“I’d like that.”
“We’ll go at your pace. Will you tell me if something doesn’t feel right or if we’re going too fast?”
“Yes. You know you don’t have to leave when Casey gets home.”
“I know, but I tagged along this morning. You two should have some alone time.”
“Okay.”
I’m guessing that Emory is hoping our vee not only lasts but turns into a triad at some point in the future. The future. Fucking hell. What is wrong with me? I’m a one-night-stand kind of guy, yet here I am, spending hours on end with an adorable nerd while also lusting after his fit, swimmer best friend. No. Not best friend. Well, yes, best friend. They will always be best friends. But as of last night, they’re boyfriends, and so are Emory and I. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. That’s a first for all of us. It’s weird and right, and I’m going with it, even if my brain does stutter over it every so often, like now.
“Casey is a great guy.”
“He is.” Emory smiles. “I should go to the library and get some work done.”
I pout. “But we were kissing.”
“You could come with me.”
I curl my top lip.
He laughs. “No need to look so disgusted at the idea. Have you told your dad how much you hate your degree?”
I look away. “He knows I do. He doesn’t care. He should probably adopt you and make you his heir. You’d make him prouder than I ever could.”
“Auggie.”
“It’s true. In his eyes, I’m nothing but a deadbeat loser. But he can think whatever he likes about me. It’s my life, and I’ll live it my way.”
Big words, except they’re not entirely true. I have to complete this degree, or I’ll be left with nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to spend every waking second studying. Emory might enjoy it, but I don’t.
“You go study. I’ll see you later.”
“In our lab session?”
I sigh. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
* * *
We go to Emory and Casey’s flat straight after our lab session, which is too late to catch Casey before swimming practice. I cook us spaghetti bolognese, which Emory practically has an orgasm over. The way he moans as he tries it is adorable and not unlike the reaction Casey had to my cooking last night. If the way to these men’s hearts is through their stomachs, I’ll gladly cook for them whenever they want.
We wash up together. I scoop bubbles onto my fingers and boop Emory’s nose with them.
“Hey, what was that for?” he asks.
“You look cute with bubbles on your nose.” So cute I have to kiss him. I end up with bubbles on my nose.
He points and laughs. I gather more bubbles in my hand and fling them at him. Bubbles float through the air between us and pop on our clothes.
“Do you always mess around while washing up?” Emory asks.
“I don’t normally have anyone to mess about with.”
“What makes me so lucky?”
“You’re you.” I put my fingers through his belt loops and pull him to me for a deep, searing kiss.
I’ve never wanted to behave like this with anyone. What makes Emory so different?
