Chapter Seven
Then — Before
“Sushi tonight?” Ward asks with more than a little hope in his tone.
I look up from my desk to find him standing there, staring at me and reminding me of an eager puppy.
That’s not too far off the mark. We’re starting week five of classes, and it feels like I have a pet roommate.
An adorably sweet, innocent, sexy as hell pet roommate.
Who, while making what I think were a couple of G-rated passes at me, hasn’t yet clearly signalled that he’s as into me as I am him.
No, I’m not a douchebag who’s going to hit on him and make him feel uncomfortable. Not when I know I have a lot more experience than he does in many ways.
Which is another factor—he’s a fricking closeted virgin.
I am not onlynota virgin, and not in the closet regarding my orientation, but I’m a sadist, too.
I mean, how doesthatpermutation even hope to successfully work long-term?
Sitting back, I rub my eyes. “Sushi’s not in my budget tonight, buddy. I’m sorry.”
“But I’m buying.” He almost looks like his feelings are hurt.
He’s taken me out at least twice a week so far, in addition to buying things like coffee for our room, and bringing me desserts.
It’s adorable and sweet, and in any other circumstance I would assume he’s into me, but I don’t want to press my luck. “I can’t mooch off you all year, Ward.”
“You’re not mooching. I’m offering.”
“But I can’t reciprocate, and you buy me stuff all the time.”
“I don’t need you to reciprocate. Iwantto buy you dinner and coffee and other stuff.”
I guess I should be glad he’s not a douchebag who lords his money over me. He’s attended church with me the three times I’ve gone since the semester started. I’ve been going to the Methodist church because it’s close and it seems like a slam-dunk way to show Ward religion doesn’t have to be toxic. In another month or so, I might take him to another denomination. That’s so he can see how different it also is from his home church, yet how kind it can be, like this one. That other churches have far more in common with a gentler Christianity based in love and grace, rather than the fire-and-brimstone cruelty of what he was raised in.
Although I didn’t go last weekend because I wanted to sleep in before studying. He opted to stay in, too.
Yes, I noticed that.
“You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had,” he quietly adds, stepping closer. “I trust you. I know you’re not being nice to me just because my parents have money. You care about me and don’t judge me. You’re not…fake. And I’m finally starting to see the good side of Christianity. I honestly thought I’d have to go through the rest of my life pretending to be a Christian and faking it just to get along, but not reallyfeelingit.”
We’ve had talks about me being gay and how that intersects with my religious beliefs. Every time we do, he takes a couple of days to digest what we discussed and do research for himself before returning with more questions for me. He still hasn’t revealed much about himself in that regard.
I feel bad for the guy because he’s an only child and because his parents are dicks.
Reminds me how lucky I had it growing up, even if my parents weren’t rich. I had a loving family, acceptance, and never had to hide who I am. Sam and I might be dicks to each other on occasion, but we’re brothers and love each other. If someone fucks with one of us, it calls down the wrath of the other one without question or even an explanation needed as to why.
All of these things combined together are what make me close my book and push my chair back from my desk. “Okay, we’ll go get sushi.” Besides, I know he hates eating by himself. He’ll grab a meal in the dining hall on the rare chance I’m not available, but he hates going to restaurants by himself. So I can’t just tell him to go have sushi by himself.
The brilliant, beaming smile that earns me nearly stops my heart. “Thanks!”
He’s adorable. He really is.
On Earth B, I’ve already fucked him to the moon and back and we’re halfway to planning a life together. I imagine what our shared law office will look like, and try to figure out what order to put our names on our wedding certificate and the sign over our office door.
I hit the bathroom, grab a windbreaker, and we head out. He’d never had sushi before meeting me. I love sushi, but one of my mom’s friends owned a sushi restaurant. I worked part-time washing dishes and was able to get a lot for free or discounted. We never could have afforded it any other way.
