CHAPTER SEVENTEEN NICK
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
NICK
“Dude, you didn’t do the dishes,” Jeremy complains when I walk into our apartment for the first time in a week.
“Fuck you, man,” I fire back. “I wasn’t even here, so they’re the ones you left behind.”
My smug, smirking roommate stays silent, letting me know I’ve dug myself into a hole.
Heat creeps up my neck. “I got lonely.”
“Aww, and you cured that by shacking up with someone?” Jeremy wiggles his eyebrows. “For a whole week?”
I nod, not seeing any point in trying to get myself out of the ribbing that’s gonna come my way. It was cold, and Dean lent me his old laptop so I could keep up with my assignments, so there wasn't really any reason for me to come back.
That, and I can fit into a lot of Dean's clothes, not like we even used many clothes with how often the two of us stripped each other naked.
Jesus. I guess this is what happens when I can’t have good sex for years—I turn into a goddamn menace. Or an addict. Or maybe I’m the same horny fuck I’ve always been, just that now, finally, I have someone to share that with.
“Oh, man, Ian’s gonna love this news!” Jeremy exclaims, rubbing his hands together like he’s plotting some kind of scheme.
“Why is my sex life any of you guys’s business?” I ask.
“Because you’ve been a monk since I met you. Who is it? Is it scandalous?”
“Yeah, sure. I had a week-long, raunchy orgy with all the guys on the team who stayed back for break.” I scoff when Jeremy’s eyes widen, and I toss my keys at him. “I’m kidding. Everyone else was gone, and besides, I’d never get involved with a teammate. I have morals.”
He shuts up.
Wait.
The guy never shuts up. Did I say something wrong? Did I insult him?
Did he hook up with a teammate?
If he did, that’d be messier than Dean’s living room after he sat on the cursed couch and broke the thing into a million pieces, and I don’t want to fucking know. I need to take this conversation somewhere else.
“It’s Dean,” I blurt out. “I spent the week with Dean.”
“Wait, what’s going on?” Ian asks, taking out an earbud as he lets himself in.
I flick my eyes over to Jeremy, and fuck, he’s smirking.
“Nick got laid. With his tutor,” he says.
“Oh, shit?” The corners of Ian’s mouth turn up momentarily, and a small seed of nervous embarrassment digs into my stomach while a blush shoots up my neck. “That’s…nice? Good for you?”
“Hah. You aren’t relieved for me or anything?” I ask, trying to inject some levity into what was supposed to be a chill hangout.
“No, I’m just happy for you.” Ian scratches the back of his neck. “I won’t ask you what changed—”
“The guy’s too hot for Nicky to resist,” Jeremy mumbles, faking a cough for an effect that doesn’t land.
“Not true,” I retort when Ian suppresses a laugh. “You know how I’ve said I need to get comfortable with a guy before doing anything?”
Ian nods. “Yeah, and…most of the guys on campus are dicks who tried to fuck in the first ten minutes?”
“Uh-huh. Long story short, my team-assigned tutor, Dean, is a nice guy, we became friends, and now I can’t stop thinking about him.”
With a congratulatory slap to my shoulder, Ian comes to my side. “That’s great! But I need to be a douche for a second—what does the guy look like?”
“Typical,” I mutter, smiling and pulling my phone out. I settle on a fully clothed picture of Dean lying in the collapsed remnants of his fragile couch, flipping me off with an adorable disbelieving expression plastered all over his handsome face, and I flip the screen toward Ian.
“Oh, nice. Jesus, good for you, bro,” Ian says, nodding. “So are you two, like…”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We’ve agreed to be casual, but, uh, yeah.”
“But, uh, yeah?” Jeremy mocks me. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Spill.”
“We’re both seniors, and we’re friends,” I say. I don’t know why I said the last part, since I don’t think I need to convince myself.
“So you have an end date. That’d make things simpler, right?” Ian offers. “If you’re both on the same page, just don’t do anything to blur any lines…” He parts his mouth when he sees me smile and shift uncomfortably. “Bro. What did you do?”
“Don’t tell me you guys got married!” Jeremy says. “Without inviting anyone?”
I scoff. “Dude, we didn’t get married! Come on. I’m just going to spend Christmas break with him.”
It’s only then that it hits me—Jeremy fucking baited me.
“Isn’t he from China?” Jeremy deadpans. “Like, the country?”
He is, and I’m going there. To top it off, Canadians don’t need a visa—thank you, Dad. At least there’s something I can thank him for after all this time.
