Instead of discussing this further, Xavi changes the subject. “They haven’t figured out you’re gay yet, huh?”

I glance over my shoulder again. Not that I can see the building anymore. Hell, I just realized I’m halfway through campus. Where was I even going?

But back to his question.

I haven’t exactly hidden that I’m gay. But I also make it a point not to get involved with anyone on campus. I’m anywhere between three and six years older than my peers. Not a huge age difference except when you’re in your twenties, three years can feel like a decade. We’re simply in different places.

Not that I think I’m ready to settle down. It’s not that. But there is definitely a gap in maturity and goals between me and them. It makes getting involved really awkward, so yeah, I don’t.

Therefore, the only time I ever interact with any of them is when I’m at Rumor. But that’s for a sole purpose and most of the time, they’re so damn nervous they barely pay attention to me. And if they see me outside of that setting? Let’s just say they pretend they don’t recognize me or acknowledge that I exist.

My favorites are the ones who get flustered, turn bright red, and practically run away. Especially when they’re with their friends and those friends are left standing there looking at me, completely and utterly confused.

I simply shrug and continue walking. I’m always curious to know how they’ll explain it away.

“Gay for pay,” I say, shrugging. “I think they think I just like to get off and I can look beyond the gender of the person I’m with. I haven’t given them a reason to question me, I suppose.”

“Yeah, but still. Oh! Do you still have a groupie?”

I laugh. There’s a man who is determined to beat me, but he backs away every single time it comes to penetration. I make some damn good money off him. Not that he pays. I’m not entirely sure how this whole operation is funded. I’m guessing through some kind of pay-per-view scheme.

“Just the one now,” I answer. There used to be three separate men, but two of them stopped showing up. This one, though. He’s determined to best me. The thing is, I’m not sure he’s actually enjoying it. It’s the fact that he’s failing that keeps bringing him back.

I’ve made it my mission to track him down on campus and, from what I can tell, he’s just an average Joe. Like, he’s not an athlete, so there isn’t that inherent competitor spirit in him. He’s not particularly loud, so I don’t think it’s even something as simple as needing to get the last word, so to speak.

I honestly can’t figure out why he’s so determined to see this through. But he shows up like once a week looking for me. Me, specifically.

Although I suppose it might have to do with the rumor that follows me in whispers—unbeaten.

“Hmm,” I hum as I consider this. “You know, I think they have to have some inkling. But it’s not like they’ve ever asked. I’m not even sure why they invited me to begin with.”

“How do they invite their guys?”

I shrug. “Dunno. I was watching the hockey game.” I’ve been going to Rumor for about a year now, and it never occurred to me to question why they chose me. But now that I think about it… “I was doing inherently straight things,” I muse into the phone. “The guy who gave me the card—I’d run into him half a dozen times the week prior. All at supposedly obvious straight activities. Hockey, gym, throwing a football on the field with some guys from my apartment building.”

Gay men don’t do those things. I guess they haven’t been online lately. Gay men do all those things and have thirst trap videos everywhere to prove it.

Xavi snorts. “That’s lame.”

I shrug. “Stereotypes are alive and well.”

“You were born gay. And you were raised around like a hundred gay people.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying,” I say, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. “I was predisposed to be gay because I was raised around gays?”

He’s not wrong; at least the being surrounded by gays part. My parents moved us into a neighborhood with their bestie, my Uncle Sage. Uncle Sage is in a relationship with five men. Then there’s Uncle Vulcan, who wasn’t my parents’ friend, but because we grew up in such close proximity and the Whitaker kids called him uncle, my siblings and I started to as well. And Uncle Vulcan is in a relationship with four men.

The cul-de-sac was packed full of the entire LGBTQIA+ spectrum and honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better, happier childhood.

Xavi laughed. “No! I guess maybe I’m saying that you grew up where you understood your sexuality from a very young age because you were surrounded by all kinds of love. So many kids are only exposed to hetero love and, well… that makes understanding who you are a little challenging when you realize you don’t fit in.”

Xavi didn’t live in our cul-de-sac, but because Uncle Quin bought the land that some rich schmo was annexing from his property, our neighborhood abutted the richy richiest of assholes in the northern California mountains.

One of those neighbors was the Adair family and Xavi, their only child. So he didn’t live on our street, but he was my neighbor behind a very tall, stone privacy wall behind our house. He could wave down to me from the porch of his eight-room, three-story tree house with a turret and battlements at the edge of the property that overlooked the ‘little people’ of the world.

Thus, we became best friends.

“You were too,” I counter. “I showed you all of that too.”

“You did. My teenage years were far less confusing because you were there.”

“I was hot even then,” I say, shrugging. “You’re welcome for your gay awakening.”

He snorts. “Arrogant asshole.”

I grin.

“Think they’re going to be mad when they figure it out?” Xavi asks.

It takes me a minute to realize he’s still talking about Rumor. I shrug. “Dunno. I’m constantly called a ‘fan favorite’ when they introduce me to my next challenge, so I’m going to guess no. But I think there will be some backlash from my competition that it was unfair.”

“It is!”

“Oh, I agree,” I say, laughing. “That’s not to say that some don’t make it through and walk away with a thousand dollars.” Which I’ve always found quite impressive. They get through all twenty activities—including an orgasm from both of us—and walk away a grand richer. Generally speaking, it doesn’t happen often. It does, however, result in some men realizing they’re not nearly as straight as they thought. One I’ve seen around campus regularly and he’s in a very gay relationship. He doesn’t get flustered and run the other way when he sees me. He actually says hi and we talk as if we’re old friends for a few minutes.

“And an orgasm,” he adds.

I laugh. “Yep. That’s the ultimate goal for a lot of college kids.”

“Hey, is there a girl version of this? Like do they run a girl gay chicken there too?”

“I think their sister sorority does, but I don’t know. I’ve never asked.”

He hums in response.

Then I remember I was going to head to the gym. It’s been a few days and while I don’t spend a lot of time sculpting my body, I like food and I don’t want to gain a lot of weight. So working out is about allowing me to eat what I want and still fit into my clothes more than it’s about health.

Dropping my hand to my jeans, I decide they don’t feel snug yet. I’m doing okay. And since I already passed the paths to the sports complex, I continue on toward my apartment on the other side of campus.

Something I love about Longwood University is that they have student housing all over the city. There’s an enormous, modern apartment complex that was erected three years ago that has studio, one-, two-, and three-bedroom apartments that are only leased to students at rent students can afford.

There’s comfort in knowing that all the people in the secure building you’re living in are students like you. Of course, there’s still stranger danger, but we run into very few people not associated with the college since we’re literally right off campus.

I live in a studio apartment. It’s large, but I kind of love that I have a single room and I can see every corner from practically my entire room. I love it even more that I’m on the top floor so the ceilings are fucking high, and it allowed me to make a loft bed above the bathroom so I have the rest of studio as living space.

Then again, I have nearly fallen to my death in the middle of the night a few times when I needed to piss. I’ve since installed glass panel half walls so I don’t take away from admiring my kingdom from on high, but I’ll also live to see the morning.

Once I’m inside, I set Xavi in the phone cradle to charge and let the Bluetooth connect him to the speakers throughout my space. Now I can move around while we talk.

I make dinner and then take a shower, all while talking to Xavi about the gallery that called him. We talk while I do my homework. We talk until his husband gets jealous and he says goodbye. Then I recline on my couch with an amused smile and watch television until I’m ready to pass out.