Better Have Heart

by Andy Gallo

  Isaiah laughed and flung an arm around his brother, hugging him close. “I’ve missed you, Ian.”

  “Did mom tell you I got a full scholarship to study environmental science here at Harrison?”

  Isaiah froze. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Mr. Gage wrote Mom and said if I wanted to come to Harrison, he’d take care of it.”

  “Darren’s dad wrote to Mom?”

  “No, the other Mr. Gage. Darren’s grandfather. He told her it was the least the university could do after how they treated you.”

  “Still think filing that complaint was the biggest mistake you ever made?” Darren asked from behind.

  Isaiah playfully shoved Ian toward his mom with a hurried “later” and whisked around to his boyfriend.

  His beautiful, generous, kind boyfriend.

  His beautiful, generous, kind boyfriend who loved Isaiah back.

  Isaiah’s face split with a smile.

  Darren took his hand and loosely linked their fingers. “My grandparents are here. Can I introduce you?”

  If this night got any better, Isaiah might burst apart.

  Darren steered him toward a genteelly smiling elderly couple. Their smiles doubled at Darren’s approach.

  His grandmother held her arms out, and Darren leaned in to give her a hug. “If you get any more handsome,” she said, “I’m going to faint.”

  Isaiah agreed.

  “If you get any prettier,” Darren murmured back, “I’m going to have to hire guards to keep the men away.”

  She giggled. “You and this silly old coot”—she nodded toward her husband—“need your eyes examined.”

  Grandfather Gage grabbed his wife’s hand and kissed it gently. “My eyes are perfectly fine, Dorie. You’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

  She didn’t protest. “Are you going to introduce me to your handsome beau?”

  “I know better than to interrupt when someone is complimenting you.” He kissed her cheek and introduced Isaiah. “Isaiah, this is my grandmother, Dorothy Gage.”

  Isaiah nodded, dizzy with good feelings. “I’m afraid I have to agree with them, Mrs. Gage. You are quite beautiful—and I’ve twenty-twenty vision.”

  “I always knew my grandson would have good taste.” She offered Isaiah a hug, and he accepted. She kissed his cheek and whispered, “Thank you for making Darren so happy.”

  “Isaiah, this is my grandfather, Darren Gage.”

  “So many Darrens! I mean, uh, good evening, sir.”

  Darren’s grandfather laughed. “Not the most creative in the naming department, the Gages. Nice to meet you, Mr. Nettles.” He held out his hand with a mischievous look in his eye that reminded Isaiah so much of Darren. “I understand Darren tried to introduce us a few months ago, but the call never went through. I’m glad we finally get to meet.”

  Isaiah blanched and glanced at Darren. “You told him that story.”

  “He tells his grandfather everything,” Dorothy said. “They’re like two ten-year-olds when they get together.”

  “What can I say? My grandson keeps me young.”

  Isaiah laughed, and nervously blurted, “I want to thank you for giving my brother a scholarship to Harrison. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  The playful lilt disappeared. “As I told your mother, you handled yourself with a great deal more grace and dignity than the university did. Since I expect your brother will be working for Darren one day in MAS Oil’s new renewable energy division, I need to make sure his education is up to standard.”

  Darren stiffened at Isaiah’s side. “Doesn’t that assume I’ll head the division?”

  “One assumption I am confident in.” He looked between Isaiah and Darren and focused on Isaiah. “I know you each wrote to the Gage Scholar Committee asking that we give the award to the other person.”

  Isaiah whipped his head around to Darren. “You did what?”

  Darren looked just as startled. “That’s my line!”

  Grandfather Gage chuckled. “One letter would have been amazingly selfless, but for you both to do it. Astounding.”

  Isaiah clasped Darren’s hand and throttled it. “Darren deserves the honor. He took on the school to fight for me. I don’t mean to presume too much, but I think your grandfather would have been very proud of his great-great-grandson.”

