Page 12 of Show Me 1

Clicking to end the video, I set my phone by my foot and reached into my backpack for the wet wipes I kept stashed there to clean myself up. After almost getting caught over the summer at the U’s track and having to outrun one of the coaches hollering at me, I’d come up with a whole system for filming days: I carried wipes, lube if I needed some extra squish, an extra tee, and baseball cap in my bag in case I needed a quick change. And I always kept my backpack right beside me so I could snatch it up fast.

Once I got myself back in order, I raced toward Ryan Hall where my first class was. I’d have to wait until after class to rewatch the video so I could make sure everything was kosher and then upload it.

I pondered a caption as I hoofed it up the stairs.

“Yo, Sam-I-am!” Cam flagged a wave in my direction and sped up to catch up with me when I sent him a wave in return. “Where you heading?”

“Statistics and I’m pushing it. You?”

“I’m free right now.” He pulled open the door for me. “Hey, I wanted to ask you about something.”

“What’s up?” I snuck a glance at the clock on my phone. Shit, his timing was awful, but Cam was a good dude. He’d only recently returned to campus after spending some time in rehab. He’d overdosed on pills sophomore year, been yanked out of school by his parents, and rehab had put him a year behind schedule. I knew he was struggling to figure out how to fit back into college life, and I didn’t want to be that guy who ditched him as a friend just because he’d dropped out of the fraternity.

“I was thinking…ah shit, I’m just going to put it out there. It’s probably a long shot, but I know you guys have that extra empty room. I’ve been living by myself, and the rent’s pretty steep and—” Cam cringed. “I dunno, seemed like it could be a good solution for everyone?”

I gestured that he should let go of the door and stepped out of the way of traffic. We waited for some people to pass around us. “You think that would be good for your sobriety, though? I mean no one’s doing drugs or anything, but there’s usually booze in the house.”

Cam sucked on his lower lip and puffed out his cheeks. “Yeah, I know, but alcohol’s not my drug of choice. I mean, I don’t drink now either, but it’s not a temptation. I’ve been sober almost a year now. I go to meetings and shit. Have a sponsor and…” He sank back against the wall, his voice growing quieter. “It’s pretty boring at my place. Lonely, kinda. I just thought maybe…” His gaze flicked up to meet mine. “Fuck, I guess that sounds ridiculous.”

His hopeful expression was killing me. “I’d be glad to have you, and I’ll bet Jesse and Ansel would be cool with it, too. They’re mellow. But Mark—”

Cam nodded, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Yeah, I know.”

Cam had been Mark’s roommate in the frat house sophomore year, and Mark had been the one to find him near comatose. On top of that, there was some dicey history between Cam and Mark’s boyfriend, Chet, that I didn’t fully understand and honestly didn’t want to.

“Maybe you should talk to Mark,” I suggested.

“Oh yeah, totally. I just figured I’d start at the easiest place.” He smiled wanly. “You’ve always been really cool to me. I really appreciate that.”

I punched his shoulder lightly. “How about this: you mention it to Mark yourself first, then message me and let me know, and I’ll talk to him, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Damn, thanks, man.” His grin about split his face in half. “And if it doesn’t work out, that’s cool, too. Just…” He shook his head when he trailed off. “Thanks. For real.”

I watched him bound happily down the stairs and then flung open the door, racing inside toward the lecture hall and relieved to find a bunch of students still milling around outside it.

4

Jesse

I’d switched from trigonometry to statistics at the last minute for fall semester because it worked better with my schedule to satisfy the one math credit I was missing. But I was totally dreading it. I’d heard Professor Horton was a bore, and statistics wasn’t my strong suit in the first place.

As I shuffled toward the door, my mood brightened at all the eye candy milling around. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad after all. Big, brawny, built guys moved toward the entrance, almost as if a quarter of the football team had…ah, hell. Itwasa quarter of the football team.

“Jesse!” Sam lifted his hand and flashed me a huge grin. He had the best grin. Glowing and so sincere in its high wattage that even when I was trying to avoid him, it was hard not to smile back. “You didn’t say you were taking this class.”

Fuckballs. Okay, look him in the eye. Don’t look down.“I wasn’t until a half hour ago.” The back of my neck heated faster than my Instant Pot as the memory of Sam’s big hand shuttling up and down his cock flashed to the forefront of my mind unbidden.

He gestured me through the door, then squeezed past someone else, keeping in step beside me and pausing at the same time I did to survey the seats. “You want to sit with us?”

“Um.” My gaze skimmed over Sam’s shoulders and landed on another pair I knew far better. Or used to. Reid acknowledged me with a lift of his chin. I shook my head at Sam. “I’ve actually got some friends up front I’m gonna sit with, but thanks. See you later.” I brushed past them and headed toward the front of the hall, doing some quick calculations because I’d been lying through my teeth.

I didn’t see a single familiar face, and paranoia convinced me that I was being watched to test the veracity of my tall tale, so I made a hasty decision and plunked down in the seat next to a guy with dark hair and glasses.

“Hi. This is statistics, right?”