Page 57 of My Brother’s Best Friends Entanglement

Craig, at the front of the room beside me, doesn't even try to hide it. He throws me a look that screams nice save. "I…agree!" he says, though, nodding slowly as if anything I’ve said makes the slightest of sense.

"That's certainly something we can discuss in the tutorial," Professor Yamada says, not sure what to make of my interruption.

Craig nudges me. "You owe me one."

The rest of the hour doesn't go much better. I nod at the right intervals and contribute exactly one coherent thought, but Craig covers for me so smoothly that by the time we file out, nobody suspects my head is still stuck on banana bread and Zachary's hands on my hips.

The door shuts behind the last student and Craig starts stacking chairs, the smirk on his face announcing that he’s about to ask all the questions he’s been discreet enough not to ask during the seminar.

“So," he says. “Warm?"

"What about it?”

He drops a chair onto the stack with a clatter. "You want to tell me what that was, or should I workshop some theories?"

"Nothing to tell." I gather my laptop, my notes, the marking I haven't started, and buy myself a few seconds pretending the zip on my bag is utterly fascinating. "Just tired. Long week."

"Right." He doesn't believe me, but he doesn't push either. "So, drinks? Saturday night? We've had enough coffee during the day. How about an actual, after-dark beverage?"

"Is this instead of Friday coffee?"

"It's…instead of, as well as, on top of…whatever."

I think about saying yes. I should emphatically, enthusiastically accept this smart, funny, charismatic man's invitation. Go out with him. Enjoy an uncomplicated drink and not worry the whole time about how this is the worst thing I could be doing.

"I'll think about it," I say, which is not a yes, but it's also not a no.

Craig grins like I've already said yes. "Progress." He slings his bag over one shoulder. "So, I see you’ve been working pretty closely with Rhys. What's the plan once the doctorate’s up? Staying, or is Adelaide just a layover?"

"Depends what comes up. There are a couple of things on the horizon. Nothing locked in."

"Hargreaves?" he says.

I school my face before I look up at him, not wanting to give too much away. You've heard about that?"

"Everyone's heard about it." His tone stays light, but his eyes betray real interest. "Pollack was on the advisory committee. He seems to think there are already some forerunners. Which is surprising, given we haven't put in our submissions."

If he's baiting me to find out whether I'm going for it, it's almost working. Almost.

"I'm not surprised, it's a popular role."

"Course not." He watches me a second too long before he lets it go. "Anyway." He straightens, easy again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

I did not see that coming, and it shows. I take a full second too long to answer, which is its own kind of answer.

"That's quite the pivot.”

"We're too busy for awkward segues."

"It's complicated," I say.

"Complicated's not a no."

"Complicated's complicated."

"I can work with complicated." He winks. "Saturday, then. We'll unpack complicated over a drink or three."

“I haven’t accepted your invite, Craig.”