  “Here, here,” Grandfather Gage agreed. “He would also be proud of you, for standing up for what was right despite the risk. Needless to say, this is a most unusual year for the program. One that requires an equally unusual result.”

  What was going on? Isaiah side-eyed Darren, and Darren shrugged, equally perplexed.

  Grandfather Gage continued, “Josh and I made a recommendation to the committee, which they unanimously accepted. Because you embody the attributes your great-great-grandfather wanted in his heirs, Darren will be the Gage Scholar next year—”

  “But—” Darren tried to interrupt, but his grandmother swatted his arm.

  “Hush, Darren. Don’t interrupt your grandfather.” She almost sounded too amused to be mad.

  “As I was saying, Darren will be the Gage Scholar next year. But since he doesn’t need the stipend or the job after school, the committee agreed to award those to you, Isaiah. In recognition of your tenacity and willingness to fight for what you believed right.”

  Isaiah blinked.

  Then he huddled close to Darren, murmuring under his tongue, “Pinch me.”

  “What?” his boyfriend asked, amused.

  “Pinch me. This day is too perfect. Must be a dream.”

  Darren squeezed his hand. “No dream, love. This is happening. I got what I wanted from the program. And you’ll get what you really need.”

  “Exactly,” Dorothy said. “Now, enough talking business. We have a table to find. Make sure to see us when the show is over. Your mothers are hosting a small party for you at the hotel.”

  “They’re what?” Isaiah asked.

  “Planning a party in your honor,” Grandfather Gage said. “Be gracious, both of you. They worked hard on this.”

  “Yes, sir,” Darren said.

  “Good.” He clapped Darren on the shoulder and held out his arm for his wife. “Shall we, Dorie?”

  “Of course.”

  Isaiah watched the happy couple cross the foyer to the theater. He wondered if in fifty years, he and Darren would still look at each other that way.

  “This day is the fourth best day of my life,” Darren said.

  “Fourth best? Are you kidding me? This is hands down in the top three.”

  “Fourth. After the day you beat up my great-great-grandfather Darren Gage outside Jenkins’s office.”

  “I’m not sure you’re romantic enough to be in control of this list. I love yous totally trump the tingles of instant attraction—wait, what’s the best day?”

  “The day you kissed me.”

  Fizziness spiraled through him. “A great day, but first?”

  Darren folded his arms. “Absolutely.”

  “Better than today?”

  “Well, they’re all neck and neck, but the first kiss still wins.”

  “Convince me.”

  Darren leaned in and dropped his voice to a silky whisper. “That conversation could go on all night.”

  Isaiah’s breath hitched. I kinda hope it does. “In that case, convince me tonight, after the party.”

  “Gladly,” Darren said. “But here’s the CliffsNotes for you: You played music and you kissed me, and I knew my life would never be the same again.”

  Isaiah cupped Darren’s jaw and bumped his nose. “Yeah, that’s definitely a special day.”

  “Your eyes are twinkling like you know something I don’t.”

  Isaiah shrugged, drew back, and fiddled with a little package in his coat pocket. “Maybe that day will stay number one, but Darren?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Today’s not finished yet.” Isaiah pulled the box out. �
��This is for you. A good-luck token before we play tonight.”

  Darren looked surprised and delighted to be gifted something. “You don’t need to get me things.”

  Isaiah handed him the box. “This reminded me of one of my top three days.”

  Darren opened the box, and his smile could light the entire Harrison Hall. He took out the small banjo key fob and held it up to get a better look. “The day I played the banjo for you?”

  “The day you took off your mask and let me see the real you.”

  Darren looked at the small fob and finally wrapped his hand around it. “I love it. I love you, Isaiah. Thank you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Darren moved in for a kiss, and Isaiah kissed him back. Fifty years weren’t going to be enough.

  “Let’s get the show started.”

  ~ The End ~

  Next in the Harrison Campus series

  Better Be True

  Two friends. One bed. A big Italian Wedding.

