fixed on the professor, but the little smirk on his face assures me that he knows exactly what he’s doing.
After another hour of torturous touches, the professor assigns next week’s reading assignment and dismisses the class. We practically bolt out the door.
“Follow me.”
I nod, and Brandon takes my hand. I don’t even ask where we’re going. We head down the hallway and through a corridor that leads to more classrooms—all of which seem to be empty. He quickly pulls me into one of the dim rooms and kicks the door closed behind us before leading me to the teacher’s desk. Lifting me up, he gently places me on top and steps between my legs. We’re laughing until he lowers his head, trailing his lips down my neck and along my jaw. I groan, which makes him do the same.
We kiss until we’re breathless.
“What’s this?” Brandon whispers, and I feel his fingers trail along the chain around my neck. Reaching down into my shirt, I pull out my dad’s silver tags.
“I’ve never noticed these before.”
“I don’t wear them all the time.”
He carefully examines the inscription. “William James.”
“Mom called him Billy. Besides some old pictures and a framed flag, it’s really the only connection I have to my dad. I like to wear it when I’m stressed out or worried. It . . . makes me feel better.”
Brandon smiles and runs his fingers along the silver metal before slipping the chain down my shirt, letting it fall back into place.
“I’m impressed. You didn’t even sneak a peek.”
“Thought about it. It just didn’t seem appropriate.” He grins and laces his fingers with mine. “Since you’re wearing the tags today, I’m assuming you’re worried, and I bet it has something to do with our living arrangement.”
I sigh deeply. “A little, yes.”
“Why?”
I decide to prove my point.
“What’s our reading assignment for next week in Women’s Lit?”
His blank stare is my answer.
“See! I don’t know, either. We literally just left class, and I can’t remember one thing the teacher said because your hands were very, very distracting. You are very, very distracting.”
Brandon leans down and kisses just below my ear.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
“No, you’re not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m not sorry, either.”
He chuckles and helps me down. Taking my hand, he leads me out of the building and into the chilly afternoon. About three inches of snow is on the ground, but thankfully, the sidewalks are clear.
“We can make this work,” Brandon says as we walk. “I know we can. We just have to set some boundaries, that’s all.”
“That’s what Tessa said, too.”
“She’s right.” He looks down at his watch. “She’s moving her stuff this afternoon?”
“Yeah, Xavier and some guys from the team were loading her boxes as I left for class.”
He nods. “I should probably start packing, too. I don’t have much. It’ll probably take just a few boxes.”
“And you don’t need a dresser or bed. Tessa left hers.”
“Sweet. What size bed?”
“It’s a queen, I think. That okay?”
Brandon laughs. “I’ve been sleeping on a twin, so anything is better than that.”
It’s become a habit, him walking me to my apartment. Our apartment, now, I guess. So I’m not surprised when we find ourselves standing in front of it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as we step inside.
“Thinking it’s sort of scary how I just blindly follow you anywhere.”
A thoughtful expression crosses his face, and he steps closer, taking my hands in his.
“I’m glad you trust me enough to do that,” he says, his voice soft and deep. “I can’t lie, though. This is new territory for me, and I could really mess it up. But I care a lot about you, and I can’t promise I’ll make the most rational decisions, so when it comes to us—not as roommates, but as us , I’m following your lead.”
There’s no need to read between the lines. He’s
After another hour of torturous touches, the professor assigns next week’s reading assignment and dismisses the class. We practically bolt out the door.
“Follow me.”
I nod, and Brandon takes my hand. I don’t even ask where we’re going. We head down the hallway and through a corridor that leads to more classrooms—all of which seem to be empty. He quickly pulls me into one of the dim rooms and kicks the door closed behind us before leading me to the teacher’s desk. Lifting me up, he gently places me on top and steps between my legs. We’re laughing until he lowers his head, trailing his lips down my neck and along my jaw. I groan, which makes him do the same.
We kiss until we’re breathless.
“What’s this?” Brandon whispers, and I feel his fingers trail along the chain around my neck. Reaching down into my shirt, I pull out my dad’s silver tags.
“I’ve never noticed these before.”
“I don’t wear them all the time.”
He carefully examines the inscription. “William James.”
“Mom called him Billy. Besides some old pictures and a framed flag, it’s really the only connection I have to my dad. I like to wear it when I’m stressed out or worried. It . . . makes me feel better.”
Brandon smiles and runs his fingers along the silver metal before slipping the chain down my shirt, letting it fall back into place.
“I’m impressed. You didn’t even sneak a peek.”
“Thought about it. It just didn’t seem appropriate.” He grins and laces his fingers with mine. “Since you’re wearing the tags today, I’m assuming you’re worried, and I bet it has something to do with our living arrangement.”
I sigh deeply. “A little, yes.”
“Why?”
I decide to prove my point.
“What’s our reading assignment for next week in Women’s Lit?”
His blank stare is my answer.
“See! I don’t know, either. We literally just left class, and I can’t remember one thing the teacher said because your hands were very, very distracting. You are very, very distracting.”
Brandon leans down and kisses just below my ear.
“Sorry,” he whispers.
“No, you’re not.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m not sorry, either.”
He chuckles and helps me down. Taking my hand, he leads me out of the building and into the chilly afternoon. About three inches of snow is on the ground, but thankfully, the sidewalks are clear.
“We can make this work,” Brandon says as we walk. “I know we can. We just have to set some boundaries, that’s all.”
“That’s what Tessa said, too.”
“She’s right.” He looks down at his watch. “She’s moving her stuff this afternoon?”
“Yeah, Xavier and some guys from the team were loading her boxes as I left for class.”
He nods. “I should probably start packing, too. I don’t have much. It’ll probably take just a few boxes.”
“And you don’t need a dresser or bed. Tessa left hers.”
“Sweet. What size bed?”
“It’s a queen, I think. That okay?”
Brandon laughs. “I’ve been sleeping on a twin, so anything is better than that.”
It’s become a habit, him walking me to my apartment. Our apartment, now, I guess. So I’m not surprised when we find ourselves standing in front of it.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks as we step inside.
“Thinking it’s sort of scary how I just blindly follow you anywhere.”
A thoughtful expression crosses his face, and he steps closer, taking my hands in his.
“I’m glad you trust me enough to do that,” he says, his voice soft and deep. “I can’t lie, though. This is new territory for me, and I could really mess it up. But I care a lot about you, and I can’t promise I’ll make the most rational decisions, so when it comes to us—not as roommates, but as us , I’m following your lead.”
There’s no need to read between the lines. He’s
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