Ian’s smile grows wider. “Seriously? Aw, that’s so freaking sweet.”
God. Fuck Ian for being a supportive, hopeless romantic. Especially on my behalf. What I need is for one of these guys, or really just somebody, to tell me I’m making a terrible decision, but no.
I nod again. “He showed me his flight details, and I dropped sixteen hundred bucks to fly with him.”
Pricey, I know, but I don’t spend much—a lot of my scholarship’s living allowance goes straight to savings.
“Nick.” Ian’s voice is flat.
I don’t want to stick on the topic of how I’m a weird, clingy friend, so I try to make everyone uncomfortable for fun. “Hey, don't say my name. Dean does it a lot, and it's like a horny trigger now. Call it a Pavlovian response. Ruff ruff.”
The two of them groan. Mission accomplished.
“Jeez, Ni—dude. TMI,” Jeremy sputters. “We’re supposed to be giving you shit for meeting a guy’s parents when you aren’t even dating.”
Shoot. I spoke too soon. Sighing, I plop myself down at the dining table and fix my friends with a tired expression.
“Look, Dean and I are still friends despite…whatever else is going on between us, and I don’t like being alone.
If anything, this is your fault,” I joke, pointing at Ian.
“I used to spend breaks with you, before you got all partnered up.”
He puts his hands up. “Hey. I’ve always kept inviting you.”
“I’m not about to third-wheel you lovebirds.” And it’s the truth—even though Callum’s great for Ian, they’re still a couple, so for me to visit Ian’s parents with the two of them would be a lot of me sitting around while Callum gets to know his de facto in-laws. Not my idea of a fun time.
The energy in the room isn’t exactly tense, but I get the feeling Ian and Jeremy want to keep peppering me with questions, so I excuse myself to shower and change into my own clothes for the first time in over a week.
The two of them are playing a racing game on Jeremy’s console once I’m done, and I’m looking forward to relative normalcy when I sit down.
That’s when my phone decides to blow up. I don’t even know if it’s Dean who’s texting me, but the looks on Ian and Jeremy’s faces are identical and amused.
“Guys, come on,” I groan. “Why can’t you two let me live my life without questioning everything I do?”
“I think we’re just excited for you,” Ian replies. “You were smiling the whole time you were talking about Dean, and it’s super cute.”
Point taken—remember not to smile when talking about my friend with benefits.
“You know what?” Ian continues. “I think I need to meet him. Maybe I can do the same toxic bestie convo you gave to Callum when we first started dating.”
“Do not.” Snickering, I avoid his prying eyes and focus on my phone instead.
Sure enough, it was Dean who texted me, and it’s just a bunch of photos of a sock I left on the bathroom floor with a joking rant about how I’m a slob.
sniff it and maybe you’ll feel better
That’s fucking gross don’t say that
lmao
Then I pause. On one hand, asking Dean to come over, not two hours after I left his house, would be weird. Then again, if I start integrating him into my group of friends, that might solidify us being casual.
So I make the silent decision to go for it.
oh by the way my friends want to meet you
come over?
Lmfao
You’re allowed to say you miss me
I’ll be over in ten
wear something hot
Sounds good, I’ll show up wearing your clothes
DO NOT
I let Ian and Jeremy know the plans, choosing to ignore their stupid jokes about Dean being whipped already, and subtly fix my hair so I look presentable.
God, why am I concerned about looking presentable for him?
He knows what I look like right when I wake up, which is disheveled and at least a little repulsive.
But then again, we didn’t do anything this morning, and now that he’s coming over, my hopes are raised for a little privacy and a lot of fun later on.
Chuckling to myself, I shake my head and push those thoughts out of my mind, waiting impatiently for Dean to show up.
When there’s a knock on the door a few minutes later, I don’t get a chance to answer because Ian beats me to it. He leaps up to let Dean in, and I hold my breath.
Then I let it out because Ian’s keeping Dean in the entryway.
“Hey, you must be Dean,” he says, extending a hand. “I’m Ian.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Ian’s back is to me, but I can hear the smile through his tone. “Now before I let you in, I need to ask you some questions. First, what are your intentions with Nick—”
Dean scoffs. “You can’t be serious.”
“Nah, I’m not,” Ian relents, stepping aside to finally let Dean in. “It’s great meeting you, man.”
