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Men who so far were charming my pants off, even though I didn’t have any.
Drinks arrived, and food shortly after. We ate between laughter. Talked between drinking and flirting and devouring a series of incredible appetizers rather than ordering full meals. We had another round of drinks after that, and then once more, I was being abruptly whisked away.
This time we walked an even shorter distance, until we were standing before a large, ramshackle old building. It was old and run down. Well-scarred by time, yet imbued with a distinctive character and charm. Somehow I knew; this was where they lived.
“Come in for a drink?”
The snow was falling even harder now, starting to accumulate in the street.
I nodded without hesitation, and a minute later we were in a deathtrap masquerading as an elevator. Adam pulled the door — which was really nothing more than a collapsible gate — closed manually, and Dante slid an ancient brass key into a worn slot before pulling on a nearby lever. Somehow, after shuddering through a series of violent death-throes, the old, rickety car started to rise.
“You still use the key?” Adam laughed.
“What?”
“Any key works bro,” he explained. “This thing is so old and shot, I usually start it with my car key nowadays.”
Dante squinted back at him. “No shit?”
“Oh yeah,” said Adam. “If anyone else figures it out though, we’re gonna come home one day to an empty apartment.”
Now it was Dante’s turn to laugh. “What are they gonna do? Steal all the shit we don’t have?”
The car rumbled along, the dirty sides of the elevator shaft visible as we rose through the floors. It was like something straight out of a movie.
“You ride this thing every day?” I asked incredulously, as the car quivered and shook.
“Well it still beats the stairs,” Dante smiled.
I looked him up and down again, this gorgeous dark-haired Adonis with a carefully sculpted physique. Something told me he wasn’t adverse to a few stairs.
“Besides, there aren’t usually four of us,” Adam laughed. Then, with an almost imperceptible shrug. “Usually…”
I felt like a fly, caught in a spider’s web. Only instead of wriggling in some life-or-death struggle to break free, I was writhing in anticipation of what was to come.
The elevator rumbled to a stop, and the gate opened into a breathtaking, top-floor studio apartment. It was a wide open space with incredible window-to-window views. It was sectioned out into a living area, a small corner kitchen, and on the other side… a pair of large, crisply-made beds.
“Welcome home,” said Dante, kicking his shoes into another corner. He began unbuttoning his shirt without even hesitating, pulling it off like he did at the end of every day.
Adam was already at the fridge. He produced a few bottles of beer, then scrambled around and came up with a bottle opener.
“You all live here?” I asked, stepping my way though the brick-walled apartment. I’d already taken Dante’s lead and stepped out of my shoes.
“The two of us do,” Dante indicated, pointing also to Adam. “Trey still lives on campus.”
“Y—You’re still a student?” I tried — way too late, might I add — to hide the surprise in my voice.
“Student teacher,” Trey corrected immediately. “I graduated, but I’m going for my Masters in Engineering. They’ve got me teaching a few physics classes,” he shrugged, “so for now it’s easier to just stay on campus. Not to mention, the rent is free.”
I nodded mechanically, seeing Trey suddenly in an all new light. I knew he was smart, but not this smart. Not engineering and physics and professor smart. The whole package was impressive.
“Come,” said Dante. “Relax with us.”
He sank into a chair, just as Adam handed him a beer. The other two took what seemed to be their familiar positions on the couch, while holding a cold bottle out to me.
I approached slowly, my bare feet padding against the smooth wooden floor. It felt orgasmically good to be out of my shoes. The apartment was exceptionally cozy and comfy, despite being wide open. Warm, welcome air was blowing down on me, from one of the big aluminum tubes overhead.
“Thanks,” I said sheepishly, reaching for the beer.
