This girl is crazy. I love it.
“They are,” I agree.
“Now, Blesk,” she says, sounding like my mother for a moment, her tone schooling. “You never told me he has a girlfriend.”
Fuck. Ugh.“Yeah, sort of.” I huff again. “He said it isn’t serious.” I smack my forehead with my palm. “I know, I know. I’m an idiot.”
“Not you are,” she pants again. A bike bell rings, and a man yells ‘look where you’re going.’ “Softy you are,” Elise finishes as if she isn’t causing a bike and pedestrian pile-up somewhere on campus. “Suck boys do.”
I chuckle. “You’re so weird.”
“I’ll be there soon. Order me something vegetarian.” She hangs up, and I leave it at my ear for a moment. Shocked.
Then I smile. Hard. I’m so glad I have Elise. I have a feeling she’s going to keep me sane—and also possibly a little insane but in the best way.
I sit for a moment in the quiet. The image of Pembie’s hand cupping Konnor’s dick through his jeans flashes behind my eyes, and I swallow it back down. He isn’t mine. He doesn’t owe me anything. I have absolutely no right to feel the ache currently sitting in the centre of my chest.
I feel it anyway.
Food might fix this.
Yep, just hungry.
I stand and approach the bar, peering into the kitchen for a server. While I wait, I recognise someone sat in another booth.Jaxon.
I am about to turn away—he isn’t my friend—when I notice the man beside him. Sandy-blond hair, and the ease of someone completely at home in any room he walks into.
Erik.
A memory of his bathroom flickers between static without warning. A zipper tearing open denim. A hand moving. I hear nothing.
I go still, warmth shifting through my chest, but also like it may stoke into flame. I may burn from the inside out. I tremble, wanting to run towards and away from him simultaneously. My feet won’t do either.
He spots me before I can decide. His hand rises to get my attention, a smile forming immediately—warm, certain, the smile that has always meant there you are. And he slides out of the booth and crosses the room towards me.
“Hey, you.” He pulls me into a hug. He smells like home. “I tried to call you like ten times this morning. Jax and I were grabbing food. Come sit with us.”
It isn’t a question exactly.
It never is.
Jaxon stands and walks over to us, greeting me with a wide grin. “B!”
I push out from Erik. “Hi.”
“You answered to B.” Jaxon laughs, patting my back in the same fashion he might a male friend. I like that.
The bartender slides over to us on the slippery floor.
Turning toward him, Jaxon pats my back again. “This is the mini-Bellamy, Shawn.”
“Is this guy bothering you?” Shawn chuckles.
“Which one?” I joke, then my stomach flips. “I mean, no, not at all.” I realise he was joking, but apparently I can’t just laugh it off like everyone else. I have to be literal. Answer. Answer wrong, then correct myself. Which one? Konnor? Erik? Or Jax?
Shawn smiles. “Well, hello, mini-Bellamy, what can I get for you this arvo?”
“It’s Blesk,” I say, because I’m not an extension of Erik—I’m not. “And can I please get a haloumi salad and a chicken Caesar? And two…” I hesitate. “Beers?”
