Secret Admirer - D.J. Jamison Page 0,59

of pulling off, and my thin hold on my restraint broke. Shattering, I pulsed over his tongue.

Benji swallowed, swiping at his lips to catch the cum that had leaked out, and sat up. Eyes bright, he said with a grin, “I think you might love me.”

“Where’d you get that idea?”

He chuckled, a little breathless. “I don’t know. Maybe you just really love blow jobs.”

I caught his eye. “I love everything with you. Even watching anime. Come on, let’s get cleaned up and you can turn on another episode.”

He brightened, seeming far more comfortable with me indulging in one of his favorite pastimes than he had when I first arrived.

We still had to tell the McKenzies about our relationship, and I still didn’t know how Jeremy would take it, but having a plan went a long way to easing my guilt.

And exchanging “I love yous” with Benji went a long way to reassuring me we were doing the right thing.

Regardless of what anyone else might think.

17

Benji

“Thanks for doing this,” Tracy said, watching over my shoulder as I drew a diagram for her on a large poster board. “I’m so hopeless when it comes to art, and my partner completely bailed on me.”

“It’s cool.”

She sighed, her breath tickling my neck, and I froze. “Can you give me some space?”

Tracy backed up a step. “Sorry.”

“You probably could have done all this on a computer,” I said, even though I didn’t mind helping Tracy with her project. Especially after she’d humored me with my secret admirer nonsense for so long. She was amazingly organized and focused, but the woman couldn’t draw a straight line to save her life. This was relatively straight-forward, just drawing out some graphics and illustrations to accompany her report about different learning styles.

“And let those bitches know I can’t hack it when it comes to craft time? I don’t think so.”

I snorted, trying to muffle a laugh. “And by bitches you mean…?”

“The other education majors.” She huffed. “They’re all so cute and bubbly. What the heck was I thinking, trying to be a teacher? The pay is awful anyway.”

“You were thinking you love kids,” I said as I resumed drawing. “Don’t worry about this. Not all teachers are bubbly.”

“I won’t be able to make cute little decorations for my room—”

“So print them, or trace them. Whatever,” I said.

“Or if we’re still friends, you’ll draw them?” She said it with an odd mix of coy and hope that made me laugh.

Glancing over my shoulder, I grinned. “What the hell? I owe you for all the notes you’ve taken for me.”

Just as I started to turn back, there was a knock at the door.

“You expecting someone?” Tracy asked.

Dre was out, and he didn’t get many visitors to the room anyway, usually texting with friends about meetups in other places.

“The only person who comes by is Ace,” I said.

“Ooh, I’ll get it then,” Tracy said, turning to the door. “I haven’t seen him since you guys became boyfriends.”

She was opening the door before I could respond.

“Well, hello. You’re not the boyfriend,” Tracy said as she swung the door open. Standing in the hallway, looking disheveled but handsome in a way only he could, was my brother.

“Boyfriend?” he said.

He wore a wool coat, his dark hair windblown, and combined with the stubble he’d grown, he suddenly seemed far beyond his college days. My brother had grown up.

And I still hadn’t told him about Ace. Oh, fuck.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, heart hammering.

“Tracking you down,” he said, sounding irritated as he barged inside without an invitation. He paused for a second look at Tracy. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Tracy glanced back at me. “Who’s this? Should I tell Ace he has competition?”

“Ace…” Jeremy looked confused, but he’d always been quick to add two and two. I didn’t have a hope of glossing over what Tracy had said. Eyes narrowing on me, he said, “Tell me what’s going on.”

Tracy looked uncertain. “Did I step in it?”

“It’s okay,” I said. Tracy had no reason to know I was keeping secrets. “Tracy, this surly guy is my brother. Jeremy, this is a good friend of mine. Maybe you could say hello instead of snarling commands.”

Jeremy looked abashed. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long day. I hate flying.”

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “Where did you come from?”

“Chicago. I’ve got a fellowship up there, and I thought Benji and I could drive home for Thanksgiving…” He trailed off. Cleared his throat. “Sorry for being rude, but … boyfriend?”