Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
PRESTON
The latest batch of images generated by Stable Diffusion is not what I expected. In fact, they’re measurably worse than the last batch. Which makes no sense. The tweaks I made to the model should’ve worked. The images should be more defined and the colors a closer match.
“Pres!”
A hand grabs my arm and yanks me backward. If I hadn’t been clutching my tablet so tightly, it would’ve flown out of my hand and landed on the sidewalk.
“Jesus, Pres. You’ve got to pay attention when you’re crossing the road.”
I glance around and it takes me a moment to realize where I am: across the street from my building, and I was about to walk into oncoming traffic. Oops.
“Sorry, I’ve been trying to figure out this adjustment I made to my model.
Do I need to revert back to what I had before?
Or maybe the adjustment wasn’t big enough.
Yeah, maybe I need to turn it up even more.
” My feet start moving in the direction of school, but Madison stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Ah ah, no way. I’ve already dragged you out of your lab once today. I’m not doing it again. We’re going to be late as it is. Light’s changed. Here we go.” She marches forward and I have no choice but to scramble along beside her.
“I have so much work to do!” I whine, even though it won’t do any good. Madison’s been tasked with getting me to that fundraising dinner in Boston and she never fails at her job.
“Yeah, Pres, so do I. But here we are.” She holds out her hand, palm up. “Keys.”
I reach into my pocket and they’re not there. Huh, maybe in my bag? Madison has to hold my tablet and a couple textbooks for me before I find the keys at the bottom. I pass them to her and she gets us through the front door and up to my apartment.
I’ve got my head bent over my tablet again, studying the code, when I walk straight into Madison’s back.
“Sorry!” I say automatically, then look up and see what made her stop in her tracks.
In the middle of my apartment, halfway between the kitchen and the living room is Fitz. Naked.
Okay, not entirely naked. He’s wearing a pair of boxer briefs, but that’s all.
If there’s any doubt around whether Fitz works out, this is definitive proof.
Toned muscles under evenly tanned skin. Smooth chest and a thin line of hair down the middle of his stomach.
With his hair all mussed, he looks like he just stepped out of an underwear ad.
Something hot and violent roils around in my stomach at the sight of him.
I want to charge at him, tackle him to the ground and pummel him.
I want to throw something, anything—even my tablet—at him, and scream at the top of my lungs.
Who the hell does he think he is, waltzing around in my apartment like he owns the place?
My feet try to carry me forward, fueled by the raging inferno erupting inside me. But Madison’s a brick wall and won’t move out of the way.
“Oh, hello!” Madison gives him a very deliberate once-over. “And who might you be?”
Fitz has the decency to realize that he’s—basically—naked in someone else’s home. He shuffles to hide his immodesty behind the kitchen island.
“Hi! I’m Fitz. I, uh, I’m the new grad student in Preston’s lab.”
Madison slowly turns to regard me over her shoulder.
She’s got a million questions running through her head, and she shoots every single one at me with a single look.
“Is that so? How interesting. Unfortunately, Preston’s never mentioned you to me before.
And since we’ve just arrived, you’re here before we are because… ?”
Fitz swallows visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His gaze darts down the hall toward the bedrooms. That’s when I hear the sound of a bathroom fan—or rather, I notice the lack of noise when it suddenly gets cut off. A door opens and footsteps echo, growing louder as they get closer.
Sawyer appears a moment later, wearing boxers that show off his thick thighs and a tight Mars Fitness t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest and muscled shoulders. His blond hair is a shade darker than normal, wet from the shower he must’ve just taken.
He pauses when he spots Madison and me in the doorway. “Oh, hey, guys. I didn’t realize you were home.”
“We just got here, actually!” Madison sounds cheerful, but there’s a sharp edge in her voice. She turns back to Fitz. “And we’re introducing ourselves to Fitz. I’m Madison, by the way. Think of me as the third musketeer.”
“Hi, Madison,” Fitz squeaks.
“Fitz joined the gym recently,” Sawyer says, his gaze sliding from Madison to me. “I was showing him the Brooklyn Bridge earlier.”
There’s something in his eyes as we look at each other, something that makes my heart lurch and my lungs contract.
I want to go to him and claim him and hold him to me.
I want to press myself against him, feel his arms around me, and stay that way until our breaths fall into sync.
