I swallow, hard, moving my eyes down to the floor. The small garbage can next to his roommate’s desk is overflowing with balled-up papers. His comforter hangs half off the bed, a pile of laundry on the end of the mattress. Meanwhile, Cauler’s side is immaculate. It makes me think about what his room at home might look like. If it’s just as clean because he lived in Green Bay the past couple years. If he made a mess of it this summer.
“What I want doesn’t matter,” I say. My voice is choked. I press a fist to my lips and take a deep breath. “Even what we’re doing now is dangerous. People take pictures of us and put them online, what if someone sees us—” I cut myself off and clear the emotion out of my throat.
“So do you want to stop, then?” He’s stopped fidgeting, sitting completely still as his eyes burn right through me, unblinking. I shift uncomfortably, the chair creaking beneath me.
Stopping would be for the best. No more hickeys to explain away, for one. No chance of someone getting a poorly timed picture of us being careless on campus.
I rub the back of my neck, avert my gaze to Cauler’s open closet and its row of mostly black shirts. “I mean … no.”
Cauler doesn’t say anything. I can see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I can’t bring myself to look back at him. I cross my arms, slouch down in the seat. Click my tongue against the roof of my mouth just to fill some of the awkward silence.
It lasts a few good … long … seconds, before Cauler huffs this kind of disbelieving laugh and shakes his head. He rubs his eyes and looks so tired when he says, “Jesus, Terzo.”
My pulse spikes. I sit up straight. “What? Now what?”
He shakes his head. “You’re such a … little shit.” He says it like a groan. Like I am causing him physical pain.
“Why is it all on me anyway?” I ask. “You said you know what you want, so why don’t you tell me?”
He drags his hands down his face and sits up, planting his feet flat on the floor. He looks me dead-on and says, “I don’t want to be just an option for you. I’m not asking for some strict commitment or to be boyfriends or anything. Just, if you’re gonna start messing around with someone else, I’m not sticking around for it.”
I finally meet his eyes, chewing on the inside of my cheek. It’s a simple request, and an easy one to agree to. But part of me is a little disappointed that he didn’t ask for a strict commitment. I mean, I’d probably say no. It’s too risky, too likely to end painfully for both of us. But I can dream, right?
“That’s fine,” I say.
He studies me for a second, his face unreadable. He takes in a sharp breath and says, “Wanna stay tonight?”
“What about your roommate?” I ask.
Cauler rolls his eyes. “He tried to bring a fucking Ouija board in here with a bunch of his friends, so I kicked him out. Told him not to come back till he’s sure he’s not possessed.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I guess he thought since I listen to screamo and wear black clothes, I’d be chill with it? I don’t know.”
“So you planning on a single next year, then?”
“Nah. Going for a triple with Barbie and Doll Face.”
“Oh.” I swear my heart sinks all the way to my toes. The three of them sharing a room. Without me. While I’m off living with one of my veteran teammates in a city that’s to be determined. I stand up before I can fall into that spiral and take off my jacket. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”
He pulls his legs up onto his bed and makes room for me. I kick my shoes off in the middle of the room and settle in beside him.
This will have to be enough.
* * *
I WAKE UP in Cauler’s bed.
I don’t know where I am at first, hit by a brief moment of half-asleep panic before everything from last night comes together.
Cauler’s still asleep, his back pressed to the wall and one of his arms draped over my waist. My sweatpants bunch around my calf where my leg is pinned between his. His lips are parted just a little in his sleep, and he looks so damn soft I could die.
And I’m not looking for anything. I’m really not. But I’m not ready for this to end.
I close my eyes and settle back into the pillow to get more sleep, but a second later, Cauler’s saying, “Hey.”
His voice is rough in the morning. It’s appalling how freaking hot he is.
“Hey,” I say.
He stretches around me, making that soft straining noise people make when they do their morning stretch. It’s adorable. When he relaxes again, his face presses closer to mine.
“I’d kiss you,” he says, “but your breath smells horrible.”
“I mean, you didn’t offer me a toothbrush last night.”
“Those are like ten bucks apiece at the bookstore, man, I don’t stock up.”
“I guess I’ll try not to breathe, then.”
He smiles, eyes closed. “That might be for the best.”
What would be for the best would be going back to my own room. Taking a shower and brushing my teeth. Emailing the counseling office and getting another appointment set up.
Getting my life together.
“It smells like dirty socks in here,” I say.
“Like I said. Your breath is terrible.”
“Fuck you, it doesn’t smell like feet.”
He chuckles. It’s the kind of sound that’s gonna repeat in my head until it drives me nuts. “My roommate does laundry, like, once a month,” he says.
I throw a panicked look over to his roommate’s side at the mention of him, but the bed’s empty.
“I texted him,” Cauler says. “He’s not coming back till after brunch. I swear, if he brings a ghost back with him…”
I let out a sigh of relief and roll onto my back, stretching my arms above my head until my back arches off the bed. Cauler trails his fingertips over my ribs lightly enough to give me chills.
“Y’know,” he starts, pausing to yawn. “Drug interaction or not, it’s good to see you get a little emotional sometimes.”
I turn my head to the side to give him a look. “I feel mildly offended? Either way, that’s all you’re gonna get. I have a set limit of one emotion per week.”
“I’ll mark it on my calendar.” His hand is warm on my bare skin.
This is nothing. This means nothing. He doesn’t even like me, let alone like me. This is only happening because I was the closest available, moderately attractive guy who gave off some pretty transparent gay vibes.
This is nothing.
His fingers flex against my hip. His breath sounds unsteady. His eyes are closed. “Question. Don’t think too much into it.”
Oh god, here we go.
“What are your plans for break?” he asks.
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth when I open it, because oh my god? Is this going where I think it’s going? “I usually go to Nova’s,” I say slowly. “But she’s in Milan or something.”
“Raleigh, then?”
I laugh bitterly. “I don’t remember the last time I spent Christmas with my family.”
I don’t say it for the sad look he gives me, but thankfully he doesn’t dwell on it. “Soooo … why don’t you come to Boston?”
I push up onto my elbow to look down at him. “Boston? Like with you?”
“Yeah, I mean.” He shrugs a shoulder and avoids looking me in the eye. “My family’s pretty hospitable. I don’t got five sisters like you, but I have a lot of cousins. Both sides cram into my parents’ house, and there’s chaos and way too much food and alcohol and card games. I hear my ex-uncle’ll be there, so that’ll be interesting.”
“Why’s your ex-uncle coming?”
“He’s not officially an ex yet and his kids’ll be there, so he thinks it’s his right to tag along. My aunt filed for divorce, but it’s not finalized yet. Shae gets into it with him. Entertaining as hell.”
“Sounds tiring.”
“Most things are tiring to you.”
Talking about being tired triggers a massive yawn that Cauler covers with his hand to block my morning breath. We both laugh sleepily.
“What’ll your family say about you consorting with the enemy?” I ask.
“Ehh, they’ll see how tiny you are in real life and realize you’re no threat.”
“You’re no Zdeno Chara yourself.”
“Six inches make a big difference, Terzo. Bet you didn’t know you got this weird-looking cowlick up here.” He twirls some of the hair on top of my head around his finger and my heart fills my entire chest. “I got a perfect view.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs. Pulls me in closer, closing his eyes, looking like he’s gonna fall right back to sleep. I have this acute awareness of every point of contact between us.