The muscles of his forearm flex as he works himself over and his shirt rides up, a little patch of flesh is visible in between two valleys that form a vee. My mind tries to patch together all the glimpses of his body I’ve had so far to form a picture of him naked.
I’m headed for a dangerous place, so I focus back on the task at hand. On reading from this book he picked out.
I keep reading, trying to keep a steady pace as the bed starts to shift under me. His pace quickens and his arm and shoulder make the bed dip and rise in sync with him. Several moments pass by, and I have trouble concentrating on forming the words because I’d rather listen to the sounds he’s making. His breathing’s unsteady, and finally shudders as he rolls his hips in one last thrust up and into his hand.
I close the book and feel like I should make myself scarce, except we’re in my room and I have nowhere to run off to.
He blows out a long breath, and then in one fluid motion pulls his boxer briefs back up and smooths his shirt down. He scrubs his hand over his face and sits up on the edge of the bed, not looking at me, and I stay still. I have a million things I want to say, and none at all.
“Let me get cleaned up, and then I can come back. If you want?”
“Yes,” I answer him immediately.
He does the same as the night before. Disappearing for a bit, and then coming back to lay down next to me, passing out to the low buzz of the TV in the background.
* * *
“All right.I’m tired of waiting for you to bring it up. So spill it,” Joss says to me as we sit outside our favorite cafe just off campus.
“Spill what?”
“Is his body as perfect underneath all the gym clothes as I think it is?”
I know immediately who she’s talking about, and a shirtless image comes unbidden into my mind. I’ve barely been able to stop thinking about him.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You realize that I don’t just stay locked in my room from 9 to 9 every night, right? I come out, I get a glass of water, I grab a book I forgot, and I know you’re both locked away in your room. I’ve even seen him coming out early in the morning.”
“We watch TV sometimes together.” I shrug.
“Uh huh. Do these TV shows involve porn because you’re blushing, and I don’t think you’d be blushing if the two of you were in there just watching old Law and Order reruns.”
I take a sip of my coffee, and glance out the window.
“You hussy. Are you watching porn with him? How is that happening, and you haven’t seen him naked? I need this explained.”
“We’re not watching porn… so much as… I don’t know, Joss. I can’t tell you anything really because I don’t know.”
“You’re killing me.”
“Sorry. If it helps, I’m killing myself a little too.”
“Why? And do not tell me it’s because of Cameron. That fucker is out there fucking who knows what, who knows where. He gave you the green light to do the same. Not that he gets to decide, but if you cared.”
“Ben isn’t some random stranger I met on a research trip.”
“No, he’s a live-in pool boy with the body and dimples to match who very obviously wishes you would take advantage of him.”
“He does not.”
“Friend. Bestie. Beloved. I have seen how he looks at you. He doesn’t look at you like a roommate or a stand-in sister. He looks at you like a lovesick boy, who would happily rail you to your heart’s content if you would just give him any sign at all you wanted it.”
“Boy is right. He’s 22. He’s an undergrad. The same age as some of our students in class. He should be fucking sorority girls and coeds who haven’t decided what they want to major in yet. Practice for when he gets all the models and cheerleaders in the NFL. Not scorned spinsters who are two years deep in an Art History PhD they can’t see the end of.”
“So he’s told you he’s interested in you.”
“Not in so many words.”
