Getting Him Back

By K.A. Mitchell

An unexpected fresh start leads to an unlikely-but-absolutely-perfect pairing in this male/male new-adult novel from bestselling gay romance author K.A. MitchellEthan may have followed his high school sweetheart to college only to get dumped his first day there, but he's not going to let that stop him from exploring all his new life has to offer. Sex-only hookups, his photography, new friends and a campus-wide game of zombies vs humans all help keep his mind off his broken heart and move him toward building a new, better life without his ex.And then there's Wyatt. Mysterious, grouchy—hot. And possibly not gay. But Ethan's not going to let that stand in the way of figuring out what makes Wyatt tick. New college goal? Get Wyatt into bed and into Ethan's life.Step one: arrange a "tutoring" date. Step two: "accidentally" bump into Wyatt as often as possible. Step three: explore the sexy body under that ever-present hoodie. And when their friendship deepens into something neither of them expect, convince Wyatt he's not just a pity fling or a one-time hookup, but that Ethan is in it for the long haul.This book is approximately 43,000 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Feb 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781459294202

K.A. Mitchell

At a very early age, K.A. Mitchell decided that Ken and G.I. Joe made a much cuter couple than Ken and Barbie and was perplexed when invitations to play Barbie fell off sharply. Today she still loves hanging out with imaginary friends and making up stories. Even better, people pay her to read about them. Now the author of over twenty-five gay romances, she guarantees happy endings for even the surliest of heroes, despite all their baggage.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Write if you get work.

My dad laughed at his own joke, which was good, because I didn’t get it. He slapped my shoulder and finished the display of fatherly affection by tucking a couple of twenties into my palm. That I didn’t mind.

My mom gave me a hug. Well, you can try, but we plan to disappear into witness protection before the first bills arrive.

They thought they were laugh riots. My mom was always quick with a dig about how much Coborn College was costing over a state school. I was paying for most of it with student loans and I would be paying for it for the next twenty years. They were barely picking up a share of room and board. But it was cool. Blake and I had a plan.

After college here, he was going to coach soccer and teach high school science, while I taught elementary. We’d get jobs in one of the urban high-need areas to get some of our federal loans forgiven.

It all started now. As soon as I could get my parents out the door, I would finally be in my boyfriend’s arms. And pants.

I hadn’t seen him in three weeks, two days, five hours and twenty-nine minutes. That was fifty-two solo jerk-off sessions. We hadn’t even been able to do it on the phone or Skype because he was so exhausted from soccer practice. I couldn’t imagine being too tired to get it up for three weeks, but he’d said he had to concentrate on learning new set pieces too.

I started edging us all toward the door.

Here’s your hat, what’s your hurry? Dad asked.

He was my dad, but he was a guy too. How could he not get it? I felt like my eyeballs were flashing a countdown to when I could finally be with Blake. I mean, we were in love, but there was also the major fact that after spending June and July all over each other, my balls were fucking blue with how much I needed something besides my right hand.

My mom opened the dorm door. We get it. The sooner we’re gone the sooner you can see Blake.

The hint of a sigh in her voice wasn’t because of Blake. I mean, my parents had known I was gay for basically ever, and Blake St. Pierre was any parent’s ideal boyfriend—a polite, honor roll athlete, class treasurer. They—mostly Mom—just had thought it was a bad idea, me picking Coborn College because Blake was already at school here. Like it was going to make any difference what college my elementary ed degree was from.

Well, it was all out in the open now, so that only made it easier. Guilty as charged. Thanks for the ride. I love you guys. See you Thanksgiving.

Hey, I totally walked them out to the car. I’m not completely selfish. But as soon as the car was out of the lot, I took off toward Blake’s dorm, barely resisting my urge to pump my fist in the air.

College. Finally.

My life was going to be awesome.

I didn’t understand how I could possibly be so lost. I’d studied the online maps last year, knew all the names of the buildings, imagining Blake going around campus, sitting in class in Joppa Hall, going through a cafeteria line at Thorpe Dining Hall, hanging out in the Butler Student Center.

But that was from my aerial map view on the college’s website. In the real world, buildings didn’t have convenient mouse-over names. The paths were twistier and there were a lot more trees and bushes and hills. Even Google Earth hadn’t prepared me for this. I’d probably looped back around to my own dorm. That bush over there looked familiar.