But I can’t because Madison’s still standing in my way, and I can’t because Fitz is edging his way in.
“I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on here, so Preston and I are going to sneak right past you and get ready for tonight’s event in his room.
” She grabs me by both shoulders and physically hauls me forward as she skirts around Sawyer and Fitz.
Under her breath, she whispers to me, “Come on, keep going. One foot in front of the other.”
I don’t consciously move my feet, but by the time we get to my room, my legs no longer want to hold me up. I sink onto my bed and Madison shuts the door behind us.
My fingers dig into the covers and my stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out. I can’t get the image of Fitz out of my head, standing there, in the middle of my home, wearing absolutely nothing.
I know I’m not the most observant person.
I don’t put two and two together very well in most cases.
But even I’m not so oblivious that I don’t know what he’s doing here.
He’s having sex with Sawyer. Sawyer’s having sex with him.
They’re not just friends anymore if they ever were to begin with.
They’re friends with benefits… or maybe more.
After a moment of silence, Madison asks softly, “You okay, Pres?”
I jerk upright at Madison’s question. Gone is her overly cheerful expression. Her eyes are gentle with concern and her mouth is slightly downturned in a worried frown.
No, is the first answer that pops into my head. But what reason do I have to be not okay?
I don’t like Fitz—fine. But I’ve never put limitations on who Sawyer can be friends with, who he has sex with, who he sees.
He’s dated a bunch of people in the past. He’s brought those dates home before.
I’ve seen them here—men and women—and tried to have awkward conversations with them.
I’ve never felt so viscerally irritated by anyone else in Sawyer’s life.
So why Fitz? What is it about him that triggers this kind of response?
Madison pushes away from the door. “Alright, enough of that. Let’s get you in the shower. You’ll feel better afterward, promise.”
I let Madison take my bag and my jacket, and then she pushes me into the bathroom. “I’ll pick out your ‘fit for the night and hang it inside the door.”
I move robotically through my shower, then mindlessly change into the shirt and pants Madison slipped inside.
When I step out, she hands me a belt, socks, shoes.
She holds up the suit jacket for me and slips it over my shoulders, smoothing the fabric down my back and adjusting the lapels to lay flat against my chest.
“Nice.” Then she grabs two tie options from the bed. She holds one up to my chest, then the other, squinting with her head tilted to the side. “Hmm, hold on.”
My bedroom door is standing open now and Madison steps back so she can shout through it. “Sawyer! Need your help in here!”
Immediately, footsteps start heading in our direction.
“What’s up?” Sawyer pokes his head in. He stills when his eyes land on me and they take a slow, roving path from my head down to my feet and up again.
Heat rushes through me—probably a delayed reaction from the shower or something—and I tug at the fitted collar of my shirt.
Sawyer clears his throat. “Sorry, what did you need me for?”
Madison smirks and holds up the two ties. “Which one?” She moves to stand behind me, reaching around to place each tie against my chest. “Option one? Option two?”
He thinks about it for an awfully long time. I don’t know anything about fashion—he must be making a dozen different considerations about colors and patterns and stuff.
“Just pick one, damn it!” Madison finally starts losing her patience.
“Option two,” he says, his voice rough for some reason. He coughs and mutters a “sorry,” before rushing out to the kitchen, probably to grab some water.
“God, the two of you.” Madison shakes her head as she loops the tie around my neck and flips the two ends over each other in a complicated knot. When she tightens the tie, she yanks it up so high, she nearly strangles me.
“Ow.” I tug at it, loosening it enough so I can breathe.
Madison rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Okay, good enough. Come on, the plane’s waiting for us.”
She passes me my phone, wallet, and keys.
I stare longingly at my tablet, wondering whether I can bring it with me.
But Madison pushes it out of my reach and directs me out of the room.
When we pass Sawyer’s bedroom, the door is closed and the murmured voices inside are barely audible.
I slow to a stop, straining to hear what they’re saying—what are they talking about? Are they talking about me?
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Madison backtracks to grab my arm and drags me out of the apartment. She doesn’t let go until the town car pulls up and she pushes me into the back seat.
The second the car pulls away from the curb, she turns to me. “Okay, spill. What’s the deal with Half-Naked Guy?”