Page 41 of The Equation of Us
“Dude,” Gavin says the moment she’s out of earshot. “That was cold.”
I shrug. “Better than leading her on.”
“Who says you’d be leading her on? She’s cute. Pre-med. Probably great with her hands.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I roll my eyes. “Not interested.”
“In her specifically, or in dating generally?”
“Both.”
Gavin studies me for a moment, then leans forward, lowering his voice. “Hold up. Is there someone else? You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”
My stomach tightens. Gavin’s known me too long not to pick up on shifts in my behavior. “No.”
“Bullshit.” He grins, victorious. “You have! That’s why you’re distracted all the time. That’s why you turned down Ava without even considering it.” His eyes widen with a new thought. “Is it someone Daphne knows? Is that why you’re being so secretive?”
He’s too close to the truth. I need to shut this down before he guesses more.
“There’s no one,” I say firmly. “I’m focused on hockey and the Archer Initiative. That’s it.”
He looks skeptical. “You’re a terrible liar, Carter.”
“And you’re delusional.” I check the time on my phone—1:47. I have a class at 2:00, then practice, then a lab meeting with Whitman. After that, finally, Nora.
The anticipation has been building all day, a low hum beneath my skin that makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. I’ve been thinking about what I want to do with her tonight. How I want to push her a little further, take her a little deeper into surrender. See how far I can push.
“There it is again,” Gavin says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “That look. You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?”
“I’m thinking about biometrics,” I counter, gathering my empty container. “And how I’m going to be late for Mechanical Systems if you don’t drop this.”
He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Keep your secrets. But just know—” he points at me with what remains of his garlic bread “—I will figure it out eventually.”
“There’s nothing to figure out.” I stand, shouldering my bag. “See you at practice.”
As I head out of the dining hall, I pull out my phone and text Nora:
Still on for tonight?
Her response comes quickly:
Yes. 9 p.m.
Then, a moment later:
Looking forward to it.
Those three simple words shouldn’t affect me the way they do. We’ve established boundaries. Keep it physical. No emotional entanglement. No complications.
But something about the small admission—that she’s thinking about tonight too, anticipating it the way I am—sends a surge of satisfaction through me.
I pocket my phone and head toward my next class, a slight smile playing at the corner of my mouth. Six hours until Nora.
Six hours until I can stop pretending I’m thinking about anything else.
Chapter Fourteen
Variables and Constants
