“We should get a dog. Me, you, and Desmond,” he adds casually, as though including me in his family unit isn’t a big deal. As though he already thinks of me that way. A buzz of pleasure fizzes through my veins, comfortably warm, anxiety trailing after, right on its heels. I’m not part of this family; not part of any decisions about buying a dog.
I avoid answering by pretending to be enamored with the warm-ups. Nate skates by again, tossing one of the pucks up over the glass to Parker. He catches it, and looks happier thanI would have expected from someone who isn’t particularly interested in the sport.
“Awesome,” he says, tucking it into his hoodie pocket.
Desmond immediately looks over at us when he walks from the chute and takes his place behind the bench. The wink he sends our direction makes me curl my toes in my shoes, body warm, and fingers itching to touch him. He always looks sogoodin his game-day clothes—fabric smooth and silky, hugging his slender frame. I mean, he always looks good, no matter what he’s wearing, but something about the dress clothes does it for me. I want to watch him take them off. Pop open the buttons down his chest, one at a time, and see skin as it comes into view.
The game is fun, even for Parker, if the number of times he jumps to his feet and cheers is any indication. He doesn’t seem to have much interest in who’s winning the game, but loves it when someone crashes into the wall, shaking the glass. He also, I notice, spends a lot of time watching Desmond. Face turned away from me, eyelashes flickering as his eyes move to track his uncle. Every time Desmond looks over, Parker turns back to the game swiftly, the pair of them playing a game of visual tag. It makes me smile, feeling incredibly fond of the both of them, and happy that I’m lucky enough to be a part of it. A part of the family, even obliquely.
We stay seated through the end of the game, watching until every player has left the ice. Parker is yawning as we slowly follow the crowds exiting the arena, face turned away from me as though trying to hide it, arms tucked into his hoodie pocket.
“Can I see your house?” he asks once we get outside, glancing around at the dark campus.
“Oh, I just live in a dorm,” I correct. He peers up at me,eyebrows raised. “Uhm…I mean, yeah, I can show you? Desmond said he’ll be a little?—”
“Okay, let’s go,” he interrupts.
Sighing, I lead him off down the path to our left. He looks around eagerly, getting more excitement out of the adventure than I would have expected. Charmed, I point out different buildings as we go, biting back a laugh whenever he responds with a softwow. He’s going to be so disappointed when he sees my “house.”
I check my phone as we walk, but Desmond hasn’t texted yet. Not surprising, as there’s usually a fair bit of work still to be done right after the game. He’d told me that I could just sit outside with Parker, and wait for him. Neither of us had mentioned my dorm, and honestly, it hadn’t even crossed my mind as an option. Why would anyone want to see my dorm room? I send him a quick message, asking for belated permission.
I feel like I know that Desmond will be okay with Parker coming with me to the dorms, but I’m also built to worry, so part of me wonders if what I’m doing right now is kidnapping. We get all the way to my building before he replies, my shoulders losing their tension immediately.
Desmond
Of course, no drama. Tell him not to mess with your things, though. Kids are nosy. He’ll touch everything.
Jack
It’s okay. I don’t have things he could break, just books. We’ll be quick!
Desmond
Take your time. I’ll probably be a little bit.
You should come back home with me and Parker. There’s no game tomorrow, so we’re going to the aquarium. There’s a ticket for you if you want it.
Needing to pay attention to where I’m walking now, I put my phone away and lead Parker up the stairs. I want to re-read that conversation, because it feels like Desmond was asking me to spend the night at their place. Which I would assume means I’d be spending the night withhim.
My skin burns all the way down to my toes. Do I want to sleep with him? Yes, but also no. Hugging is one thing; kissing on the cheek is another; sleeping in the same bed is not even in the same universe. God, I probably snore like a grizzly bear, but I don’t know it because none of my teammates ever told me when we shared a hotel room. Knowing Desmond like I do, I doubt he’s asking me over to have sex. But maybe he’d want to kiss me, or snuggle with me, and there is a pretty good chance of me doing something that ruins both of those activities. What if he kisses me and I don’t like it? I definitely didn’t like it when Christopher tried.
Feeling a little sick with tension, I shake out my hands, buzzing with energy. Parker, perfectly at ease, waits impatiently as I try to get my fingers to cooperate enough to open my door, bouncing up and down on his toes. The moment I push the door open, he peeks his head around the corner and slips inside.
“Where’s the light?” he asks, seconds before locating the switch and flicking it on.
He stands in the middle of the room, head swiveling around like an owl, and I feel like I’m about to have another reason to be embarrassed. There’s nothing but a bed and adesk, both of which were provided by the school. I don’t have posters or anything hanging on the walls. In fact, the only interesting bits in the room are the stacks of paperbacks sitting on the floor next to my bed. Parker walks over and sits down, bouncing slightly and making the mattress creak, running his palm over the ratty bedspread I bought secondhand at the thrift store. There are three holes in that comforter, and right now I’m having a hard time seeing anything else.
“Uhm, it’s not exciting. Dorms are usually pretty…boring,” I finish awkwardly, trying to come to my own defense.
“You have a nice view!” he tells me, pointing out the window. I do have a nice view—the clocktower, lit up in the dark, sits directly north of the building. It’s a beautiful sandstone structure, with stone ornamentation and a peaked roof. It looks like it belongs in Prague, not South Carolina.
“Yeah, it’s even better during the day,” I tell him.
“You get to live here alone?” he asks. I nod. “Wow, that’s cool. Maybe I’ll get to live in a dorm one day.”
I laugh, relaxing just slightly. “Yeah, maybe. What would you go to school for?”
“Video games,” he says immediately, making me grin. I should have expected that answer. “Like…making them.”
