Page 157 of Arctic Titans of Northwood U: Volume 3

SETH

As easily as that, Damon was now part of everything in my life.

I’d caved in once, letting him take me out on a date from some chivalrous sense of duty he must have felt for me, and now I couldn’t drag myself out of these ridiculous ideas of a happy life together.

Nights turned to weeks. Leaves grew orange, red, and brown on the trees outside my window as I filled out pages upon pages of my notebooks with lab results, mindless scribbles that looked a little too much like heartsick sonnets, and various notes from my lectures. Then, one morning, I woke up alone in the room, glanced out, and realized that there was frost around the edges of my window and even more frost on the grass lawn. Leaves were falling quickly in the days before and after, the radiator worked most hours in the room, and the fall jackets went deeper into the closet, replaced by winter coats hanging by the door.

Damon visited me every week. Most weeks, he found a way to come around more than once. How he bribed Silas to tolerate this need for privacy wasn’t clear to me, but Silas assured me that he was compensated well. I knew that Damon had offered once, weeks ago, to introduce Silas to his eligible teammates, but Silas had only shrugged and said he’d done it himself already. Damon and I spent hours speculating which Arctic Titan was secretly hot for Silas.

“You’re with those guys all the time,” I’d said once. “You must have noticed something.”

Damon had shrugged. “Those guys date all the time. It’s hard to keep up.”

“You don’t think it’s one of the guys who are out, do you?” The idea alone made me a little sad. I liked to believe in eternal love and devotion, even if it only applied to others.

Damon sucked his teeth and shook his head. “No way. Griff and Andrei are inseparable. Phoenix and Jaxon have been together for years, and Phoenix still blushes a little when he talks about Jax. He’s too in love to be hooking up with your roommate.” Damon played with my hair, losing track of his thoughts. Then he circled back to it, minutes later. “My money’s on Mason. Or Keiran.”

“Keiran’s got a girlfriend,” I said.

Damon laughed. “Doesn’t mean anything. He’s too loud about his girlfriend while slapping our asses with a wet towel.”

“Is that what happens in locker rooms?” I asked.

“That is all that happens,” Damon said. “Didn’t you know?”

I kissed him, stopping the teasing.

From time to time, Damon proposed a little date. We’d gone back to the vegan place the second time, and then we’d gone to a cellar bar that boasted about their natural wines.

“The hell’s a natural wine?” I’d asked.

Damon had explained it in terms that didn’t do much to sell the idea. Like wine, but without any additives or modern technology. We’d gone anyway, curious more than hopeful. We were served the cellar’s finest sour slop and laughed about it all the way back to my room. “I once met a guy who makes these,” Damon had said. “Apparently, the highest compliment you can give to a natural wine is that it tastes just like the regular wine.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?” I asked.

“It very much defeats the purpose. It’s like making the same thing but with extra steps,” Damon said. “Oh, how can we complicate a well-established process?”

“Yes, yes, winemaking simply isn’t difficult enough. Let’s mess with it.”

“Why, I know,” Damon said, switching through fake accents faster than he had gone through his hookups last year. “Let’s take away all the useful parts and do it with old grapes.”

I laughed, pulling him closer and rising to my toes to kiss him. It was easy when we were inside. Outside, not quite. At least for me, there was this lingering question of why risk it. Why risk kissing him in public when this would never be worth the fight I’d have with Nick if he found out?

Well, that was not entirely correct. Almost all of my body and soul screamed that this was worth it. Some sliver of my rational mind prevailed, though, and I was grateful for it. I was still reasonable enough to know that I wasn’t going to be Damon’s forever.

If I fluttered through Damon’s life like a butterfly, and he showed me the devotion and interest as he did, then I would know I’d gotten the most I ever could.

Occasionally, as the frost on my window became more common than now, Damon and I carefully leaned into conversation topics that we both knew led us nowhere. Even so, for the giggles, we wondered aloud why we’d let a year go by without checking in with each other.

“Timing. Geography. Divine intervention. Take your pick,” he’d said once.

It was a clear, crisp reply to a stupid question. Yet when some days had passed, Damon asked me the same. I shrugged. “We always knew,” I said. “You don’t do mornings after, and I don’t do delusions.”

“Division of labor for the win,” Damon said, kissing me quickly to stop the conversation.

That, too, became a common theme through our nights together and our secret dates.

I didn’t mean to see him again so soon.