15. Cam

"Ohhhh, hot professor alert!" Jesse perked up with a grin that only widened as Sam swatted at him. "What? It's not like I'd actually fuck him, but considering some of the dinosaurs on display in this institution, he's a breath of fresh air."

I barely heard the rest of what Jesse was saying. My next breath froze in my chest, words on my tongue shattering as Grady weaved his way toward the bar. He was dressed down in a pair of jeans, loafers, and a dark green crewneck sweater that, fuck me, made him look even more delicious.

It shouldn't have been weird to see him here. Hell, I should've expected it. Both students and administration frequented the Nook and often ended up mingling outside of class. Rumor was that Pietro Bianchi, one of the U's celebrated philosophy professors, had paid to keep it open one night because he'd gotten into a debate with one of his doctoral candidates that had ended up lasting twenty-four hours. I wasn't sure that last part was true, but this place was legendary. I really wished I had remembered that and maybe suggested somewhere else. But fuck it, should I even have to do that? Was I going to do that? Live out the rest of my college days skirting my professor outside of class just because we'd had a few encounters that had left my legs like Jell-O? Fuck that.

"Eww." Jesse's nose wrinkled the same way it did when I made a cheese sandwich with Velveeta. "He's here with Lingen? That tool? Ughhh, he could do so much better."

"Professor Lusk is dating Lingen?" Nate cocked his head, eyeing the two men as they wrangled a pair of barstools. I averted my gaze stiffly. It didn't matter who he was with. "No way, I don't see it. They're just chilling. Talking boring professor stuff."

Eric's eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be so sure. If they're not, Lingen is definitely into him."

I reluctantly followed his line of sight as Professor Lingen leaned toward the bartender, his fingers grazing briefly, lightly over Grady's forearm. The forearm that had so expertly drained both our cocks a week before. I was trying to be good, though, trying to return to status quo, told myself that at least now I knew what it was like to kiss him. It would've been helpful if he hadn't been so goddamn good at it, though.

"Who wouldn't be?" Sam shrugged.

"You!" Jesse barked as my blood boiled.

"Oh, now you're territorial?" Sam cracked up.

"Yes." Jesse nodded. "Cuz you're demi, you aren't even attracted to people like everyone else."

"I can appreciate aesthetics. I learned that from you."

Jesse gave a belabored sigh. "Point made."

Sam reeled him in, laying a dramatic smooch on his cheek.

I took a breath and calmed myself. That was a totally inconclusive touch. Friends could touch like that. Plus, Grady and I weren't anything anyway, and we weren't ever going to be. I could accept our encounters as superhot, thrilling aberrations that had enabled me to learn more about myself and my tastes, and fuck, was I giving a dissertation to myself? I wasn't very convincing.

Jesse rolled his eyes fondly at Sam while my heart tested the limits of my rib cage. "He needs to lose those loafers. They're very last season."

"I think they look good." I didn't know what possessed me to say something. I didn't care about his fucking loafers, even if I did think they looked good. Still, despite the storm of jealousy whirling through me, I didn't like anyone dissing Grady. "He's a great professor, and I really enjoy his class," I tacked on, a little too strongly, judging by the way everyone's gaze swerved toward me.

"Ohhhhh, you have a crush on the professor?"

I didn't need a mirror to know my cheeks were flushing. Not exactly helping my case. "No," I huffed as if the idea was ridiculous. As if he hadn't had me whimpering when his strong fingers flexed on my thighs, dug into my skin. I shifted as my traitor brain transmitted that memory to my dick. "I'm just saying the loafers are fine, and we're sitting here analyzing a guy who's just trying to get a drink with his friend."

"Lingen is definitely into him." Eric sounded so certain, it irritated me.

Nate snorted. "You're seeing shit that's not there. They're literally sitting there drinking beer."

"My superpower is seeing shit other people don't see."

"Oh yeah?" Nate challenged, and Eric gave him a cool once-over.

"Mmmmmm. Sometimes things they're not even consciously aware of themselves, frat boy." Nate's mouth opened and closed as Eric smirked. "That's what I thought."

Unlike Nate, I didn't have a doubt in my mind that Eric picked up on shit better than most. I'd seen him observing others enough to suspect he had a lot going on in his brain. That he and Nate were together in the first place still blew my mind because talk about unlikely pairings. Nate had seemed like the straightest of straight arrows since I'd met him, so I could only conclude Eric, with his perspicacious nature, had discerned otherwise.

"Bathroom," Nate announced and then pointed a commanding finger at Eric. "You stay here."

"Maybe." Eric offered an unconvincing smile.

For some reason, that made the rest of the table crack up. Jesse, I guess taking pity on me, supplied, "Nate and Eric banged in a stall here once and didn't have the fucking decency to tell anyone. And, well, I'm pretty sure Sam did a video jerking off in one, too."

"No regrets." Eric's grin was smug.

"You never have them. It's why we love you." Jesse reached out and pinched his cheek. I was certain that was something only Jesse could get away with, too.

"Third stall?" Sam asked Eric, and then fist bumped him when he nodded.

