Because Frank isn’t mine, and as much as I long to claim him and turn him into my boy, right now, he’s someone who needs a little guidance. He’s made no move that makes me think he’s interested in anything besides a warm, safe place to study. I have no doubt that he’d make a great boy, whether he knows it or not. The question is whether he has any interest in being mine.
“There.” He drops his pencil and leans back in his chair, stretching his hands over his head. His shirt pulls up far enough for me to see a stripe of pale skin across his belly. I avert my eyes, but not before I take in the beautiful picture.
“Let me see,” I say, pulling the notebook toward me. I review his work quickly, trying to make sense of the chickenscratch in a few places. The steps are important, but I’m happy to see he also got the correct answer. “Perfect.”
“What?” Frank snatches the paper back from me.
“You got them all right. You’re ready.”
For the first time in my memory, he seems to be speechless. I’ll be enjoying this look on his face, a strange mix of happiness, pride, and awe, for a few days, pulling it up in my mind when I need a reminder of tonight.
“Get ready and go to bed.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gets up from the table, but I grab his forearm to stop him.
“You aren’t driving home this late. You can sleep in the guest room.” Should I ask rather than demand? Maybe, but when it comes to issues of safety and well-being, I’m not going to compromise.
He opens his mouth, and for a second, I think he’s going to argue with me. Say something about how he’s more than capable of getting himself home. Or how he needs something from his place. Instead, he takes a deep breath and says, “Thank you.”
I wait until I hear the water in the bathroom turn off and the door to the guest room latch shut before I move. I put away his notes and other materials, stacking them up and placing them neatly in his backpack.
In front of the guest bedroom door, I pause for a minute, staring and wondering what he’d do if I asked him to sleep in my bed instead. Laugh, probably, at the old man trying to hit on the hot twenty-something. I shake the thought from my head and retire, setting my alarm for only four hours from now. At least then, maybe some of this caffeine-fueled desire will have worn off. I doubt it, but it’s nice to dream.
Chapter Ten
FRANK
I slideinto my desk a few minutes before class starts. In an ideal world, I’d have been here ten minutes ago. This might not be perfect, but at least I’m not late. I’ll need every minute our professor gives us to complete this exam. Even then, I give it a forty percent chance of passing, a forty percent chance of failing, and a twenty percent chance of passing out in the middle. Perhaps someone more skilled in math should make those estimations. Working all day in Matthias’s yard had been hard. Not only because I was running on a few short hours of sleep, but because my gaze kept drifting to the house where I spent the previous night, hunched over the dining room table next to Matthias.
If we’d been doing anything but calculus, it might have been romantic.
Okay, it was a little romantic. There were a few moments when he touched me and I felt all the energy in the room spark through my body. He didn’t mean any of them, apparent by how quickly he moved away, but I swearthose touches are still running through my body, little zaps of electricity when I let my mind wander off.
I can’t help but wonder what he’d do if I kissed him. Probably throw me out on my ass. The last thing I want is to end up back at the diner and away from Matthias. I’m trying to figure out if I’ll still be invited over once our work on his yard finishes. We still have over a month, but will he still want a troublesome house guest when there’s no longer a risk of me dying in his backyard?
The clock ticks over, and Dr. Smith stands up from behind his desk. “You all know the drill by now. You have two hours to complete the exam. You get one page of notes and a calculator, nothing else. If your phone is out, I’ll assume you’re cheating.” I push thoughts of Matthias aside, attempting to fill my brain instead with visions of function and equations. Not nearly as sexy, but more useful.
I take the opportunity to put my phone in my backpack so I’m not tempted. I might not be the most intelligent person in this room, but if I fail, at least I’ll do it honestly. That’s the kind of can-do attitude I’m sure my future employers will appreciate.
Dr. Smith works his way through the rows of desks, passing out exam booklets. I try to find some of the confidence I felt last night with Matthias. That feeling had been fleeting, but there were a few moments when I was sure I could ace this exam.
Well, not ace it, but get a reasonable score that’s not shameful.
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that way before. Certainly not recently. It’s a feeling I want to hold on to for as long as possible. Sadly, I suspect those happy thoughts are about to come to an end.
I get my exam, holding my breath as I write my name on the front cover.
You’ve got this. Matthias’s words from this morning echo in my mind. God, I hope I can live up to the faith he’s putting in me. It’s a big ask. I can only imagine what he’d say if I came back and told him I failed. This is why I didn’t tell anyone I went back to school. If it all goes to hell, I can pretend it never happened and keep my shame to myself. Now, I’ll have to look at his face when I tell him how badly I’ve fucked things up.
That’s not something I can think about right now. Instead, I focus on what he might say if I do a good job—or an okay one. That one’s more likely, so it’s easier to imagine. His big smile that reaches all the way up through his cheeks and into his eyes, and the deep laugh when I joke with him. That image gives me the energy I need to let out my breath, open the cover, and start the exam.
I read the first question twice. Not because I don’t understand it—yay— but because it sounds too easy. I must be missing something. After the second reading, I shrug and start working through the problem.
You’ve got this.
I repeat the words to myself over and over as I work through the calculations for the question. In what feels like way too long and way too little time, I get an answer that seems reasonable.
One down, eleven to go.