Now it’s Jeremy’s turn to say hi, and I heave myself up to do the same. I reach Dean right as he’s offered a drink, and something gives me a burning urge to kiss that cute fucking face smack dab on the lips.
No, he’s hot, not cute.
Cute is for guys I’d want to get mushy with and take on a date. Hot is for guys, or this guy, who turns me on, and who I manhandle and throw onto my bed in preparation for the kind of fun I’ve been trying to have for ages.
Never mind that the two aren’t mutually exclusive, or that I wouldn’t say no to taking Dean out if things were different.
Holding back, I give him a bro-hug instead, making sure to go extra hard with the back slaps, and lead him to the couch before I can drag him to my room. We say hi to each other, our eyes darting around the living room to confirm we’re alone.
Oh. Maybe he wants to kiss. I sure won’t say no—
He squeezes my ass instead, and I can’t find it in me to be disappointed.
“You’re so predictable,” I mutter.
He grins innocently. “And what about it?”
We’re leaning into each other, all close and intimate, so we straighten back up when we’re joined by the other two.
Thankfully, Ian and Jeremy behave themselves and don’t pepper poor Dean with questions, choosing instead to be friendly while slamming a couple of drinks in preparation for going out, despite us all having class tomorrow.
Whatever. It’s college.
“You two coming to join us?” a sloshed Ian says, stabilizing himself on the dining table. “Callum’s gonna meet us at The Barrel.”
“So it didn’t get shut down,” Dean says before looking at me.
“I think we’ll stay in,” I say.
Jeremy snickers, wiggling his eyebrows. “I thought so.”
“It’s Sunday,” I protest. “That’s not outlandish.”
“Whatever.” He yanks Ian toward the door by the collar. “We’re off. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”
Which leaves the possibilities wide open. The door shuts behind them, and working on autopilot, I march right over to Dean, who’s lazing on the couch.
He might miss having one of his own, but the couch is not where I want to be tonight.
Tilting his head up with my hands, I straddle his thighs, pressing my face close to his. Touching him, even when muted by the layers of fabric separating our bodies, is enough to pump me with arousal.
“And now I’ve finally got you alone,” I murmur.
“Are you desperate already?” Dean asks, fingers playing with the collar of my T-shirt. “There’s really no turning you off, is there?”
I shake my head. I got to know this guy a little, the lovely switch of attraction flicked on, and I have no intention of finding out if I can reverse it.
Out of patience, I bend down and kiss him, finally, and relish the familiar, addictive sensation of his tongue meshing against mine. Kissing’s always been fun, but when it’s with a guy I’m into? Oh man, it’s something else.
Gradually, I open my eyes as our pace slows, taking in the sight of Dean’s flushed cheeks. I stand up, pulling him along with me, and nod toward the bedroom.
He gets the idea, his face lighting up as he follows me in.
What happens next is unexpected and way too fucking hot.
Dean slams me into the door as soon as it closes behind me, one hand behind me to soften the impact, and the other pressing me back.
His mouth claims mine for another scorching, needy kiss, and I accept him with all the hunger I’ve been keeping down for the last twenty-four hours.
I don’t know who’s more desperate—me or him, and at this point, it doesn’t matter.
There’s enough strength left in me to push us off the door and over to my bed, and the two of us fall onto the mattress, laughing.
“Fuck, that was good,” he murmurs.
I cock my head and kiss him. Why use words when I can just…move things along?
We roll over, and without thinking, I grab Dean’s tentative hand and stick it into the waistband of my sweats. Thankfully, he gets the hint and digs deeper, sending a wave of sweet, sweet arousal through me, even though he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet.
The good part, which is sex. Only that. Because that’s separate from us being friends. Which we are, and which we’ll continue to be after graduation.
Because the thought of just…cutting off everything come April is too painful for me to contemplate with any level of sincerity.
Again, Dean’s my friend who I’m attracted to because he’s the right combo of chill, patient, and hot. He’s letting me experience attraction and the joys of having someone else wrapped around my dick.
Right, yeah—my pants are off and Dean’s jerking me off.
That’s what I should be concentrating on.
But Dean is also wrapped around my shoulders, holding me tight and letting me relax against his strong chest. His aroused breaths are loud and clear in my ear, and his lips are resting on the side of my head—it’s like he’s kissing me, and all that makes my heart flip like crazy.
It’s just the sex, I tell myself. I let out a quiet moan to prove a point to myself, and when Dean claps a hand over my mouth and strokes faster, I think I’m convinced.