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I rolled my eyes. "We're just friends."
Eric snorted. "Um, you're his friend. I just carpool. But that guy is definitely looking for something more, and as nice as he seems, he's not the kind of guy who likes to hear no. He looked like he wanted to kill me when I pointed out his mistake on the statute of limitations question."
"He knows about Brandon," I said as I picked up the empty pizza boxes and started breaking them down. "He knows I'm not interested that way."
"Does he?"
I set the flattened boxes on our small kitchen table, then came back to take a seat on the couch next to Eric.
"He does," I said as I started to shuffle together all of the notes I'd taken over the afternoon and evening.
Eric did the same, but sent me a considerable side-eye while doing it.
"He does," I insisted when I stood up with an armful of my books and notes.
"Whatever you say, Cros," Eric said with his usual practiced nonchalance.
"That's rich, considering the studied denial in your love life at the moment."
It hadn't escaped me that since last week, Eric had been in his room every night by ten o'clock, and there had been distinct radio silence from my friend in Chicago.
"I don't know what you are talking about," he said with a sly grin.
I just shook my head and brought my notes into my room. When I came out, Eric was flipping channels on the TV.
"I think we deserve some mind-numbing television," he said. "Westworld? Or the Sox game?"
My phone buzzed in my hand as I sat down. A text from Brandon: another semi-dirty picture of him lying in bed in nothing but his boxer briefs, giving me a look that should have melted my phone.
"A bit of advice," Eric said without even looking at me. "Maybe next week, you can hold off on the sexting with my boss until after study session is over. Might make Jared a little less...um...aware of you."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
Eric turned to me, lolling his blond head against the back of the couch. "Everything shows on your face, Cros. And I do mean everything."
Almost immediately I turned bright red. Eric chuckled and gave me a friendly pat on the knee as he turned back to the TV.
"Don't worry," he said. "It was actually kind of funny watching Jared look like he wanted to vomit every time you got a dirty text."
"You could tell?!" I screeched. "Am I really that bad?"
Eric flipped the channel back to the Sox game, and the blare of Fenway filled the room.
"That last message must have been a doozy," he confirmed with another cheeky grin.
I groaned into my hands. I normally wasn't quite so awful about masking my emotions, but when it came to Brandon, it was looking more and more like a lost cause.
~
