“I know you are.” I keep my eyes on the mirror, watching my form instead of him. “But you don’t have to do this every time we hang out.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Ryan.”
He goes quiet, picking up his own weights.
I finish my set and reach for my towel, thinking about Mike opening up to me about his parents. And his face when I saidyou’re mine. The way his eyes went a little glossy.
Maybe this arrangement we have is clouding my judgment. Or maybe, I see a version of him that no one else does.
Things have been off with Ryan since the night of Mike’s show. Almost like he’s a little bitobsessedwith him.
Almost like he knows.
But that’s crazy. How would he know? Sure, the song was kind of a giveaway, but for all he knows, Mikewasscrewing with me. I haven’t given him any reason to believe there are feelings there.
There aren’t supposed to be.
But all I know is, he’s been finding reasons to get me away from the house. Texting at weird hours asking if I want to come over, showing up at the end of my shift with sudden plans I know we didn’t make.
I gotta find a way to get him off my back about this.
Maybe telling him about us wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
“You doing anything for Thanksgiving?” Ryan asks, changing the subject,finally.
“Going home to Nate’s.”
“Oh. Sweet.” He pauses. “You could come over after. Dorms will be mostly empty, so we could watch something in the common room.”
“I don’t think I’ll be back until Monday.”
“Yeah,” he says. “No problem.”
I glance back at him, and he’s staring at the floor, doing another curl, his jaw set in that way that’s starting to seem permanent.
I should be asleep right now, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
Five days.
Nate asked, and I said yes because he said they missed me, and I haven’t spent any real quality time with them since I moved in here, even though they live less than twenty minutes away.
I feel bad about it, I really do.
I chose to go to Rosehill University because I wanted to be close to them. But it’s easy to get wrapped up here. Campus can feel like its own little world. And that was before I was arranging my schedule around getting to spend as much time with Mike as possible.
So I’m going. But I’m in my head about it.
Mike doesn’t announce himself anymore. My warning is the sound of the door opening and closing before he settles in beside me. “You’re not asleep,” he says, into my shoulder.
“I’m working on it,” I tell him, turning around to hold him.
“Liar.” He cuddles closer, looking up at me, reaching up to stroke my hair. “What are you thinking about?”
I look at the ceiling with a deep exhale, but I don’t lie to him. “Are you going to have anyone over?” I ask. “While I’m gone.”
He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at me, and even in the dark, I can feel the knowing expression on his face.
