“I’ll have to resist harder next time, that sounds fun,” I respond automatically, but then I realize how flirty I sounded. Shit.
“Restraints usually are,” Will taunts back, and my cheeks heat at the implication.
Luckily I’m saved from having to figure out an appropriate response by us arriving at the deli. Will holds the door open for me with a smile, orders for us—somehow remembering my order from weeks ago—pays, and even gets my drink from the fountain while I find a table.
Fuck, why is he always so nice? He’s dangerously close to making this totally innocent lunch feel like a date. I don’t need someone who’s not even into men setting the bar this high. How is anyone I actually go on a date with supposed to live up to his high standard?
Do not fall for him, do not do it,I repeat to myself over and over again as his whole face lights up as he takes his seat as if sitting across from me in this deli is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him.
I will not make that mistake again.
I am gay.
He is straight.
This is not a challenge.
I cannot do anything to make him be attracted to me. That’s not how sexuality works.
Robbie taught me the way someone labels themself is important. I won’t read into things this time. I should’ve listened to Robbie when he told me he was straight, and I should listen now to Will.
Hoping for anything else is a bad idea all around, and my brain needs to catch the fuck up with acknowledging that.
Even if he did dance with me on my birthday in a crowded bar and made sure I got home okay with Taco Bell. Even if he does buy me things and bring me coffee. Even if he has my schedule memorized and tries to figure out ways to fit in time with me.
None of those things matter because he’s not attracted to me.
He’s just a kind, responsible, emotionally functional man who doesn’t suck, and my brain is short-circuiting because the bar for everyone else has been on the floor. Maybe below the floor.
Our number is called, and Will grabs our food. He gives me my sandwich first.
“Thanks. And thanks for doing this, you didn’t need to buy me lunch. Once again.”
“Every time you tell me I don’t need to buy you something, it makes me want to buy you three more things.”
I snort a laugh. “What, you don’t want me to thank you?”
“Oh, you can thank me, I quite enjoy that part actually.”
“Of course you do.” I laugh.
“But just know, I’ve got a lot planned for us, so whenever you’re free, we’re going to be pretty busy,” he adds, completely serious even though he’s beaming at me.
I laugh again. “Aren’t you a full-time student and an athlete? You know I have a job, so when do you think we’ll have time for all these plans?”
“Hmm,” he hums with a smirk. “I’m guessing you’d like to keep your job?”
“Yes, I’d like to be able to afford my rent and groceries.”
“Would me paying for those be frowned upon?”
“Oh my god, are you suddenly a sugar daddy or something? What is happening right now?”
“I’m just brainstorming!” Will insists. “You’re the one who brought up scheduling concerns.”
“What about lacrosse? You could just quit that,” I tease.
“Or you could come to my games,” he counters.