  Nico Amato is in trouble.

  He’s in love with his roommate. Who’s hung up on his ex.

  This so isn’t part of his summer plans. Luke’s an all-American jock, a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy. The kind of guy who thinks Nico is too much.

  That doesn’t stop Nico from pretending to be Luke’s boyfriend, once, twice, thrice . . .

  A friend does what a friend does to make an ex jealous.

  Just . . . How many favors before Luke gives up on his ex?

  Lucas DeRosa has a problem.

  His roommate pushes every one of his buttons. Every. Damn. One.

  This so isn’t part of the script. Nico is flamboyant, a tight jeans/purple blazer kind of guy. The kind of guy who thinks Lucas is boring.

  That doesn’t stop Luke from pretending to be Nico’s boyfriend again, and again, and again . . .

  A friend does what a friend does to repay a favor.

  Just . . . How many favors before he wins Nico’s heart?

  "Better Be True" is a roommates to lovers, fake-boyfriend, slow burn M/M romance with a HEA. This New Adult, college, opposite attract novel can be read as a standalone. The Harrison Campus series can be read in any order.

  Better Be True

  Harrison Campus #3

  Nico

  Elisa: Need to speak to you ASAP. Emergency!!!!

  Nico: Way too many exclamations. Give me a few I’m about to meet Tomas.

  Elisa: Serious! Call Me! Huge Prob!!

  Nico Amato shook his head. What was it about getting married that turned his normally rock-solid sister into a bundle of jittery nerves?

  Would he be like that when he got married? One day. Maybe.

  Hopefully?

  He palmed his phone into his pocket and thanked the guy who let him into the Pi Zeta Eta house.

  A string of hollers met Nico’s ears when he rounded into the lounge. He was immediately hit with the scent of Doritos, sweaty feet, and toxic masculinity. On the TV, some uniformed Hercules chased a ball.

  Nico didn’t recognize the team; didn’t much care, either. He wasn’t here for sport. He was here for Tomas.

  His boyfriend.

  His boyfriend of three months.

  A record for Nico.

  His lips curved at the sight of him, sprawled like a hot Italian god over an armchair. Nico had lucked out. Not only was Tomas hot, he was Italian-American and from New York. His nonna had approved when he’d told her he’d met someone.

  She’d tried so hard to get a name out of him, but they were still so fresh, and he couldn’t have Nonna noseying her way into Tomas’s family when Nico hadn’t even met them yet.

  Maybe that was what Tomas wanted to chat about?

  Summer break was practically upon them; maybe he wanted to know if Nico was up for meeting the ’rents.

  His stomach hopped with nerves and hope.

  Before Nico could speak up, Tomas’s buddy nudged him and pointed toward Nico.

  Tomas sprang to his feet so fast, Nico hid a grin.

  “My God, Tomasso Merighi, you make my heart flutter just walking.” He put his right hand on his chest.

  When their eyes met, Tomas’s body sagged.

  So did Nico’s good mood.

  Tomas cuffed his elbow and curtly steered him out of the lounge. “I thought I said to text when you got here?”

  “Your brother recognized me and let me in.” Nico frowned. What the actual fuck was this about? “What’s wrong?”

  Fresh air hit them, and Tomas started pacing the porch before him.

  Nico’s stomach ached as he waited. He knew this awkward silence. He’d experienced it, oh, a hundred times before.

  “We’re . . . this isn’t working.” Tomas rubbed his nape, never meeting Nico’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I think we should . . . you know. See other people.”

  “What happened?” Nico said, throat pinched. “I mean, we were good Thursday night.”

  “No, we weren’t.”

  “So that was someone else I fucked after your frat party?” Tomas had been a bit drunk and insisted they leave early. The sex had been totally hot.

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Nico’s hands flew to his hips, and he cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

  Tomas glanced up, brows furrowing. “That is what I mean.” He gestured toward Nico’s stance. “Everything is so dramatic with you.”

