5. Logan

5

LOGAN

Two weeks later

W inter Fest was an impromptu student-led block party-carnival mash-up that had sprung into existence a decade before I got to the U as a way to “ease” everyone back into the semester after Thanksgiving break. AKA, one last opportunity to get stupid drunk under the guise of a celebration before final exams and Winter break. People had been talking about it for weeks, Jesse and Nate in particular. Jesse because he was excited that all the frat houses opened their doors to the rest of us peons, and Jesse loved snaring frat boys even if he’d never wanted to be one. And Nate, because Nate was a frat boy.

It was cold as heck outside, but fire pits and heat lamps lined the street and scattered the lawns in front of the houses. Some people roasted marshmallows, others romped in bounce houses, or played games with prizes, all benefiting local charities.

Jesse, Nate, and I strolled along the wide lane of frat row, covertly spiked cider from Nate’s fraternity clutched in our hands as we weaved through the masses of revelers. A band played at the far end of the block and Jesse bounced excitedly on his toes every time he spotted a hot guy—which was about every five seconds.

“Do you see Chet yet?” Jesse craned his head, looking around as I shrugged.

“Nope. But we’re not supposed to meet until eight at the main bonfire.”

Nate nudged my shoulder. “Are you excited? You don’t seem too hyped.”

I shrugged again. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I dunno. Blind dates are one of those things that always seem better in theory than in reality.”

The truth was, Josh had been occupying way too much space in my brain. I’d been tutoring him for weeks, and every single time he showed up armed with an arsenal of burgers, fries, and his stupidly sexy grin. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to like him, let alone salivate over his dimpled smile every time it was aimed my way. The ‘dumb athlete’ box I’d tried to mentally keep him in was disintegrating because, dammit, he wasn’t dumb. He was funny, and warm, and… not my type at all. And a jock. Plus, straight. But the rest of my body blithely ignored my brain, doing absurd stuff like speeding up my heart rate every time I walked into the library to meet him, and unhelpfully populating my brain with ridiculous fantasies of us together when I left.

Chet was supposed to be the antidote.

I’d found him on a hook-up app after returning from Thanksgiving break, where I spent an inordinate amount of time at home wondering how Josh was spending his. I figured I was overdue to get laid, and after chatting with Chet through the app long enough to tell he seemed cool, and not like a psychopath, we’d agreed to meet up tonight. I really wanted to be more excited than I was, though. Instead, I found myself keeping a constant eye out for Josh. We hadn’t had a study session since right before the U let out for the week-long break.

“Feel ya there,” Nate grumbled, then muttered a curse. “Shit, I need to be at the pie-throwing thing right now. I’m up next. Frat duty.” He rolled his eyes.

“Ohhh, I’m not missing this. I’ve been waiting to pie your face since I met you.” Jesse cackled.

“Why does it sound dirty when you say it?”

“Because he totally meant it that way.” I ducked as Jesse punched me on the shoulder.

“I did but I didn’t. As my roommate, you’re definitely on my no-fly list,” Jesse told Nate, then hooked his arm through mine. “C’mon, let’s go pie some frat guys.”

The scent of woodsmoke and grilled meat filled the air as we trailed after Nate, who was charging through the crowd. “Are all of Nate’s frat brothers doing the pie throw, do you think?” I tried to ask inconspicuously, but Jesse narrowed his eyes suspiciously at me anyway.

“Why? Might you be hoping to see one in particular?”

“No.” Yes. Josh hadn’t been around earlier when we’d gone into the house’s basement for the spiked cider, sadly.

“Uh-huh. Might he be a tall, devilishly dimpled, handsome lacrosse player with questionable abilities at physics?”

“He’s actually doing well in physics now,” I said, a little too defensively. I liked tutoring people, seeing the lightbulb moments brighten their face, knowing that I’d helped them get there. It was the reason I wanted to pursue teaching. But tutoring Josh had definitely become something beyond just wanting to help him succeed in a class. “He’s not dumb, he just needed a little help learning how to?—”

“Oh my god. Say no more. You’re definitely into him.”

“I’m not,” I insisted weakly, and chugged the rest of my cider. It went down way too easily. “I’m not . We wouldn’t work.”

Jesse tilted his head, giving me a skeptical side-eye. “Why not?”

“Because,” I said, but the rest of what I’d intended to be a hastily cobbled together dissertation on the many reasons we wouldn’t work died on my lips as we got to the Sigma pie-throwing booth. Because there was Josh Pickett sitting behind it in all his devilishly dimpled, handsome glory, with a dollop of whipped cream smeared across his brow and more in his hair, suggesting that someone had recently had good aim.

Nate disappeared around to the back of the booth and Josh arched a brow as Jesse and I approached the throwing line. “I know you’ve got mad physics skills on paper. You wanna test them in the real world?” he called out to me as he waggled his brows.

“Pass,” I said, immediately. I had no desire for a hot athlete like him to judge my pitiful throwing skills, but I would gladly observe someone else pie him.

