I’m about to respond when I realize that I am single, but not available.Shit.
Okay, calm down, Emma. Just tell him the truth without mentioning names.
“I technically am, but… It’s complicated.” It’s not a lie.
Ben clicks his tongue. “I knew I should’ve asked you out sooner. I was worried it might make you uncomfortable since we work together.”
Letting out a sigh at this nice man’s logical thinking, I nod. “If it’s any consolation, Ben, I probably would’ve said yes last semester.” Somebody like Ben deserves someone just as nice, if not nicer than him. He’s sweet, respectful, talented, and good-looking. “However, I think there’s someone else at the paper who’s had their eye on you for a while now.”
His brow furrows. “Who?”
Searching the room to see if he’s here, I find him sitting at the desk he uses twice a week, motioning my head in his direction. “Eric, aka the guy who’s always staring at you when you’re not looking.”
He squints. “The part-time sportswriter?”
Nodding, I smile. “The very hot part-time sportswriter.” Eric is a good-looking guy—tall, muscular, blond, and on the basketball team when he’s not in the newsroom. “I’ve heard that you swing both ways?” His lip quirks up, and he narrows his eyes. “People at the paper like to gossip, and I just happened to overhear a conversation or two.” I can’t help my nosiness.
Ben smirks. “Yeah, I do.” He glances at Eric again. “I haven’t been with a guy in a while. Then again, I’ve been gathering up the courage to ask you out all semester.”
I frown at his confession. “I’m sorry, Ben.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault you’re—” He pauses. “Is your relationship status ‘it’s complicated’? Because it shouldn’t be. Whoever you’re with now should lock you down before you slip through their damn fingers.”
My cheeks heat. “It is complicated, but I’m not unhappy about it. It’s hard to explain, and I’m not one to talk about my personal life with anyone.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I totally understand.” Ben leans over. “Sooo, Eric, huh?”
A grin spreads across my face. “Eric,” I confirm.
“And you’re sure?”
I contemplate his question. “My spidey senses—and the gossip I’ve overheard—say yes, but to be safe I’ll say ninety-nine percent sure.”
He sighs. “Good enough for me. I’ll get on that ASAP.” Ben places a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for letting me know, andthanks for being honest.” Ben makes his way to Amelia’s desk, where she has her back turned to me.
My phone buzzes in my hand again, and I roll my eyes before lifting it to face level.
G: Tick. Tock.
Me: I’m coming, jeez.
He sends me an annoyed emoji, and I smile to myself as I pick up my purse and turn off my computer. I wonder why Grayson’s waiting for me two parking lots away. Not that the distance doesn’t make sense, but why today? We didn’t have any plans this week, and I just assumed we’d wing it after seeing each other in his class like we usually do with these sex encounters.
When I reach the parking lot behind the English lit building, I have a realization.
We haven’t had sex yet.
Is he taking me to his house to do it? My hands grow clammy. It’s a good thing I shaved this morning because I’m not wearing any stockings.
Is this really it? Nerves churn in my stomach as I get closer and closer to the parking lot behind The Howler. The Howler closes early every day, and by early, I mean at six p.m., which, by college standards, is extremely early. That’s why I rarely get to eat there. They have some of the best salads and sandwiches on campus; it’s a real disappointment.
Speaking of which, I was hungry…before Grayson texted me. Frowning, I think about the pizza I was going to order.
“Damn.” Although, sex with the professor may fix all of that, maybe. If I say yes. What am I thinking? Of course I’ll say yes.
His car comes into view, and as if he senses my presence, his head swivels toward me, and a smile spreads across his handsome face. Even through the parking lot lights and slightly tinted windows, the shape of his light-brown-colored hair is visible, and it looks perfect. His glasses are still on—I’m guessing they’reon because of me—and instead of a button-down shirt, he’s wearing a dark green knitted sweater.
The image of the sweater alone turns me on. Ever since my friends and I saw the movieKnives Out, we grew to appreciate knitted sweaters because of Chris Evans—and this man isjustas handsome as Chris motherfucking Evans.