I could have called Blake, but the whole point to being here a day earlier than he expected me was to surprise him.

The path I was on paralleled a deep gully with a stream at the bottom. I didn’t remember Blake saying he needed rappelling gear to get to class so I must have taken a seriously wrong turn.

A girl came toward me. She was the first person I’d seen who wasn’t hanging with friends or had her attention glued to the screen of her phone. A long flowery skirt fluttered around her ankles, and her wine-colored top matched the shiny twisty braids in her hair. Last year when I was shooting casual shots for the yearbook, I would have wanted to take her picture. She was the ideal of a happy, together college student. And she absolutely looked like she knew where she was going. I’m kind of tall—basketball tall but too uncoordinated for it—so I tower over most girls. I put on a nonthreatening smile and hunched. Hi. Can you help me? I think I’m lost.

She gave me a once-over, then nodded. Where are you trying to go?

Kilpatrick. Just saying the name of Blake’s dorm, knowing I was this close, made my heart rate kick up. I tried to keep the excitement from spreading to my dick.

Jock Itch Tower. She made a disgusted face. It’s on the West Campus. Take the El. She turned and pointed behind her. At the top of the slope, a glass-enclosed bridge stretched across the ravine. Then go left at Administration. It’s the tower before the field house.

Thank you. I started hustling that way.

Hey, she called.

I turned, but I couldn’t help my feet from walking backward. Toward Blake.

They aren’t all dicks over there but you might want to... She made some gesture with her hand, pointing it toward me sideways like for a handshake but we were too far away.

What?

She made another face, as if she was embarrassed by what she was going to say. Act straighter.

I almost tripped and not because I was walking backward. I didn’t...swish or anything. I had on cargo shorts, loose. My T-shirt was advertising Oakley sunglasses, not I Heart Dick. I’d been told I had the grace of a giraffe trying to limbo. There wasn’t anything wrong with guys who were obviously gay, I just wasn’t. Maybe she was a lesbian and had gaydar?

Besides, Blake had been here all of last year and hadn’t said anything about problems with bigots on campus. Coborn College had a diversity policy. And he’d said all the guys on his team knew he was gay.

I saw it coming too late to do anything about it. She was facing me, and some guy was zipping along on his skateboard. I swear for once this disaster wasn’t my fault, though maybe yelling a warning made them swerve into each other.

He barely clipped her, but when she tried to regain her balance she got tangled in her long skirt and ended up trying to slide into second on the unyielding asphalt.

I ran back toward her. The skateboarder kept right on rolling.

Asshole, I yelled at him.

He grabbed his dick at me and disappeared over a small hill.

Oh, shit, are you okay? I crouched down next to her.

She didn’t answer and I felt all my first aid training from my senior community project kick in. Survey the scene. The scene is safe. Help. Call 911. Unconscious person. It was one breath every five seconds, right?

She still didn’t move, but she spat out, I’m. Fine.

In my experience, people who were fine didn’t stay face-planted on asphalt.

Let me help you up. It was sort of my fault.

I can’t.

I hit mental playback. It still didn’t make sense.

Did you hit your head? I scanned the buildings and the path. Just my luck all the people who I’d seen around had suddenly vanished. Let me call for help.

Noooo.

Okay. I sat on the grass next to her and eased my phone out of my pocket.

I see that. Don’t call anyone. Really. I’m okay. I just poured a flirt, she mumbled the last part, so it’s possible she didn’t actually say that.

What? I leaned down so my face was close to hers.

I. Tore. My. Shirt. She turned her face toward me.

Oh. And then I really got it. Oh. And you don’t want to uh...flash people?

And I was starting to worry about the admissions policy. Yes, genius. I don’t want to show my tits around campus, thanks.

But girls wore bras, right? And they were kind of like bikini tops.

Uh, what about your...I mean, don’t you have something under your top?

You mean my bra? God, you really are gay, aren’t you?

Yes. So I swear I don’t want to look. But I’m guessing we’re going to draw a crowd sooner or later. Maybe it’s not too bad.

She exposed her upper half to me and the ravine. There was a definitely a lot of girlness on display. What had her top been made of? Wet tissues?

I’ve got it. You can wear my shirt and I’ll come with you to your room.

Okay.

I shielded her as much as possible while she dragged on my T-shirt. I had to fight the urge to cross my arms over my naked chest. Like I said, I’m more super lean—skinny—rather than muscled, pale and freckled.

