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“I’m not sure that would stop me.”

“You are really bad at this. I thought you were good at this kind of thing.”

“This kind of thing,” I say slowly. “I’ve never done this before.”

He scoffs. “You did. Multiple times that I know of.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Have I?”

Friends with benefits implies going back to the same bed more than once. And I’ve only done that once or twice. People catch feelings with more.

“Yeah, that girl in the hallway…and that other time…and⁠—”

“Riley,” I say, because she does have a name, but the feelings I had for her were not the same as what I feel with Quinn. “That wasn’t this.”

His jaw tightens. His gaze falls to the chips. “You kissed her, probably more.”

“I did.” I’m not going to deny something we both know to be true. But it also doesn’t have any weight on what we are doing now. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve gone back to her bed since. I haven’t slept with anyone in over a month.”

He swallows.

“I only want you.” I keep my voice down. “You can be mad about that night. I’m not asking you to like it. But if you hold what I did before against me, this won’t work. I did one night stands to blow off steam. I haven’t ever written down eight rules in a notebook. And I’ve never held myself back from kissing someone in public before. This is new. You’re new.”

He doesn’t bring his gaze back to mine, and I wait for him to process what I just said.

“Over a month,” he says, lifting his eyes to mine.

I nod. “Over a month.”

“And you only want me.”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

He doesn’t have a chance to answer when the waitress appears with our drinks. Water for him and a soda for me. My attempt to get him to order a margarita had not worked. He was just so adorable last time. Even half of one would loosen him up a little bit. He seems so nervous.

“They still have margaritas,” I say with a grin as the waitress walks away.

“I don’t like tequila.”

“I think you do. You called me pretty last time.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“I do.”

He kicks my shoe under the table. “Don’t look at me like that in here,” he mutters, his eyes flicking over my shoulder as if the rest of the room can see the expression on my face.

I can’t help teasing him when I say, “Yes, roommate, who I am not dating.”

He tries not to smile, but he can’t hide it from me. Even when our waitress comes back with our food. Service is pretty fast tonight. It probably has something to do with campus already starting to clear out. Half the dining hall will be empty by tomorrow night, going down to the light service they have over breaks for international students and those with an exemption. Our building is going to sound so empty with ninety percent of the people gone.

“Are your friends heading home?” I ask. I unwrap my tortillas and pile one high with steaming meat, cheese, and a mix of peppers and onions.

“Christine leaves after class tomorrow. Vee and Sarah are staying, but they have an apartment and Vee doesn’t have much family, so Sarah stays with her. Lincoln will be here until the twenty-third, because he has a match. And his mom would have a fit if he didn’t come home.” He takes a bite of his taco.

“So, why aren’t you going home with Lincoln? Don’t you live in the same area?”

He nods, covering his mouth with his hand. “Yeah. I’m from a small town in Pennsylvania. Everyone knows everyone, and the town gossip is unavoidable. I’m not really close to my parents. They never understood me growing up, and I’m not sure they tried to.”