And it’s not because she isn’t absolutely beautiful and funny and smart—she’s all those things. But one thing she isn’t—and that’s Jasper.
The man has me in a chokehold. He’s all I want, and all I think about every single second of the day. It’s bordering on an obsession, one I don’t want to heal from.
I am actually fighting for my life right now, trying like hell not to check my phone that’s resting in my pocket for a message from him, but I remain in the moment. “I thought we were just study partners?” I say, my brows knitted together in a playful manner.
Her pretty eyes, framed in liner and mascara, roll, and her full and lightly painted lips turn up in an even flirtier smile. I should be jumping at the chance to be with her. But nothing.
I feel nothing but friendship.
“We can do both.”
I don’t know why I say it—okay, I do, but I still can’t believe it comes out of my mouth—when I say, “I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much.”
Her mouth falls open, only slightly before she catches herself, and she laughs semi-awkwardly. “Oh my God. I’ve been flirting with you for weeks. Why didn’t you tell me you’re gay?”
I don’t even bother correcting her on the whole label thing because it doesn’t matter right now. “Sorry,” I say instead.
She pouts, but it’s playful. “Well, that’s okay. So boyfriend, huh? Is he hot?” Her eyebrows wiggle, and I laugh.
“You have no idea.”
Her eyes light up with delight, and then I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket and nearly drop the damn thing in my excitement, trying to get to it. She’s watching me, but I don’t care.
Jasper is calling me.
“I gotta go.”
“The boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” I nod as I gather my things and hit answer. “Hey, you.”
I barely hear Amber sigh and say something about someday wanting that with someone because I’m already grinning, my phone against my ear as his warm voice floods through me. “Hey. You busy?”
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the exit. “Nope. What are you up to?”
“You said you wanted me to call you sometime today.” I can hear his warm smile, and it makes my desire to see him grow even more.
“I did,” I say with a lazy grin, walking back to my dorm. “My mom invited me to Thanksgiving at home.”
“Oh?” he asks, sounding intrigued.
“Yeah. But so did Kelly.”
“Oh yeah?” He sounds much happier at that prospect, and it makes my heart squeeze with anticipation, and inconveniently—since I’m surrounded by people on campus—my dick twitch in my jeans. Goddamn, I miss him.
“Yeah, and I think I’m going to do that. Wondering if you have a place I can stay?”
“You know I do.” His voice is rumbly and sexy as hell, making the situation in my pants even more inconvenient.
“Okay. I’ll book the flight. I wish I could stay longer, but I have a test on Wednesday afternoon, so I’ll have to find a flight out on Thanksgiving morning and leave Saturday.”
“I’ll take all the time I can get with you.”
See, how can he say things like that to me? That’s why it was so easy for me to call him my boyfriend. I haven’t dared ask him if he’s seeing anyone, but I haven’t really had to. We talk as often as we can. Sometimes getting off with each other just talking or sometimes video calling.
It always has to be quick because I never know when my roommate will be back, and that would be awkward as fuck, but we’ve made it work.
He doesn’t ask me who I spend my time with, but I hope he knows he’s always with me. Always in my thoughts.
