Page 34 of Nine-Tenths
"Iwantto be here. Colin, I—"
It's a dick move, but I turn on the machine before he can make another excuse or tell me another lie. He clearlydoesn't. Or at least, he doesn't want to be aroundmeanymore. That much is obvious by the upright way he holds himself (the stiff way he used to be, before he let me doze on his shoulder in the hospital waiting room as he read me a love story), the way his nostrils keep flaring as if I'm something disgusting, the way he keeps the table between us.
My homophobic student rez roommate in first year did the same.
Okay, fine; so Dav isn't the only one who's upset, alright?
"You need me," Dav says, as soon as the noise from the grinder isn't jamming up my hearing. I scoop grounds into a glass jar. My hands are shaking. I spill a little hill of coffee on the worktop.
"We don't, actually," I say, and it'smean, but I can't stop myself. My brain is outside my body watching my mouth move and willing it to stop, but it's not. "It'sunseemly, anyway."
"Colin—"
I turn to face him so fast I scatter the hill of grounds in an arc across the floor.
"What was it?" I snap. "What's pissed you off so much you won't even talk to me?"
"Iamtalking to you," Dav says darkly.
"What I said, it was ajoke."
"Was it?" Dav asks, but it's not a question. It's more like a challenge. "And do you often proposition your colleagues? Profess your love over sloppily made lattes?"
"Yes!" I say. "As a joke."
"So it was meaningless, your confession?"
"Yes!" I throw my hands up, and wince when my right bicep burns.
Dav steps around the table, hands flexing, fingers opening and closing.
Steeling himself.
"What if I don't want it to be?"
I think I'm getting whiplash.
"What?" I ask.
He stops so close I could count the flecks of deep orange in his irises.
"What if I don't want it to be a joke?" Dav asks, leaning in, voice rich with that draconic rumble.
Holy shit, is he about to kiss me?
I can't help it, I lick my lips, drop my eyes down to his, wonder if they're as fussily cared for as his hair, his manicures, his waxed eyebrows. Does he sugar-scrub his lips? Will he taste sweet?
"Colin!" he growls when I haven't answered. "Tell me. What if I don't want it to be a joke?"
"Uh… um…" I say, oh, so cleverly, and lick my lips again. My mouth is suddenly so dry my throat clicks.
Is this happening?
I think it's happening.
Oh,shit, this is happening. "Dav, I…" Fuck it. You know what?Fuck it.Screw Hadi's rules. I don't even care if I regret it. I will regret it more if Idon'ttake a shot at it. So I stretch up my neck, aim for his—
Dav takes my hand.
