I know?
Jesse: Are you going to actually tell me or is this “hey” the redux?
Sam: I got an A on the test.
Jesse: Congrats.
Sam: What’d you get?
Jesse: C+. You happy?
Sam: Yeah.
Sam: I mean, no, not happy. That was what I was going to ask at first, but then I looked over and you were scowling so I decided not to.
I glanced over my shoulder at him again, and he pulled a face.
Jesse: I blame your for distracting me from further studying.
Sam: It can be distracting, yeah.
Jesse: Not like that. I mean that I went back to my room and couldn’t concentrate because I was mortified.
Sam: I told you there was no reason to be. It’s no big deal.
Sam: I mean it’s big, haha, but it’s not a deal. I made a new video, curious to know what you think.
Jesse: I’m not watching any more of your videos.
Sam: Ever?
Sam: It’s a shower vid. But the lens got a little foggy. I’m not sure whether I should post it anyway or if I’ll just be opening myself to shade about the quality or getting lazy or something.
Goddamn him.
Sam: I’m legit curious. You’re a good judge of that stuff.
Jesse: What an honor. I wonder if I can put that on my resume.
Sam: Probably. I know a guy who put head of landscape design on his resume after mowing his parents’ yards all summer.
Jesse: Was it you?
A peal of laughter rang out from the back of the lecture hall. Prof. Horton stopped, then resumed after Sam apologized.
Sam: No. Fuck. Horton gave me the stink eye.
Jesse: I’m not watching my roommate’s jerk vids.
Sam: You did before.
Jesse: Technical error. We’ve been over this.
Sam: Okay, fine. But if you do happen to “accidentally” stumble across it or whatever, and happen to form an opinion on it, you could maybe let me know? You don’t even have to say it to my face. You can leave it in the comments or something.
I burst into a laugh, and Prof. Horton stopped pacing to shoot me a withering glare, next.
Jesse: That was your fault.
Sam: No way. I was being serious. You’re the one who laughed.
Jesse: I’m done with these texts.
Sam: Cold, dude.
As soon as class let out, I bolted up right, slung my laptop under my arm, and hitched my backpack over my shoulder, speed-walking toward the door and falling in step beside Sam when I spotted Reid closing in behind me.
“Hey,” I said breathlessly, keeping an eye on Reid as he slowed down before passing me with a frown.
“Hey.” Sam grinned. “So…what exactly about that text cracked you up? I was serious.
“I know.” I shrugged. God, his crooked grin was the perfect amalgam of cute and sexy. How had I never noted that before? Stop it. Subject change. “You know what would be really hot and a little taboo? Doing a video during class.”
“You’re crazy. There’s no way I could make that happen. It’s not logistically possible.”
“Not in a lecture class, but maybe in one of the larger classrooms? A lab.” Reid disappeared into another building. Great. I could wrap this up and move on now.
“You know, you’ve got an awful lot of thoughts about this.”
“Not really. Anyway, something to consider. You and your selfie stick.”
“Wanna go get lunch?” Sam thumbed toward the guys walking alongside him, who were engrossed with their phones. “I’m going with—”
“Nope. Gotta go. See ya later.” I patted him on the shoulder and peeled off in the other direction abruptly, feeling a little bad for the confusion I glimpsed in his expression as I turned away. But not bad enough to linger trying to converse with him while simultaneously waging a fierce internal war with a burgeoning erection fueled by images of him jacking off under a desk.
Sam leaned in my doorway later that night, a towel slung around his shoulders, the clean scent of him filling the air as he lived up to sports hero fantasy. He massaged his shoulder idly as he looked me over.
“Was Reid bothering you earlier today? In class, I mean?”
“Nah. I helped him make a new friend.” I smiled fondly at the memory of Reid’s bewilderment. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”
“Tough practice. Wanna massage it for me?”
In spite of Sam’s playful brow waggle, heat poured through me. God, if that wasn’t a scenario I’d watched a hundred times on Pornhub. “Sometimes I can’t tell when you’re joking.”
“Same. Here’s the trick: I’m rarely ever joking when people think I am. Sometimes it works out for the best, sometimes