Chapter 3

Aiden’s POV

Dr. Patel kept clicking through screens like my entire future wasn’t hanging by a thread, muttering about “system flags” and “additional documentation” while I sat there nodding like a broken toy, hoodie still knotted around my waist, ass stinging every time I shifted. She finally printed a form of three pages of bullshit and shoved it across the desk.

“Get these signed by tomorrow morning. Enrollment verification from the registrar, proof of address from housing, and a personal statement explaining the delay in your initial submission. Bring them back here before noon or the hold stays.”

I snatched the papers. “Noon tomorrow. Got it.”

She looked at me over her glasses. “You look terrible, Aiden. Everything okay?”

I forced a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “Just personal stuff. Thanks for the concern.”

I was out the door before she could ask again, papers crumpled in my fist, heart slamming so hard I could taste it in my throat. Scholarship on hold. Rent due in ten days. No backup plan. No rich parents. No nothing. Just me, torn jeans, and a body that still felt dirty from the subway. I needed this fixed yesterday.

The registrar’s office was closed, figures so I headed straight back to the admin building, third floor, Dr. Harlan’s office. He was the one who handled the emergency overrides for scholarship kids. I’d seen him do it before for other people. One quick meeting, some groveling, paperwork pushed through. Easy. Had to be easy.

His door was cracked. Light on. I knocked twice, hard.

“Come in.”

I pushed it open. Dr. Harlan mid-forties, tall, broad, always in those crisp button-downs that screamed “I peaked in college and never left” was leaning back in his chair, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He looked up, smiled slow.

“Aiden. Right on time. Close the door.”

I did. loud.

“Sit.”

I stayed standing. “I just got the email about the disbursement hold. Dr. Patel said you can override it if.. ”

“Slow down.” He stood up. Walked around the desk. Closer. “Let’s talk.”

My stomach dropped. “Talk?”

He stopped maybe two feet away. Eyes flicked down over my hoodie knot, my hips, back up to my face. Smile didn’t drop. “You come in here looking like that. Hoodie tied around your waist like some desperate little tease. Pants underneath probably barely hanging on. And you expect me to just… sign off?”

I blinked. Brain stalled. “What?”

He stepped closer. One step. “Don’t play dumb, Aiden. You’re smarter than that. Coming to see me dressed like this aren’t you just looking to get fucked?”

The words hit like a slap. My hand twitched, fingers curling, palm itching to crack across his face. I could feel it, the swing, the impact, the satisfaction. But then reality crashed in: scholarship. Rent. Food. No degree, no future, back to whatever shithole I crawled out of. Pride versus survival. Survival won.

I swallowed. Hard. Throat clicked. “I just need the hold lifted. Please.”

He chuckled low, amused. Reached out. Fingers brushed my arm. “Relax. I can make it happen. Just… be nice.”

My skin crawled. I took a step back. Bumped the door. “I’m not.. ”

“Not what?” He closed the gap again. Hand on my waist now right over the hoodie knot. Tugged once. “Not interested? Then why dress like you’re begging for it?”

“I’m not begging for anything.” Voice shook. “I just want my money. That’s it.”

His grip tightened. Pulled me forward an inch. Breath hot on my face. “You think it’s that simple? You walk in here half-undressed, looking like you’ve already been used once today, and I’m supposed to believe you don’t want more?”

My free hand balled into a fist behind my back. Nails dug into palm. I could smell his cologne, same expensive shit from the subway guy. Made me want to throw up. “Let go.”

He didn’t. Leaned in instead. Lips brushed my ear. “One blowjob. Quick. Door’s locked. Nobody has to know. Scholarship clears by morning.”

I jerked back hard head cracking against the door. Pain flared white-hot. “No.”

His smile faded. Eyes narrowed. “Think carefully, kid. You need this. I can make your life very difficult.”

“I said no.” Louder this time. Shaking harder.

He stared. Long seconds. Then stepped back. Shrugged like it was nothing. “Your loss. Hold stays until the paperwork’s perfect. Good luck.”

I fumbled for the handle. Yanked it open. Bolted.

The Hallway blurred. I kept walking fast, blind until campus blurred into streets, until my lungs burned and my legs gave out on some random bench half a mile away. Sat there gasping, papers still crushed in my fist, hoodie soaked with sweat.

I almost slapped him. Almost. The urge still buzzed under my skin. But I didn’t. I swallowed it. Swallowed everything. And now the hold was still there. And I was still fucked.

By the time I dragged myself back to the dorm the sun was almost gone. Legs heavy. Head pounding. I pushed the door open without knocking didn’t care who was home.

And froze.

Jovian was stepping out of the bathroom. Naked completely. Water still dripping down his chest, freckles dark against wet skin, red hair plastered to his forehead. He didn’t see me at first, just reached for the towel on the hook.

Then he did.

Eyes went wide. “Shit… Aiden!”

He grabbed the towel fast, wrapped it around his waist, but not before I got a full view, I couldn't believe what I'd just seen. Come to think of it, we may have been roommates but I'd never really had a view. His dick was way more than what I expected, thick, long and had a pink tip. Why do I even remember the details…. I'm such a pervert omg.

“Sorry,” he blurted, cheeks going pink under the freckles. “Didn’t hear you come in. The door was unlocked, Ethan must've… ”

I couldn’t speak. Just stood there staring like an idiot. Not because…. well, okay, partly because he was naked and cute in that awkward way only Jovian could pull off but mostly because my brain short-circuited. After everything today, seeing someone I actually liked, someone who was kind, someone who didn’t leer or threaten or grab, just… standing there embarrassed and human.

“You okay?” he asked, voice dropping softer. Towel clutched tight. “You look like you’ve been through it .”

I laughed . “Understatement.”

He stepped closer careful, towel secure. “What happened?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Shook my head. “Nothing. Just… scholarship bullshit. And subway bullshit. And… everything bullshit.”

His eyes flicked to the hoodie around my waist. To my face. Back. “Your jeans are torn.”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t push. Just sighed. “Sit. I’ll put pants on. Then you’re telling me. All of it.”

I didn’t move. Couldn’t. Legs locked.

Jovian hesitated. Then reached out slowly touched my elbow. Gently. No grab. No threat. “Hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

My throat closed up. Eyes burned again. I blinked hard. “I’m not safe. Not today.”

He didn’t argue. Just tugged me toward the couch soft and careful. Sat me down. Grabbed sweatpants from his room, pulled them on quick, then came back. Dropped beside me. Close but not touching.

“Start wherever,” he said. “Or don’t. But I’m here.”

I stared at my hands. Shaking. Papers still crushed. Hoodie knot coming loose.

And for the first time all day I let the tears fall. Jovian didn’t say anything stupid like “it’s okay.” Just sat there. Let me cry.

After a minute, maybe two he reached over. Slowly. Put his hand on my back. Rubbed once. Twice. Warm. Steady.

I leaned into it. Just a little.