“Really?” I lean forward now, my interest piqued.
A soft blush creeps into Nicko’s cheeks, and he looks up at the sky rather than meeting my questioning gaze, but he nods. “Xan figured it out, even though I didn’t wanna tell him. He didn’t care. Didn’t rush me either,” he continues quietly.
It feels almost too intimate to learn this about my best friend, but I’m spellbound.
“That’s so sweet,” I whisper.
Nicko turns his head and smiles. “You’ll find someone who’ll do the same for you. I’m sure.”
I pick my next words carefully. “I hope so. Anyway, do you want to pop in and take—” My head whips around at the suddenbangof our back door closing.
“There you are! What are you talking about?” Olli waltzes in, subtle like a hurricane. “Eh, not important, listen tomyproblems!” He plops down in the last free lawn chair and kicks his shoes off so he can push his feet into the pool as well.
“You’llneverguess what I did today. In fact, no one could ever guess what I did today, so I’ll tell you.” Olli grabs Nicko’s glass from his outstretched hand and promptly talks over hiscomplaint. “Do either of you know The Hot Professor? St. Bernard’s Hot Professor, I mean?” He pauses to take a big gulp of peach tea.
“No.” I was enjoying the peace and quiet, and having my best friend all to myself, but cue Olli, the star of his personal telenovela, ready to bless us with a story about—
“Wait, that literature professor? Something Florence? Floretti? Nate took one of his classes! I was there when we switched pla—” Nicko’s excited voice breaks off. He throws me a short glance, but Olli’s already continuing with his tale.
“Fiore! Dark hair? Arms like a fucking bodybuilder and an attitude likeYes, Daddy!”
“Yes!”
“I don’t know him,” I mutter, my brows creasing.
“He’shothot,” Olli says, like that explains everything.
I shrug, but again, he keeps talking.
“I’ve been working for his office during the summer, doing all kinds of administrative BS, answering emails, proofreading some papers, yadda yadda.” Olli’s hands wave through the air, splashing some peach tea into the pool. “And today he told me that he feels burnt out, that he’s lost his muse, can't write, that kinda stuff. SoI, in my boundless enthusiasm to help and be A Good Aid, recommended some books to him.” He pauses to empty his glass, then lets it drop into the wilting grass next to his chair.
“‘The best books I’ve ever read!’I said.‘They’re so well written and have deep themes about friendship, family, and life!’I told him.”
I frown. The only non-study-related books I’ve ever seen Olli read are—
“Oh my God!” I gasp.
Olli nods. “‘My absolute favorite books, Professor Fiore, you’ll love them.’ I looked the man right in the eyes as I said this!”
“I don’t get it.” Nicko huffs, reaching for my glass now. I’m too busy staring at Oliver, who’s buried his head in his hands, to defend it.
“You didn’t! Olli, those—”
“I recommended the smuttiest, filthiest bookseverto aliteratureprofessor. Whom I work for!” Olli groans, letting himself fall backward into the lawn chair. “Fuckingkillme.”
Nicko snorts before he slurps up the rest of the peach tea and then crunches one of the ice cubes. “Serves you right.”
Pretending he didn’t hear Nicko’s jab, Olli mumbles from behind his hands, “Literally the first book I yapped about has one guy hooking up with his future boss in a BDSM club! They talk about rope bondage and chokingin the prologue! I’m gonna have to leave the country and change my name, change my face! My beautiful face!”
Nicko and I laugh hysterically at his overly dramatic meltdown.
I love those books too. That’s why I stoleKeeping Noahoff his shelf after all.
“It’s not even funny, guys!” Olli laments, but finally his arms slump down in defeat. “I might as well have recommended theKamasutraorGay Sex for Dummies.” His pitiful appearance makes us laugh even harder.
“Pretty sureFioredoesn’t need any help with that, but who knows.” Nicko snickers, fishing another ice cube from the glass.
“A married professor with children probably doesn’t need it, but do you wanna borrow them?”
