please man I’m lost without you
If that doesn’t tug at my damn heartstrings.
i’ll stroke you under the table and cook dinner after, promise
I snicker, and Claire raises an eyebrow.
“He made a sex joke,” I admit.
“This is gonna be easier than I thought!” she says. “He’s doing most of the work for you.”
Ok fine you convinced me but I’ll hold you to it
I’m free at 4 tmr
I fill Claire in, and before she has a chance to make another inconveniently true observation, I stick my hand up to stop her. “He’s treating me like a friend. I don’t think he’s into me.”
“Does he know you’re into guys?”
“No.”
“That’s probably why,” she says. “All you’re gonna have to dois ramp up the weird joking you men always do with each other, and then keep it up after youcasuallytell him you’re gay.”
“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”
Smiling to myself, I return my focus to my hellish assignment, but only partially. The prospect of getting my hands on Nick stays in the back of my mind, and already, I’m counting down the seconds until four p.m. tomorrow.
I’ll get a haircut first thing in the morning and wear something nice like Claire suggested. Nick isn’t exactly out of my league, but he’s still super fucking attractive. Anything that’ll boost my chances is fair game.
CHAPTER SEVEN
NICK
“Goodmorning,” Dean sings, sarcasm lining his voice.
“Huh—what?”
He throws a pillow at my face before I can wake up completely.
“Nice nap?” he asks. He’s sitting in the armchair across from the couch where I’ve been dead to the world for—fuck. For who knows how long.
“Shit, sorry,” I say, jolting upright. “Did I keep you waiting?”
Panic seeps through my veins, but Dean simply shrugs, restoring calm to my system.
“Nah, the door was unlocked so I let myself in, and it’s only just past four. You’re good.”
Okay, crisis averted. I don’t want to annoy Dean—he’s too good for that.
“So, are we gonna learn stuff today, or am I just gonna watch you snore on the couch?” He’s leaning back, smiling with his arms crossed, and my eyes drift up his body. It isn't like Dean usually dresses like a slob or anything, but there’s something different about him today, something that’s elevating his vibe above where it usually is.
Maybe it’s his clothes. I never really noticed them before, but when I take a closer look, he’s wearing stuff more in line with the preppy nature of WMU’s student body—nice pants and a polo, one that makes no secret of how he works out.
Shoot, amIunderdressed?I mentally kick myself for my slob-like outfit of jeans, a hoodie, and the couch blanket covering everything up, even though I’m in my own house.
“Yeah, let’s get to it.” I haul myself up. “Are you going somewhere after this?”
He shrugs. “Nah, I’ve got nothing planned. I just fell behind on laundry.”