“He means, mission accepted!” Jesse crowed, then hissed out of the corner of his mouth at me, “Stay right there, you’re doing this.”

A handful of seconds later, he was pushing a pie pan of whipped cream into my hand. I gave in and grinned in spite of my reservations as I lofted it. “How about you tell me the formula for terminal velocity and if you’re right, I won’t nail you with this pie.”

“Awfully confident of you, Whizkid,” Josh teased. Why did my balls tingle at a mere tease from him? The universe was cruel. “But, sadly for me, I’d need a pencil and paper to figure that shit out, so take your best shot. I have my doubts.”

I lobbed the first pie and missed, whispering a curse. Louder, I said, “The wind shifted.”

“Uh-huh.” Josh cracked a cocky grin that just begged for a whipped cream flourish.

Jesse handed me another pie, and then another after I missed again, this time blaming faulty footing.

“Isn’t there, like, a pie limit or something?” Josh mock frowned.

“Not when it benefits charity,” I said archly, then hefted the third pie, squinted one eye just to be sure, and launched it at him. This time, the pie met its mark, slamming Josh right in the face in a spray of white and causing him to bark out a loud laugh of disbelief.

“Holy shit.” He laughed as he scooped the cream from his eyes. “That was pretty fucking good.”

“Remember that.”

“You invoked physics wizardry, didn’t you?” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t lie.”

“Maybe.” I gave him an imperious smile. “We can put it on paper at our next session and see.”

Josh flipped me the bird and turned to wipe his face on the towel another brother extended him.

I glanced down at my watch and then over at Jesse. “I’m gonna head toward the bonfire. It’s getting close to eight.”

“All right, I’m gonna hang here. Too much eye candy to leave now.”

I sketched a wave in Josh’s direction and started off toward the end of the street, where the main bonfire’s flames licked high into the air.

“Hey!”

I glanced over my shoulder at Josh as he loped across the asphalt and fell in step beside me. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

God, he smelled delicious. Sweet, like sugar mixed with ripe clementines. The urge to lick him was way too strong after the spiked cider. “It was good. Yours?”

He shoved his hands in the pocket of a hoodie, its collar dark with what I guessed was whipped cream, and probably the source of the sweet scent. “It was cool.” He chewed on his lower lip. “I kinda missed our sessions actually.” He darted a look sidelong at me. “I worried maybe I’d forget everything.”

“Nah. You’re doing really well.” I was secretly thrilled that Josh had used the word missed in association with me. Well, adjacent association with me. He hadn’t actually said he’d missed me after all, and I totally understood worrying about forgetting stuff. “We’re still on for Tuesday?”

“Yup.” He nodded. “Definitely.”

“All right, well I guess I’ll see you then.”

Josh’s brow furrowed. “Are you leaving?”

“Oh, no, I just figured you were being polite and the polite part was done and you could move on.”

He chuckled. “You’re really funny sometimes.”

I wasn’t aware that I was being funny, but whatever.

“I’m trying to talk to you. Catch up with you. You know, make conversation?”

I eyed him dubiously. “Okay. Are you gonna ask me some questions, then?”

“Wow. Right in the hot seat. Yeah, umm…” Josh rubbed his hands together briskly. “Sorry, Teach, I didn’t prepare my list of questions beforehand. So, uhhhh, let’s start with… Did Jared make it in time for the feast?”

A smile twitched at the corners of my mouth. Our families had come up in our tutoring sessions. I’d latched onto every morsel he’d fed me about his dog, two sisters, his mom and dad, and the hardware store they’d started when he was a kid, antics he’d shared about high school and playing lacrosse. But I didn’t expect him to remember the stuff I’d shared in return.

I’d told him my older brother had originally said he couldn’t make it for Thanksgiving. He was a hedge fund manager in New York and had a big meeting a couple of days before the holiday. My mom had given him a huge guilt trip about it. “He did, yeah. And it was really nice to see my folks. Did you end up finding an acceptable Christmas present for Aly?” Josh had bitched about how impossible a sixteen-year-old girl was to shop for during our last session, so he planned on trying to subtly figure out what she wanted over the break.

“Yeah, sort of. She wants a little COACH clutch. But I think I got the wrong color, which I guess is blasphemy. I’ll have to exchange it before Christmas or suffer the consequences.” He rolled his eyes with an easy laugh. “But same. It was good to be back home. Got to see some old friends, hang out.” He bit his lower lip. “I told my family I was bi.”

If I’d had any cider left, I’d have choked on it. As it was, I almost dropped my empty cup. “You what?”

It was the first time I’d ever seen him look almost shy.

“Yup.” He shrugged. “I figured it was time. I mean, I’ve known for a while. Just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was time, yeah,” he repeated, then cleared his throat, and I wasn’t sure what reaction I was supposed to have because internally I was screaming, “ Joshua Pickett likes guys, too. There’s a chance!”