  “Dramatic?” Nico raised his hands and pointed toward his hips. “You think this is dramatic? You’re breaking up with me. What do you expect? Roses and a sonnet about how wonderful you are?”

  “No. It’s just . . . You wore a shiny purple coat, eyeliner, and tight leather pants to a fraternity party. It was a kegger.”

  The picture came into focus, and its reality stung. “I embarrassed you in front of your bigoted frat brothers.”

  “They’re not bigots, Nico.” Anger flashed in Tomas’s eyes. “They never cared when I told them I’m gay. This is about us. You like big!” Tomas thrust his arms out, wildly. “You like being the center of attention—everyone’s attention—really in their face. I’m not like that.”

  “In their face.” Nico blinked back the burn in his eyes.

  He should be used to this by now.

  It was always the same. Nico was too much. Too touchy-feely. Too colorful.

  Too fucking loud.

  He formed a plastic smile. Never mind that behind it he felt achingly empty and inadequate. He wouldn’t let Tomas know how shattering his words were. How much he’d hoped this time would be different.

  When would Nico learn it was pointless to hope?

  “I’m truly sorry you feel this way,” Nico said. “You don’t need to say anything else. I won’t make a scene. My big boy pants are on.”

  Nico turned his back on Tomas and Pi Zeta-fucking-Eta and stalked off.

  Harrison campus blurred as he cut through it. In the middle of the brightly lit corridor leading to the central library, Nico’s phone vibrated.

  Elisa: C’mon, Nico. Call me! This is a disaster.

  Not the best timing, but maybe her problems would help him forget his own. He hit dial and braced for it.

  “Nico! Thank God. I’m so screwed. The wedding planner quit today. Her mother is sick and she needs to go to Boston to take care of her. I can’t believe this. How can this be happening? The wedding’s in three months and—”

  “I’ll take over, Elisa.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll take over and make sure everything’s perfect.”

  “Oh my God, Nico, you’re the best.”

  Nico raised an eyebrow. Clearly this was what she’d wanted him to say. “It’s what little brothers do.”

  “Wait, you were supposed to be in New York. With your boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.”

  “But . . .”

  “Just happened.”

  “Oh, boo. I’m so sorry to be dumping on you now.”

  Great choice of words. “You’r
e not. This is perfect. I don’t want to go home, and you need someone in Philly to make sure your wedding is amazing.”

  “Are you sure? I could always look around for someone else . . .”

  He snorted softly. They both knew she’d never find anyone decent at this late date. All the best planners were booked.

  “I got this, E. Just pay for me to stay in Philly and give me some spending money, and I’ll make sure this is everything you dreamed of.” And that Nico wanted, but would never have.

  “Boo, you are the best. I’ll make sure Papà pays you what he was going to give the planner. You’ll be all set up.”

  Nico scoffed. “No way Papà will pay me the same as your planner.”

  “If he doesn’t want to hear me whine every day, he will.”

  A laugh barked from his throat. Their father hadn’t been able to refuse Elisa ever since she learned how to talk. “Whatever you say.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best brother ever! Sorry about that douche canoe.”

  “Let it go, E. He’s not worth it.” He really wasn’t, and Nico wanted to bury the hurt that came from his rejection. “I’ll find a place and send you the deets to pass on to Papà so he can cut the check.”

  “I love you to the moon and back.”

  “A hundred million googolplex times.” Nico smiled at their traditional signoff. Something they’d been doing since they were in kindergarten. “I’ll call you tomorrow. And E?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t tell anyone Tomas and I broke up. I’m not in the mood for the barrage of calls.”

  “You got it.”

  He hit end and stared at the phone. Philly was unexpected, but at least it would give him time to rethink his life.

  Luke

  Kent: I’m sorry, Luke, but I’ve met someone who lives closer to me and I want to be with them. It’s better for both of us. Long distance wasn’t working.