“Trivia night.” My voice came out relatively normal. Small victory. “It’s a thing.”
“I can see that.” He glanced at the others, and I forced myself to remember how social interactions worked.
“Seth, this is Priya, Jake, and Dev. Guys, this is Seth. My roommate.”
“The elusive roommate,” Priya said, and I contemplated the logistics of kicking her under the table without anyone noticing. “Tanner’s mentioned you.”
“Only in the context of eggs,” I said quickly. “And other normal roommate things.”
Seth’s mouth twitched. “Good to know I’m memorable for my cooking.”
“You should sit,” Priya offered, already scooting over to make room. “We’re about to start another round.”
Seth glanced back toward his teammates. Marcus was gesturing toward an empty high-top near the bar, mouthing something I couldn’t make out. Seth raised a hand—one second—then turned back to us.
“I don’t want to intrude?—”
“You’re not intruding.” Jake was already flagging down a server. “Any friend of Tanner’s, et cetera. What are you drinking?”
Seth hesitated, weight shifting like he was about to decline. His phone buzzed. He pulled it out, read something, and his jaw tightened slightly. When he looked up, his eyes found mine.
“Just a beer. Whatever’s on tap.” He glanced back toward his teammates. “I can stay for a few minutes, but I should get back to my friends.”
He slid into the booth beside me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne—something clean and woodsy that I’d started associating with the apartment feeling less empty. He set his phone face down on the table, but I caught another buzz, the screen lighting up briefly even though he ignored it.
I watched Seth get absorbed into the group, answering questions about his major and his position and how he’d ended up rooming with me. He was good at this—the easy charm, the way he made people feel comfortable. I’d noticed it before, the way he could talk to anyone about anything, filling silences I would have let stretch into awkwardness.
But his phone kept buzzing. Three more times in as many minutes. Each time, he’d glance at it, then deliberately redirect his attention to whoever was talking. His shoulders stayed angled toward me, even when Dev asked him about the team’s odds of a bowl game bid.
We were opposites in that way. He took up space naturally, while I spent most of my life trying to take up less.
The next round started. Seth leaned over to look at our answer sheet, his shoulder brushing mine. His phone lit up again on the table between us. I caught a glimpse of the name:Marcus.
Seth’s hand moved toward it, then stopped. He left it buzzing.
I forgot the question the host had just asked.
“You okay?” he murmured, low enough that the others couldn’t hear.
“Fine.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Tanner.” Just my name, but the way he said it made my chest tight. “We should talk.”
“Not here.”
He was quiet for a moment, his jaw working like he was choosing his words carefully. Then he nodded, the movement tight. “Yeah. Okay.”
His phone buzzed again. This time, he picked it up, read whatever Marcus had sent, and stood. “I should get back to my friends anyway.”
“Seth—”
“It’s fine.” His voice was even, but something in his expression wasn’t. “We’ll talk later. When you’re ready.”
He squeezed my shoulder once—brief, warm—then made his way back through the crowd to where Marcus and the others were waiting. I watched him slide into the booth with his teammates, watched one of them say something that made him laugh, watched him pick up a menu like nothing had happened.
