Level Hands: Bend or Break, Book 4 Read Free Page A

fingers against the side of the car door again until Cash turned and mock-glared at him.
    “Would you like me to drive to the parking lot, Rafael?” Cash asked him in a voice that tried to steamroll him flat with exaggerated patience.
    “Sure. Whatever.” He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but if he didn’t get out of this car soon, he might puke in it.
    He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had fallen together, ever since the slim letter announcing he’d been selected for this new “diversity in sport” scholarship had arrived. The entire process had been like a secret peek into the world of rich people. A phone call here, an email there, and all of a sudden he was looking at the real possibility of being able to attend this elite East Coast college.
    The first couple of months he’d been so excited he could hardly concentrate, but the closer he’d gotten to the day he actually had to pack up and leave home, the more his excitement had been stained by gray anxiety.
    When they finally pulled into a space in the back corner of the large lot, Rafi burst out of the car and strode onto the grass. The urge to keep walking, to set one foot in front of the other all the way back to Chicago, expanded inside him until his skin felt tight.
    “Holy shit, how good is it to get out of that fucking car, dude?” Cash hip-checked him on the fly as he bombed past Rafi and jogged around in circles on the grass until Rafi gave in and laughed at him. “I don’t know about you, but my ass done up and died during those last two hundred miles.”
    “Mine too,” Rafi admitted, then yelped as Cash jogged by and gave his butt a smack. “Dude!”
    Cash stuck his tongue down to his chin and crossed his eyes as he jogged backward away from Rafi, shooting finger guns at him. “Can’t touch this.”
    His mentor in a goofy mood was impossible to resist. Giving in, Rafi held himself to faking an eye roll and strolling casually toward the car, before juking at the last second and chasing after Cash. They sprinted in zigzags like kids playing tag on a playground until Rafi had slapped Cash’s hip, his back, damn near his junk once, without ever once managing to get in his payback ass slap.
    For a white boy, Cash was surprisingly agile with the hip thrust, twerking his ass out of the way at precisely the right moment.
    When they were both panting for breath and leaning against the Zipcar, Cash was crowing. “Damn, I still got it. You couldn’t lay a hand on me.”
    “I was taking it easy on you, old man.”
    “Okay, youngster. Just for that, you can carry all the heavy shit,” Cash said as he popped open the back door of the SUV. But he set aside what Rafi knew was some of the heaviest stuff at his own feet, before handing boxes and bags to Rafi until he was loaded down like a Sherpa.
    Halfway back to the dorm, Rafi’s back was aching so hard the decision not to wait in the traffic jam for a spot in front of the dorm looked damn stupid. But he nodded when Cash lifted a chin at the stairwell door after they spotted the crowd waiting for the elevators. If he stopped moving, he might not get going again. Besides, the pain took his attention off his mounting nerves.
    “Dig deep,” Rafi heard from behind him as they hit the stairs, and snorted.
    They’d stopped in a room off the lobby where the welcoming committee waited and had picked up his keys to the suite. On the third floor, they walked past plenty of open doors with music pouring out before finding Rafi’s suite door, which was closed.
    Nerves danced on his skin like ants doing the bachata. He’d gotten a couple of emails from one guy, Austin, who’d been chatty and easily distractible, if the way Rafi kept getting forwarded email chains was any indication. Sorry! Forgot to cc: you on this! Mostly his suitemates had focused on squaring up furniture arrangements for the common room. Suitemate number two, Vincent, was taking charge of that because “we are not