Page 18 of Lessons in Chemistry

“Maybe we should put the heating on.” He sits and uses the heel of his hand to rub his left shoulder blade. “I’m going to have that shower.”

My fingers twitch. I could offer to give him a massage. Friends do that, don’t they?

“I’m glad you’re going to take the day off. Are you sure you don’t want to come to the coffee shop to meet Auggie?”

“No. I’ve got an assignment due at the end of the week. I should focus on that.”

“You need a break.”

He slumps his shoulders. “I won’t work too hard. You can distract me when you get home from meeting Auggie.”

“Distract you? How?” My thoughts shouldn’t be going straight to cuddling and kissing, but they do.

“By telling me about your coffee date.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” I pinch my eyes shut. “It’s not a date.”

“Okay.” He gets up and leaves without a backwards glance.

I breathe out a sigh of relief. I got away with that. Either he didn’t notice my erection, or he’s got the best poker face in existence.

* * *

I’m on my second iced coffee by the time Auggie arrives at the coffee shop. He swaggers in without so much as an apology and hands me his essay with a huge grin on his face. Unfortunately, all I can think about is my dream. The dream that’s refusing to fade to nothingness, as most dreams do. No. It’s living rent-free in my head, parts of it replaying at the most annoying times. Like when Casey and I were having breakfast or right now, while Auggie is staring at me.

“Aren’t you going to read my essay?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“What’s up with you today? Too much caffeine. Not enough caffeine? Do you want another?”

I nod and read while he goes to the counter to order. The essay isn’t outstanding, but he seems to have grasped the concepts I’ve been teaching him. He’s made a reasonable argument backed up with evidence. I get my pen out to circle a couple of things he’s got wrong and underline spelling mistakes.

He puts our drinks on the table and sits opposite me. “You look like a teacher. I could see you as a university professor.”

I peer at him over his essay. “A stuffy professor?”

He laughs. “Well, that depends.”

“On?”

“How much fun you like to have.” He loops one leg over the other and drinks his frappé.

I stare at the way his lips pucker around the thick green straw. What would he look like with his lips around— Oh, god, I shouldn’t be having thoughts like that. I shift position as heat flushes my face.

Auggie arches an eyebrow. “Either my essay is amazing, or you’re having naughty thoughts.”

My face gets hotter.

“Do you want to be a lecturer?”

I point at myself. “Me?”

He laughs and looks around. “Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?”

I shrug. “No. I want to work in research and development.”

He bounces his foot and looks out the window. “Dad would like you.”