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I can’t resist saying, “I know.”
She rolls her eyes. “You didn’t seem surprised.”
“I wasn’t.”
Another eye roll. “That did not seem like a guy whodoesn’t likeexpectations. It seemed like a guy who exceeded them.”
“You’re comparing hockey and a hookup? How is that the same thing?”
“I barely know you, but I thought a sex analogy would be most likely to get through to you.”
I roll my eyes, fighting the smile. “It sounds like you just wanted to let me know I’m a fantastic lay.”
“You knew that already.”
Based on her reactions that night, I knew she enjoyed our hookup, yeah. But that’s different from hearing it now, a month after. I fight the urge to ask her ifZerois still her answer. Like she said, it’s none of my damn business.
The silence between us is a little less awkward as the elevator doors open.
We’re on the fifth floor, which I’ve never been up to before. I didn’t even know the libraryhadfive floors.
I don’t mention that to Rylan, just trail behind her as she walks over to a table by a window. It faces the campus green, offering a sprawling glimpse at a large section of campus, lit up by the lamps that line the walkways.
It’s a nice view.
Not as nice as the one across the table.
I pull out the assignment sheet Rylan gave me last week, plus the papers I drew out the answers on, and slide both across the table to her. “Here you go.”
She pushes a paper back. This week’s assignment, I’m assuming.
We must look like we’re participating in some academic drug deal.
“Here’s this week’s assignment,” she tells me. “Look it over while I grade this.”
I nod, settling back in the chair and stretching my legs out. To the side, so I don’t hit hers.
Rylan slides the paper back to me about ten minutes later.
“Ninety-one. Nice work.”
She drew a little smiley face next to the two numbers, and fuck if I don’t want to frame this. I’ll stick it on the fridge for Conor and Hunter to admire, at the very least. Between the miracle of me managing an A on anything and the hat trick this past weekend, that should take care of the concerned glances I’ve been getting since the start of the semester.
“Thanks,” I say, instead of the smugTold you soI had planned.
Nothing comes out about the three hours I spent on it or the teammate I had check it over, either.
We just stare at each other for a few seconds, and I’m startled the breath Rylan pulls in appears a little shaky, almost unsteady.
“Ready to start regression analysis?” she asks.
I’m ninety-one percent sure that I remember regression analysis just as well as I did summation notation and measures of variability.
But I don’t say so. I just nod.
Because I’m wary of offending her again.
And…because I’m in no rush to leave.