Except there wasn’t really a chance, the painfully logical part of my brain chimed in. Just because Josh liked guys didn’t mean he automatically liked me . I tried to play it cool with a nod and a mild hum of acknowledgment that didn’t sound remotely as cool as I meant it to. It was more like a reedy warble—the sound of my libido soaring on the wings of hope for all of two seconds before reality slammed it back into the ground. “Good for you. I’m sure they didn’t bat a lash, considering what you’ve told me about them.”

“Nope, not at all. They’re great. It was kind of a relief to say it out loud, though.” He nudged my arm. “Were yours laid-back when you came out?”

I considered for a moment. “I never really came out formally. I’m pretty sure they always knew. When senior prom came around, I told them I was going with a guy named Ben and they told me to be safe and have fun. Then they took a million pictures.”

“What was Ben like?” Josh eyed me sidelong.

“He was all right. I knew him from chess team and debate club. We were more acquaintances than friends. Awful kisser, though,” I added, then immediately regretted it. Was that too much?

Josh’s expression was thoughtful rather than horrified that I’d overshared, though. We slowed at the edge of the bonfire and I glanced at my watch before looking around.

“Who are you looking for?”

God, I wished he hadn’t asked, but I didn’t want to lie to him. “A friend. Sort of.”

A small smile hooked his mouth. “Oh, like a friend friend?”

“A blind date, sort of.”

“Then how do you know who you’re looking for?”

I laughed. “Smartass. We’ve been chatting on an app, but we’ve never met in person before. I know what he looks like, though. He’s gonna be in a red button-down. Dark hair.”

“Is he cute?”

I eyed Josh skeptically, then decided he was just being friendly. “He’s pretty cute, sure.” Despite my half-hearted attempts to muster some enthusiasm, my interest in this date had divebombed.

“Oh. Good.” Josh nodded a couple of times. “That’s good. Do you see him yet?”

We both scanned the crowd. On the fringes of the bonfire, I spotted a wisp of red that resolved into a lanky, dark-haired guy. Chet. My gaze did a wild ping pong thing back and forth between Josh and Chet, all of me wishing I could spend the rest of the night hanging out by the bonfire with Josh.

Josh nudged me again. “Is that him?” He canted his head in Chet’s direction.

“That’s him,” I reluctantly confirmed.

“Oh wow, he’s definitely good-looking.” Josh said it so assessingly that I almost took offense. I mean, I might be a bit nerdy and socially awkward and grumpy at times, but I wasn’t awful to look at. Before I could say anything more, he bumped my shoulder gently. “Go get him.” He hesitated, before adding, “I hope you have a nice time. See you at our next session.”

Then, with a quick wave, he turned around and walked off, just like that.

I trudged toward the bonfire, my head still spinning from Josh’s revelation. Bi . Josh was bi. The words kept echoing in my brain, along with the way he’d just walked away when I mentioned meeting someone.

“Logan?” Chet lifted his hand in a wave as I approached. He was standing near the edge of the bonfire, exactly where he said he’d be. Dark hair, red button-down, attractive smile. A week ago, when we’d matched on the app, his pics and easy charm had seemed like exactly what I needed to get over my pesky crush on the straight guy. Except Josh wasn’t straight, and now I couldn’t focus on anything except the way he’d looked at me as he’d told me about coming out to his parents, how vulnerable and real it had felt.

I came to a stop before Chet, pasting a smile on my face and trying to push Josh and his bisexuality from my mind. “Hey. Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

“No worries. Want to grab a drink?”

We made our way to one of the beverage stations, and I struggled again to keep my focus on the present. Just because Josh had come out to me didn’t mean anything. He’d probably felt comfortable telling me because I was already out. Like how girls sometimes told me everything about their love lives because I wasn’t going to try to sleep with them. God, was that what this was? Was I going to become Josh’s gay confidant while he explored his sexuality with other people? The idea made my stomach churn.

“So,” Chet said after a particularly long pause in our stilted small talk. “Want to be honest about why you’re checking over my shoulder every thirty seconds?”

I winced. “That obvious?”

His smile was kind. “Does it have anything to do with the guy you were talking to earlier? The one who walked you over here?”

“I’m sorry. I really thought I wanted to meet up tonight but?—”

“Hey, no worries.” Chet shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m not really in a place for anything serious anyway. Got some stuff I’m dealing with.” Something flickered behind his eyes before he shook it off. “You seem like your head’s somewhere else, too. Or maybe with someone else?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, then sighed. “That obvious?”

“Only because I’ve been that distracted guy before.” He finished his drink. “Look, no pressure, we can just make this a friendly thing, and if you just want to hang out sometimes, I could actually use more friends who get it, you know?”

The offer felt genuine, and some of the tension eased from my shoulders. I was probably more relieved than I should’ve been. “That’d be great, actually.”

We chatted over another round of cider about classes and the upcoming break, and by the time I walked home, my head was a little clearer. Josh had trusted me with something important tonight. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel weird about it by reading too much into things or pushing for more than he was ready to give.