Page 52 of Love and History

Jordan poked me in the ribs. “They’re getting along well. Is he single?”

Absolutely not, I thought. “I don’t know,” I said.

“He’s positively delicious.”

I frowned. “He’s not a dessert.”

Jordan snorted, whispering, “Oh, yes, he is.”

“Quit ogling our volunteers,” Val chided without heat. “Speaking of which…over a dozen newbies showed up tonight. We had a few return helpers and a couple of students hoping for extra credit. Are any of you offering such a thing?”

Winston and Jordan raised their hands. They both taught English at a local community college and frequently sought out student HRS volunteers who were looking for a grade boost. Something I wasn’t able to offer.

I glanced over at Ezra again and shook my head. “Sorry, that’s still against school policy for me. Do we need more volunteers?”

Val tapped her pen on her notepad. “No, I think we’re set. Last item before we move on—as much as I love the dunk tank idea, it’s too expensive. We have a lead on a possible influx of cash from a donor with big pockets, but nothing concrete yet. Thankfully, Henry the Eighth has graciously agreed to take a pie or two in the face…for free. Thank you, sir.”

The group cheered Ezra when he wandered forward, pumping his right fist in the air while clutching a large slice of pizza with the other.

“Anything for science. I mean, history,” he said, catching my eye.

“Love that attitude,” Val gushed. “It’s a fun idea and best of all, it’s inexpensive. If a handful of us assemble whipped-cream pies, it won’t cost more than a few cans of whip cream and ready-made pie crust.”

“I’ll do it,” Ezra and I replied in unison.

“Thank you, both. Since you’re roommates, that should work out nicely. HRS will reimburse you for supplies and—”

He waved her off. “Nah, it’s on me.”

“Thank you. That’s generous of you.” Val beamed as she stood. “Let’s get to work.”

I helped pull the chairs offstage and waited for Ezra’s fan club to finish fawning before I approached.

“Let me get this straight…you’re going to purchase the pies that our patrons will throw at you?”

“Yeah, why not? If I’m taking this on the chin, I might bake a couple of lemon merengues. I fuckin’ hate whipped cream.” He grimaced, popping the last bite of his pizza into his mouth.

“You’regoing to bake? Do you know how? Do you have time? I don’t know how. I don’t have time.” My glasses slipped when I furrowed my brow. I pushed them up and stepped closer to him, continuing in a rush. “Did you look at the new Shakespeare quotes I sent you? Did you memorize any lines? When you say you’ll move out of the house slowly, what does that mean? Bed first, then clothes? Or clothes first, then bed? And is your boss still trying to set you up with his daughter…who happens to be my student?”

Ezra widened his eyes incredulously. “Someone’s crazy meter is running on fumes.”

I let out a ragged breath. “I know. I think it was the bagel.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. I just…want to climb you like a tree, and I don’t think I like this feeling,” I grumbled.

“I don’t think you mind that part. What you don’t like is feeling out of control. Relax. It’s gonna be fine.” He skimmed his thumb along the side of my hand.

It wasn’t a seductive maneuver, but my cock didn’t get the memo. It swelled against my zipper, sending a tingle along my spine. Why was that sexy? Why did I want to hook my legs around him and shamelessly rub myself all over him?

I pulled my hand away. “Right.”

“By the way, the answer is no to Mallory, but yes to everything else. Baking, time, quotes…as for moving, I don’t have a plan.” He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “You’re going to miss me, huh?”

Yes, I was.

“No,” I lied.