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Brandon: we're on for Friday?
Me: yes.
Brandon: I made a reservation. 7 o'clock here.
A few seconds later I received a map pinning a Brazilian restaurant in Brighton called João's. I flipped through the menu. I'd never been there, although Boston did have a pretty big Brazilian community. It didn't look like a fancy place, which I was happy to see. Before I could reply as much, my phone buzzed once more.
Brandon: what r u wearing? can i get a hot pic to get me through the day?
I bit my lip, then typed out a quick reply.
Me: r u srsly asking me to sext u before your divorce meeting?
The reply was instantaneous.
Brandon: That might be the only thing that WILL get me through it.
I giggled, then sent one more text.
Me: I'll show u mine if u show me yours.
I put my phone down on my desk and started winding my hair into a loose bun at the crown of my head. Our third-floor apartment was heating up in the summer sun, and we didn't have an air conditioner. That was going to have to change soon.
My phone buzzed again, and when I swiped to reveal the message, I was glad to be sitting down, since the picture Brandon sent made my knees feel like Jell-O. It was selfie shot he'd taken down his be-suited body. He had untucked his white dress shirt and unbuttoned from the bottom, spread aside with his black tie to reveal the washboard abs he knew made me drool. Below, one big hand rested on the front of his pants, grabbing an obvious erection.
I bit my lip and squirmed, suddenly very aware of the fact that I had just been cleared for sex.
My phone vibrated again in my hand.
Brandon: Your turn, Red.
I pushed up from my seat and stood in front of the mirror mounted over the vanity desk. I decided to go for a similar look. I'd show him mine, as I said. I pulled up the bottom of my tank, revealing my own flat stomach and the cut of my hip bones set off by my low-slung joggers. For good measure, I pulled the shirt high enough to reveal the underside of one breast, since I'd forgone a bra for comfort. Then, just because I knew it would torture Brandon, I put my glasses on, bit my bottom lip, and took the picture.
"Crosby!" Eric yelled from the living room. "You coming?"
After checking that I didn't look like a complete alien in my photo, I fixed my shirt and pressed send.
"Keep your pants on," I said as I walked back to the living room. "I'm coming, I'm coming." I set my phone on the table and picked up the study packet Eric had prepared for me. "Ready?
My phone buzzed, and Jared's gaze flickered down to the message clearly displayed on the front.
Brandon: daaaaaaammmmnnn. u know how to tease a guy.
I flushed and snatched the phone off the table.
"Come on, boys," I said, unable to meet Jared's sharp glance. "Let's get to work. This exam isn't going to pass itself."
~
The rest of the afternoon passed easily, and when dinnertime rolled around, Jared happily volunteered to order pizza while we plowed through the rest of the assignments for the week and got a few days ahead on the course readings. I didn't miss the way Jared occasionally peeked curiously every time my phone buzzed, but he didn't say anything more about Brandon, and I had to admit that studying together as a group worked well. At this rate, we'd all pass easily.
Sometime past nine, Jared left with a smile and a "See you tomorrow", since we'd be carpooling with him back to Andover the next morning.
"You're going to have to be careful with that one, Crosby," Eric remarked from the couch as I shut the door.
I turned around with a frown. "What? Why?"
Eric stretched his long arms out across the back of the sofa and gave me a look that basically said, "Seriously?"
