Broken Protocol Read online

  Nick finally found his ex in the cafeteria, eating shredded wheat with soy milk. Healthy fucker.

  He grabbed a cup of coffee and slid into the booth across from Kelly without bothering to ask permission. “Who’s the kid?”

  “Jesse.” Kelly’s brow furrowed slightly. “Jesse Cole. He didn’t introduce himself?”

  “He was still sleeping when I left.” Nick shrugged. “Didn’t want to bother him.”

  “Good,” Kelly said. “Don’t.”

  Like Nick was some kind of asshole who couldn’t be nice to a guy unless he was following orders. He frowned unhappily—was that really what Kelly thought about him? It didn’t matter. They weren’t dating. They weren’t even friends. Just ships in the night, and he wasn’t a very happy ship. “You going to tell me what he’s doing in my room?”

  “It’s university property.”

  “Yeah.” Nick took a long drag on his coffee, wishing he knew what to say, wishing they were outside and he still smoked so at least he’d have something to do with his mouth. “Why’s he in my room? And don’t give me some bullshit about university property. You know what I mean, why’d he need to be moved in the middle of the semester?”

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Okay, but why’d you have to stick him in with me?” Nick hadn’t gotten a great look at his new roommate, but he’d seen enough.

  The boy had floppy brown hair, flushed cheeks, and a slim body that probably looked better naked. He was too damn pretty and so damn young Nick would have checked his ID twice to make sure he was legal if he showed up at the gay bar where Nick picked up twice-weekly shifts.

  “There’s no way he’s a senior.”

  “Sophomore.” Kelly put down his spoon and finally gave Nick his undivided attention. “Jesse’s been through a lot.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “I want to keep an eye on him, and you’ve got the only free bed on the hall. Is that going to be a problem?”

  Hell, yeah.

  It was already a problem.

  Nick was busy. Midterms were coming up. He needed to finish an assignment for accounting. And—on the nights when he wasn’t bouncing at Ale Mary’s—he was cramming for his French class. He needed to be able to focus. He didn’t have time to watch out for some jumpy sophomore who’d landed on the hall because he couldn’t take care of himself.

  Kelly was still staring at him with those ice-chip eyes, so blue they could put the noonday sky to shame and so single-minded they’d made Nick fall in love without a second thought. It wasn’t until later he’d realized Kelly looked at everyone that way.

  The dude was intense.

  “Fine,” Nick said. “But I’m not doing this for you.”

  “I wouldn’t even suggest it.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.” Nick jabbed a finger at him for emphasis. “We are not friends. I’m just doing this so he has a place to stay.” Because Nick might be a lot of things—including a hustler, a fighter and a thief—but he’d never throw anybody out. Ever. “And he better not touch my stuff.”

  Kelly nodded and clearly that was the end of their conversation because a moment later he’d gone back to eating his cereal and pretending Nick didn’t exist.

  Bastard.

  Nick slammed back the rest of his coffee, then went to his morning class. Monday was his busy day, three classes in a row with only a twenty-minute break for lunch. Afterward he went to the library and the gym, anything to keep himself away from the dorm room until Jesse Cole was all settled in.

  When he finally got back to the hall, he just wanted to grab his laptop, order some pizza and get to work. He could put on headphones if he needed to, but he sure as hell hoped Jesse didn’t listen to pop music...or country... Nick hated country. Too many guitars. Too much twang. Too many memories of his mamma’s kitchen table.

  He popped open the door and—

  Was he in the wrong room?

  It wasn’t possible. His key had worked in the lock.

  Still, he took a step back so he could see the number on the door. Howard 146. Three doors down from the bathroom. Far enough away from the lounge that he didn’t have to worry about being bothered by his idiot dorm mates on movie night. It was definitely the right place.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t look anything like the room he’d left that morning.

  Every surface gleamed. The hardwood floors freaking sparkled. His bed had been made up with fresh sheets, and his books were all put away in a shelf under the window. Had those bookcases always been there? Even the stack of personal items at the foot of his bed had been tidied away—

  Nick surged forward, not caring when Jesse jerked to the side and retreated to his own bed in surprise.

  “What the fuck did you do?” He ripped open the wardrobe door. Every piece of clothing he owned had been laundered, folded and put away. The shirts had been sorted by color. He couldn’t see the box that had been there a few hours earlier. No such luck. He grabbed at the clean shirts, leaving them in an awkward heap, then lumbered over to the bookshelf.

  The books had been freaking alphabetized. He grabbed at the nearest one and tossed it to the ground.

  “Where’s my stuff?” He turned and—

  The edge of a wooden box was poking out from underneath the bed.

  Thank God.

  He dropped to his knees, grabbing for the only thing he had left from his childhood. He slid the box out and popped open the lid. The pictures were right where he’d left them. The rosary from his confirmation was tucked in beside the swimming trophy he’d gotten in sixth grade. The sum total of his life before he’d left home, and it all fit into an old cigar box. At least the kid hadn’t tried organizing in here.

  When he was sure everything was present and accounted for—safe—he turned to glare at the fucking invader who’d dared to clean his room.

  Jesse was sitting awkwardly on his bed, shaking like a leaf, in the same clothes he’d slept in—too-tight jeans and an oversized sweatshirt that looked suspiciously like the one Kelly had stolen from Nick when they broke up. The room might be spic and span, but Jesse was anything but clean. There was a bruise on his cheek, a cut under his right eye, and blood staining his floppy hair.

  Fuck, he was a mess.

  Nick sighed. “This isn’t going to work.”

  Don’t miss OUT OF BOUNDS by A.R. Barley.

  Available now wherever Carina Press ebooks are sold.

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  Copyright © 2016 by Aleah Barley

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to thank my editor, Deborah Nemeth, and the amazing team over at Carina. They always do a wonderful job with my books, and they make the editing process a delight. I’d also like to thank Jodi Linton and Annabeth Albert for encouraging me every time I get stuck. Last but not least, special thanks go out to my husband, who supports me in everything I do.

  Also available from A.R. Barley and Carina Press

  The Boundaries series

  Out of Bounds

  Against the Rules

  Outside the Lines

  Smoke & Bullets

  On Duty

  Coming soon from A.R. Barley and Carina Press

  Smoke & Bullets

  Shift’s End

  About the Author

  A.R. Barley has been a book lover since day one. She has a to-be-read list a mile long and an e-book addiction she’s failing to hide from her loved ones. She wrote her first book—a drama about a family of balloons—in kindergarten and hasn’t stopped writing since. She also writes under the name Aleah Barley.

  A.R. Barley writes funny, heartfelt romance for everyone while living in Detroit, Michigan, and exploring everything it has to offer. She has a husband who supports her in everything she does, a Labrador who sleeps at her feet, and a cat who is p
lotting to take over the world.

  She loves to hear from fans on Facebook at Facebook.com/aleahrbarley or on Twitter at @aleahbarley.

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  ISBN-13: 9781488080654

  Broken Protocol

  Copyright © 2018 by Aleah Barley

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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