“You know your stuff.”
I wince. “I’m sorry. I’m geeking out, and I don’t even swim.”
“No, but Casey does. It’s great that you know enough to be able to support him. You’re going to have to tell me when to clap and cheer.”
“I will, although it will be obvious.”
“Swimming competition virgin here. Don’t expect anything to be obvious.”
“Fair enough.”
“What stroke does Casey swim in the relays?”
“Freestyle.”
“Is that all he does?”
“It’s what he’s best at, but he’s pretty fast at butterfly.” I splay my hands on the table. “And that’s the extent of my swimming knowledge.”
“Well, thank you. I feel educated now.”
“Is that code for bored?”
“I could never be bored listening to you, except when it comes to pharmacology. No one could make that interesting. Or sexy. Sorry. I’m terrible at not flirting with you. You’re too cute.”
I’m getting used to him calling me cute. My face is getting hot again. I can’t stop blushing around him unless we’re talking about mundane things like pharmacology and swimming. Even then, there’s no guarantee my body won’t threaten to combust with need.
He taps his temple. “How’s the sorting your head out thing going?”
I sigh and glance out the train window. “It would be easier if I didn’t keep dreaming about you and Casey.” Shit. Did I say that out loud?
Auggie smirks.
I clap my hands over my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I squeak.
“Don’t be. I don’t mind.”
“It was embarrassing.” I tug my collar up and sink down in my seat. I’m so glad we’re the only people in this carriage.
“What would make sorting your head out easier?” Auggie asks.
“If Casey would talk to me. He sort of did during the week. He said he needed time and space to think, and then we’d talk.”
“And you said—?”
“I’ll be there for him whenever he’s ready.”
“Good answer.”
I fold my hands on top of each other on the table. “I kissed him. On Sunday, after you’d gone. It was a peck on the lips. Nothing more. He freaked out and fled the flat. I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable. I wanted to show him how I felt.”
“He knows that.”
“I think he might be questioning his sexuality. He’s never dated, so as you said, he might not have figured out whether he’s straight, gay, bi, or pan. I don’t get why he doesn’t feel able to talk to me. I went through a questioning phase before I knew for sure that I was gay. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to jump his bones if he tells me he might be into guys. I wouldn’t know what to do anyway.”
“I think it’s enough for him to know he can talk to you when he’s ready to.”
“I hope so.”