Where are we headed?

Fisher. She pointed. My pale yellow T-shirt covered her to her thighs.

That’s my dorm too. Shit, I had made a big wandering circle. Wait. I thought that was for freshman.

Yeah, so what?

How come you know your way around?

She put a hand on her hip. Orientation. Didn’t you go?

It had been a weekend in July. I’d spent it texting Blake. And taking pictures with my phone, but not anything that helped me navigate.

We walked back up to Fisher and she led me to the door right next to mine.

I’ll be right out, she told me and disappeared.

Right out meant something completely different to her than it did to me. I could have changed into fifteen different tops and jogged around the building by the time she came back out. I considered just grabbing another shirt from my room, but I looked cutest in yellow.

She finally came out and handed me my folded shirt. What do you think? She made a turn in front of me. Her top was a dark brown and her skirt much shorter.

You should be okay if you avoid crazed skateboarders. I pulled the shirt over my head.

I meant the outfit.

I guess it’s fine.

She pouted. What’s the point of a gay friend if he can’t help me pick out clothes?

We were friends? I liked the idea. As long as she got rid of the idea of me as her personal fashion consultant. He will sacrifice his shirt to keep you from flashing all of the East Campus. Even if it delays him getting some longed-for dick, but I didn’t think we were that kind of friend yet.

She smiled. I’m Makayla.

Ethan. I offered her my hand.

Hi, Ethan. She shook it, then pulled me closer with the grip. After dragging my head down, she muttered. I better not see a word of this adventure on social media. I’m from Philly. I know people. I’ll have you killed.

I pulled away and stared down at her.

She tilted her head, pretty face dimpling with her wide smile. I don’t believe in vague disclaimers.

* * *

The pedestrian bridge over the ravine was cool, or it would be when the August sunshine didn’t come through the glass, turning it into a conveyor-belt oven. I bet it made for cool photography opportunities, too, but I didn’t stop to take any pics. I was sweating by the time I escaped into the West Campus. I could see Kilpatrick Tower now, the only building over four floors tall on campus.

Blake was in 1208. I squeezed in with someone hauling what looked like half of an electronics store up to the twentieth and punched the button for twelve. My throat was dry when I stepped off the elevator, my skin too tight.

Then I was there, in front of 1208. Unlike some of the other doors I’d passed, this one was closed and free of any decoration. I knocked.

Yeah? The voice didn’t belong to Blake.

He hadn’t said much about his roommate. Only that the guy’s name was Wyatt Reese and he was a quiet computer nerd and always at the library—or as Blake had said, Maybe instead he’s running a meth lab someplace. He gets this look sometimes. Kinda creeps me, but he’s cool.

I’m looking for Blake.

Not here. The guy didn’t even open the door as he barked the answer.

Do you know where he went?

Nope.

God, I was so stupid. I’d forgotten the whole reason Blake had to be back early. He had to be at soccer practice.

There was Lake

Reviews for Getting Him Back

[crtsjffrsn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ethan has been looking forward to moving to college to be reunited with his boyfriend, Blake, for year. Blake graduated high school a year before Ethan, so they've only been able to see each other on breaks. But this is their time. Until Ethan arrives on campus and Blake informs him he doesn't want to be with him as his boyfriend anymore--but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to hook up from time to time. Ethan is initially devastated and wants nothing more to find out how he can get Blake back. He even goes so far as to engage with Blake's roommate, Wyatt, under false pretenses to learn more about his newly-minted ex. But Wyatt has an intrigue all his own, which leads Ethan to think it might be easier to move on from Blake than he originally thought. Could Ethan really start something with his ex-boyfriend's roommate? Is his time with Blake really in the past? And what is it that makes Wyatt keep pulling away from Ethan any time he tries to get close?

I'm not entirely sure where to start in describing this book except to say that I definitely enjoyed it. I feel like the author could have gone in so many different directions as this story played out, yet every avenue taken made for the perfect combination to bring this all together. The characters are great (even the ones hanging out in the background), and it's not too difficult to get attached to them (or want to distance yourself as far as possible in the case of Blake). The writing expertly captures the confusion, frustration, longing, and excitement that the characters feel at various points in the story. And it all can make one really reflect on the nature of relationships and sometimes not getting what we want to instead get exactly what we need.

[Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.]