Nick #2
“I guess so, or maybe it’s dust.” I suppress a smile, deciding to keep joking around to distract myself from…myself. “Or maybe it’s you.”
“Seriously?” Dean gives me another shove to the shoulder, which reminds me how strong the guy is. “Focus on your work, man. I don’t want to come back and tutor your sorry ass if you have to retake this course next semester.”
“Yeah, yeah, nothing to worry about there.” I make quick work of the remaining practice questions and hand the book back to a still-smiling Dean, who skims my answers and nods.
“You did well. I think you’re in a good place.”
The praise lights me up inside, warming my core and making me grin. I lock eyes with Dean, and the second I do, my stomach drops a little. His pupils are dilated, and his eyes are narrowed slightly in a smile, even though the rest of his face isn’t giving anything away otherwise.
Then, as soon as it started, he snaps out of it, standing up and grabbing his bag. “Alright,” he says, his voice a tiny bit tense, probably from blood rushing to his head or something. “I’m heading out.”
He’s heading out already? Mindlessly, I extend my hand to dap him up, and we give each other friendly nods of acknowledgement.
Shit. I know he’s just supposed to be my tutor, but why do I already miss him?
Is he pretending to be my friend so tutoring is less awkward for him?
Does he even want to be my friend? I want to be his friend for sure, even if he’s into me.
While that might have the potential to make things complicated, it isn’t anything I haven’t dealt with before—all I have to do is keep things friendly on my end.
Ian totally had a crush on me when he first came to college, but I didn’t engage, he dropped it real quick, and now we’re tight.
“Yo, hold up,” I call out, and he stops putting his other shoe on, straightening up.
The door swings open, and Jeremy slips past us.
“What’s up?” Dean asks.
“So, uh, I got invited to a party at Kappa tonight. You wanna come with?”
Hopefully Dean associating me with the disgusting basement mosh pit and the acrid taste of flat, stale beer will kill off any attraction he has toward me.
“God, I haven’t been to a frat house in, like, two years.” He chuckles. His eyes sparkle a little, and the twist my stomach makes in response is annoying. “But I’m down. Should I meet you there?”
“Sounds good. I’m taking this fucker”—I point at Jeremy and his outstretched middle finger—“and we’re meeting some guys from the team in front of the house at nine. Meet me here or there. Anything’s fine.”
“Awesome. See you in a bit!”
Jeremy pounces the second Dean heads out. “Bro, you are so in,” he says, squeezing my shoulders to the point of pain. “You should have seen the way your boy Dean was smiling at you!”
I clear my throat.
“So, are you gonna go for it?” Jeremy continues, wiggling his eyebrows. “You should bring him into one of the secret back rooms at the frat tonight.”
I force myself to laugh through whatever messed-up combo of jealous, frustrated guilt is coursing through me. “Nah, I’m not gonna hook up with Dean.”
Jeremy groans. “Come on, man. Shit, I’d let your tutor rail me so hard, we’d dig through the earth and end up in his hometown.”
“Jesus Christ,” I sputter. “Keep it in your pants before you do something stupid, like stick it in someone you shouldn’t.”
He winces, and I tilt my head in confusion, but Jeremy doesn’t elaborate. “Have you been with anyone since Josh?”
Not with anyone who came close. “Yeah, of course. I’m just”—broken—“really, really picky.” Or still hung up on my ex. Or both.
If it wasn’t for Josh, my boyfriend from eleventh grade through our freshman year at college, I might have come to the conclusion that sex with someone else isn’t for me.
Even then, it still took me weeks to start wanting him back, and when he decided to stay in France permanently after his summer exchange, that just proved I’m a piece of work.
Ditched by my parents and the guy who convinced me to come out to them? Three people is a pattern, and I’m the common link between all of them.
“Yo, Nick?” Jeremy waves his palm in front of my face, pulling me out of my daze.
I shake my head. “Sorry, I spaced out.”
Jeremy chuckles, punching my shoulder. “Hey, I was just saying that you don’t have to bone down with him if you don’t want to.”
“We’re both graduating in April, and you know I don’t do casual,” I say.
Not like Dean does. Lucky bastard.
“You can have him if you want,” I continue. I don’t know why a jealous knot bundles up in my stomach. If I think about it, I don’t think I’m able to like Dean physically, at least not yet, and pawning him off on Jeremy is a logical step.
Dean’s my friend, and friends wingman each other—
“Thanks, but I’m swearing off sex,” Jeremy says. “I gotta stay focused on myself.”
I scoff. “Knowing you? You’re gonna die.”
That isn’t even much of an exaggeration. Other than being bi, Jeremy’s as close to a typical athlete as you can get, his propensity for intimacy included.
“We can’t all be like you,” he deadpans. “This’ll be good for me.”
Not knowing how to reply, and not really wanting to continue talking about his sex life, I simply shrug.
But then he points at me. “Still, you should give Dean a chance. Like, as friends. Or more.”
“As friends,” I insist.
“I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but he isn’t some random guy. If you want to bone, think about giving it a try.”
Sighing, I consider snapping back at Jeremy and telling him to drop it, but he has a point. I know Dean, and not from an app. It’s been a few weeks, which is how long it took me to get comfortable with Josh. Maybe I’m in my head too much.
“Fine,” I say firmly. “If he makes a move on me, I’ll see where it goes.”
The worst thing I could do is say no.