Chapter 6 #2
“That’s imposing even more,” I protest, which gets me a relaxed chuckle in reply. “Seriously, I’m okay with heading home.” My mind lags for a second before I remember my manners. “But thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Okay,” he replies, digging into his box of pasta. “The offer still stands if you change your mind.”
We’re both drunk-ish and ravenous, so we don’t talk as we inhale our food. Ian finishes before me, grabbing me water and a napkin without me asking, and I try to finish my pasta faster so he doesn’t feel a need to do even more for me.
“Well, I should head home,” I say, standing up once I’m done. “Thanks again for having me over. And for the food. I really liked it.”
Ian leans back and smiles, sending a surge of comfort through my body. “Yeah, it’s getting late. I’d offer to drive you in this weather, but…” He trails off and nods to his empty glass.
“Right.” I grab my jacket from the coat rack, and I’ve barely gotten an arm into a sleeve when I notice him eyeing me, his head tilted.
“Jesus Christ, man,” he mutters. “You’re gonna freeze to death.”
I shrug. “I’m from Wisconsin. I’ll be fine.”
That’s a lie if I ever told one. It’s well below freezing, and I’m not looking forward to the walk back to my dorm. At least it won’t take too long.
Ian jumps up and rushes into his room before returning with something wrapped in plastic. “Here,” he says, tearing the package open. “I ordered a parka for my dad, but I found out he bought the exact same one for himself. I think it’ll fit so you can ha—use it.”
Am I imagining things? Who does this?
“You can’t just give me a coat. That’s money,” I say.
He thinks for a few seconds, the silence swirling around us like the snow outside. “I can still return it, even if it’s open,” he finally says, stretching his hand out to offer me the jacket.
I don’t take it.
“Come on.” Another one of those disarming smiles spreads across Ian’s face. “I know you want it.”
Oh, even I can tell that’s suggestive as heck, and unwelcome desire pools deep in my gut as soon as his words stroke my eardrums. He’s joking. I know he is, but my slightly drunk, very hyper dick doesn't get the memo.
My mouth moves before I can stop myself. “Uh, am I supposed to flirt with you now? Like you did with Nick when he said that?”
Woah, way to be direct.
Ian parts his lips, and I brace for him to tell me I’m being weird.
He laughs instead. Loudly. Doubling over and gripping the wall to stay balanced, too. “Oh my god,” he wheezes. “That's funny as fuck. Not if you don’t want to. It’s just how the two of us bond. Pretty common dude behavior.”
A tentative smile manages to creep across my face. “I’m also a dude.”
“That’s true.” He pauses, exhaling stiffly. “In that case, you’re more than welcome to flirt with me however you want.”
“What, like now?”
Ian chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no takebacks. Besides, it wouldn’t mean anything.”
Everything I’ve seen says that he’s straight. I know joking wouldn’t mean anything, but hearing it still puts another pit in my stomach.
Deciding against overthinking, I say the first words that come to mind: “You’re sexy as heck in that shirt.”
Oh, Jesus, that was awful.
“Nah, man, not quite,” Ian says, smirking. “That was too polite. The trick is to go way overboard so I know you aren’t serious. A rude pickup line that’d get a drink thrown at you if you actually used it on someone.”
“Yeah, like what?” I ask.
“Watch and learn, buddy.” He steps closer, and I swallow a lump of nervous anticipation. “Aw, you’re leaving already?” He bats his light eyelashes at me and runs a firm hand down my left arm.
I know he’s joking, but my heart jumps anyway.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay?” Ian purrs. He leans in, biting his lip and frying my defenseless brain even more. “I can get on my knees for you to sweeten the deal.”
That’s certainly a visual. An appealing visual. Why’d he have to say—
He licks his lips, too.
Why’d he have to do that? Now I can’t get that image out of my mind. My breath catches as a depraved image of Ian on his knees for me materializes in my head, and I struggle to force it out before I can make poor imaginary Ian do anything worse.
Thankfully, he snorts and brings me back to reality, a place where he isn’t into me. “That’s how it’s done. Make it absurd.”
I clear my throat. “Got it.”
“Anyway, you flirt, you’re taking the coat.” He thrusts said coat into my unsuspecting arms, and I unfold it, slipping the thick fabric around my shoulders.
This is the nicest thing I’ve ever worn, hands down. I was already warm from the alcohol and Ian being sweet, but this is a whole other level. The lining is soft, the shell is sturdy, and there’s a hood, too.
Ian grins at me. “Does it fit?”
It does, and I nod.
“Thought so,” he says. “It looks great on you, too. You sure you don’t want to keep it?”
“I’m sure, but thanks.” I pick up my empty takeout bowl so I can throw it out, and Ian takes it from me.
“Don’t worry about this. I got you,” he says. “Get home safe, buddy.”
Buddy. My stomach squeezes at the endearing nickname, but I can’t get all emotional in front of Ian. I settle for giving him a quick thanks and head out into the snow, pulling the fleece-lined hood over my head, and I make it back to the dorm, dry and warm.
He’s so nice, it’s almost uncanny, and I’ll be damned if I take advantage of him, even though he’s actively proving my parents wrong—other people can care about me.
Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer. I’m giving the coat back as soon as I can. It’s the nice thing to do.