"Jesus," I whispered. Sometimes I felt like I was in over my head with this crew. They were just all so fucking coupled up, and even though they never made me feel like the fifth wheel, I perpetually stuck out as the solo flyer when Ansel wasn't around.

"That's exactly what I said." Sam gave me a helpless smile. "You definitely want to wash your hands extra good if you use the restrooms here."

I adjusted in my seat, angling for a better view of Grady and his companion, eagle-eyeing their every movement. The conversation continued around me, but I was attuned to every nuance between the pair.

If Grady had spotted me, which seemed increasingly unlikely given how intently he and Lingen were speaking, he clearly didn't give a shit that I was nearby or could see them. There was absolutely no need for their heads to be so close together, though. It wasn't like it was as noisy as a stadium in here. My mood soured further.

Nate returned from the bathroom and slipped back into his seat, eyeing Eric with a grunt that sounded almost wistful.

At the bar, Grady said something that made Lingen lean impossibly closer, and I squeezed the napkin in my fist into a compact ball, the pressure of discontent as I tried to resist the urge to go stand between them and declare a neutral zone of at least a foot. Was Grady not concerned about germs? I thought I remembered a recent rumor that Lingen had caught a stomach bug so bad that he'd been out for an entire week and lost twenty pounds, though I couldn't detect any hint of that beneath the godawful blazer with leather patches on the elbows. Could he be more of a cliché?

"Cam?"

"Huh?" I blinked away from my squint-eyed examination of Lingen's hairline, which was, unfortunately, not receding in the slightest.

"If we get another double order of nachos, you'll help us eat them, right?"

"Yeah," I said distractedly as Lingen patted Grady lightly on the arm. Again. This dude was clueless about personal space. I shoved to my feet. "Bathroom," I announced and stalked in that direction, stewing.

I wanted Grady to be as fucking rattled as I was. I wanted him to be anything other than casually drinking a beer at a bar with the most boring fucking professor on campus, who no one liked. He was better than Lingen, he had to fucking know that.

In the bathroom, I caught myself right before heading into the third stall and rerouted to the middle one. I needed a minute to chill and focus, and then I could return to the table. Of course, the bathroom stalls made me think of Grady, which, let's be honest, was all the more reason to forget about him. How many people wanted to answer the question of where they'd first met with "A quaint little glory hole outside of Silver Ridge." A tale as old as time. Practically a Hallmark movie waiting to happen. No, a Hallmark movie waiting to happen was in progress at the bar. Two professors? How fucking sweet. How perfect. How…infuriating. I ground my molars and scrolled through my phone, searching for the motivational messages app I'd downloaded months ago at the tail end of a double shift. I'd had a midterm the next day and was convinced I didn't have enough energy left to power through yet another cram session on my own. My gaze landed on the TextFree icon, and I bit my lip. I knew Grady had been into what we'd done, and there was no fucking way Professor Dumbledore had my, my…zest for sex.

Maybe Grady deserved a reminder of that.

With the last stall leaching remnants of Nate, Eric, and Sam's previous sexual provocations, I opened my camera and then unbuttoned my pants.

That I was already hard was also infuriating, a near Pavlovian reaction thinking about Grady in the context of my surroundings.

I reached down and squeezed my shaft. I'd been thinking a nice dick pic, but stroking it felt like the tiniest bit of relief. Like a pressure valve released. I decided maybe a short vid was an even better reminder. Sam probably would've agreed. I hit Record and closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the pleasure for a solid ten seconds before I ended the video and gripped my base hard, staving off the orgasm. It'd have to wait. I might be a sexually open dude, but I wasn't about to nut alone in a stall while Grady was out there sitting at the bar with some other man. That was just pathetic, and I didn't do pathetic anymore. I'd had enough of that for a lifetime.

I uploaded the video to our chat thread, Grady's message thanking me for the Enigma maze the last communication there, and hit Send as soon as I exited the bathroom. Odds were good Grady wouldn't even open the thing until later, if at all. But I knew it was there, lying in wait for him, and that satisfied me enough.

To my surprise, as I rounded the corner, Grady was reaching for his phone. He glanced up, eyes widening as his gaze latched onto mine. He quickly pulled a professional facade, and I gave him a cool upnod for his trouble.

And then he opened the message.

If I thought he'd looked surprised before, that was nothing. His eyes damn near bugged from their sockets, and he sputtered a cough as and fumbled the phone and lost his hold on it.

The universe must have been on my team today because the thing landed two feet from mine as I was making my way back to my seat.

I leaned down and scooped it up. My video was playing on a loop. Grady was lucky there was no sound on it. I offered him one of my gracious server smiles and extended it back out to him. He was also lucky that I did that facedown.

"Here you go." My smile felt like the Joker's. "Again," I tacked on, under my breath. Was it my imagination, or did he flinch at my muttered comment?

"Ahh, yes, thank you, Cameron." Grady somehow managed to speak smoothly, eyes locking on mine. I met his gaze evenly and hoped that every unsaid thing swirling around my head was transmitted. Maybe it was because a flush crept up Grady's neck, and I wasn't sure whether it was because he was flustered or angry. Maybe both. I was fine with that.

"Mm-hmm. See you in class tomorrow. I've been studying really hard."

And with that, I moved past him and back to my seat.