Page 104 of Lessons in Chemistry

“Yes. I think we are.” He glances at the departure board. “My bus is here. I’d better go.”

“Thanks for today, Auggie.”

“Thanks for suggesting it. I’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He takes the bag I’m holding from me and picks the others up. “I’ll get these wrapped and ready for Thursday. We’re going to spoil Emory rotten on his birthday.”

I wait for his bus to leave and then walk into town. I need to buy one more gift. As I search for a shop that can make custom keyrings, I think about what happened with Auggie today. The time we spent together, the brief kisses we shared. Aborted French kiss aside, it was fun and relaxed, and yes, lunch felt like a date. He made me smile. Simply being around him made my tummy flutter at times, especially when he cupped my cheek. I feel safe when I’m with him. I’m pretty certain it all adds up to one conclusion: I like Auggie as more than a friend.

21

AUGGIE

As I travel to Emory and Casey’s flat on Tuesday for our agreed check-in, I dwell on what happened between Casey and me at the bus station on Saturday. I regret half of our final conversation, if not all of it. I pressured him. I’d told myself I wouldn’t, but I did anyway. Telling him how I felt. Kissing him. Almost putting my tongue in his mouth. What the fuck was I thinking?

I wasn’t thinking. Not with my head anyway. But not with my dick either. I rub my chest. I was still an idiot. Now I’m terrified I’ve done the opposite of what I intended. What if I’ve scared him off?

It’s why I didn’t stay at the flat on Saturday night, even though Emory asked me to. We had a great evening together. We went bowling, which was hilarious because we were both hopeless at it. I don’t think anyone has ever got a worse score than the two of us. We spent more time laughing and kissing than bowling. When we did toss balls down the aisle, our efforts were half-hearted and hampered by fits of giggles. I’ve never had so much fun bowling in my life.

Afterwards, we went to his flat, and I cooked dinner and then we watched a film. Okay, a film was on. It was terrible, so we ended up making out on the sofa and then frotting in his bedroom, which was insanely hot. Plus, I got to see his orgasm face again. Watching a cute nerd in glasses come undone is insanely sexy. But I left before Casey got home from swimming. Not because I didn’t want to see him, but because I knew I’d fucked up.

I spent yesterday evening with Emory too. We played some board games and chatted. Everything was relaxed and easy, but once again, I avoided running into Casey. I’m such a coward.

Now I’ve got no choice but to face him and hope I haven’t ruined things between the three of us.

My heart flutters as I ring their intercom. Emory buzzes me up. My nerves only get worse as I ride the lift to their floor and then knock. Emory greets me with a kiss.

I sniff the air as I step inside and shut the door. “Something smells nice.”

Casey looks out of the kitchen. “It’s my turn to cook for you. It won’t be long.” He grins and ducks back inside.

That’s a good sign, isn’t it? Casey seems cheerful and relaxed. Maybe I didn’t fuck up after all.

“You look nervous,” Emory says.

I join him on the sofa. “I’ve never done one of these relationship check-ins before. I’ve never had a relationship before.”

He holds my hand. “None of us have. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. It’s been a great week, hasn’t it?”

“For you. You’ve had two men at your disposal,” I tease, leaning forward to kiss him.

Pink splashes across his face, creating blotchy patches over his cheeks and nose. “It’s been nice.” He glances at the kitchen door. Then he looks at me with concerned eyes. “You’ve been okay with it, haven’t you?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you know where Casey’s head is at?” I ask.

“On my shoulders, where it’s supposed to be,” Casey says from the kitchen doorway. He’s carrying a tray with three bowls on it. “I hope you like stir-fry.”

“I love it.” I hold my nose to stop myself from laughing at his deadpan comment, but it still escapes.

He brings the tray over, and we each take a bowl.

“It’s not as fancy as the stuff you cook. Just chicken, vegetables, and a packet of sauce.” He puts the tray on the carpet and sits beside it.