Page 59 of Want Me
“Were he and Cam hooking up?”
“I don’t think so, but I honestly have no idea. Chet’s never said anything that would make me think they were. What’s with the line of questioning?”
“I dunno, just curious, I guess. Something about the way Mark was talking about it…” I trailed off. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I can still get Chet’s number for you if you want it,” Eric teased, and I kicked him under the covers as he steamrolled me. “But he’ll have to get through me first.”
* * *
A couple of weeks later,I sat in the chapter room at the fraternity house zoning out through the discussion of our next mixer, some upcoming community service event, and a couple of pledges who’d been ordered to stand and recite our creed on the pain of toilet duty.
Shortly after my outburst with Mark and Jesse, things had thankfully settled back into the usual pattern of classes, studying, and partying, with the addition that now 80 percent of nights ended up with me in Eric’s bed, sometimes him in mine if I’d gotten home first. Or I’d meet him at the library, the gym, the cafeteria. Okay, maybe it was a little different. We spent a shit ton of our free time together, and even now I was bouncing my knee ready to get the hell out of this meeting and go grab something to eat with him, maybe let him boss me around a little bit to get me out of my head about upcoming finals before Christmas break.
Though I hadn’t explicitly said anything to Ansel, someone had clued him in, because he’d stopped us as we’d headed out of the house the other day to say, “No fucking in my bedroom.”
Eric had given him a devilish grin. “You live here? I had no idea. What’s your name?”
Ansel arched an imperious brow and then narrowed his eyes. “Or my bathroom.”
I snapped my teeth at that, and Ansel shoved me, cracking up. “I’m serious.” Guess he’d overheard Eric lighting me up in the hall bath the other morning—though I thought we’d been pretty quiet. I mean, I had, seeing as how I’d had a washcloth stuffed in my mouth. We’d been feeling a little adventurous.
“I never use your bathroom,” I’d said drolly. “Ringworm sucks.”
And then we’d all just gone on as usual. For all that Mark had thought Jesse was pissed, he must have gotten over it quickly, because a few days after my announcement in the caf, he was happily eating lunch with me and Eric and chattering on about some course he was excited to take next semester because he thought the professor was hot.
I crashed back into awareness as Jason, our president, said something about discrimination. Blinking into focus, I listened as he read from our handbook. “We do not discriminate on the basis of race, creed, color, national origin, religion, disability, or sexual orientation.”
The fire in my cheeks was instantaneous as he droned monotonously through the rest of the passage. It wasn’t anger necessarily, and it wasn’t even all embarrassment. It was just the awareness that I was probably the cause of this reminder, since I didn’t recall him ever reading it during a meeting before. I felt center stage even if no one else had a clue why Jason was mentioning it or who he was referring to.
It wasn’t like there weren’t gay or bi dudes in frats. There were. There just weren’t any in mine. That I knew about, at least. We were the jock frat, the one known for brutal hell weeks and whispered hazing practices, most of which were true. And, if I was being honest, probably the dicks. I mean, every frat had a rep for something, even if it wasn’t entirely true, even if there were jocks in the geeky frats or vice versa. I shot a look over at Mark, noting the strain in his expression, the color that suddenly flooded his cheeks.That motherfucker.He gave a sharp, short shake of his head, and I didn’t know whether to read that as a denial or an apology.
“Did I miss something?” Alex, another junior, piped up.
“Nope. Just a reminder.” Jason flipped the book closed, and maybe it was subliminal that his eyes darted toward me, then away again, but it felt like some kind of signal.
“Pierce tried to blow me last night,” Sam joked, and Pierce lifted his middle finger to him in reply as everyone cracked up. The dude was already engaged to the same girl he’d come to college with. He was more married than my own parents at this point.
“It’s cool. I got Nate to do it, instead.” Sam angled a goofy brow waggle at me.
Fucking perfect. My skin was flaming, and adrenaline pumped through me, its telltale prickle rushing over my armpits, the back of my neck.
I thought of Eric’s hand on me, the slow, sweeping way he touched me sometimes, and as quick as the anxiety had come I felt it recede, a sense of calm descending. “The cock in my mouth last night actually hit the back of my throat and gagged the shit out of me, so I know it wasn’t yours.” Okay, maybe I laced a little stinger of a size dig there on the end, but that was what we did. What Iwasn’tdoing was panicking, even when Sam gave a strained chuckle that faded quickly into oppressive silence. No one knew what to say, I guess. Least of all me. But I was two for two now, so why not knock the mortar out of what had always felt like the highest wall to me?
“Shit, are you serious, dude?” Sam’s lips peeled back from his teeth in a visible cringe. “Sorry, man. For real, though?”
“Is it going to be a problem?” I let my gaze stray from his expression to the faces around me, not really seeing any of them but hell-bent on making sure they all knew they were included in the question. “Because I can leave. I’m dead-ass serious. I know we all razz the fuck out of each other, but if anyone actually has an issue with what kind of equipment the person I’m with is sporting, I’m out, and I won’t even be mad about it. But I sure as shit am not going to stick around for hostility—low-key or otherwise. So speak up, or take a fucking vote or something.” Once again, I was sure I could have been smoother or more diplomatic about it, but at least this time my voice came out even and neutral rather than frantic.
Sam lifted his hands in a no-harm gesture. “It’s not a problem for me, dude, we’re good. I was totally just messing around. And apologies for really fucking bad timing.”
I nodded as Jason tossed the handbook aside and looked around from his perch behind the front table, then took his ball cap off his head and set it on the edge of the desk before inclining his chin at Marty. “Grab some paper and pencils. Y for issues, N for no issues. I know what the policy says, but Nate wants real, and I don’t blame him, so don’t bullshit. If you’ve got a problem, say so and give him the option.”
Marty walked the room with the slips of paper and jar of pencils, and one by one, the guys stuck their folded slips in the hat. I thought I’d feel more anxious, more strung-out or emotional. I’d built this moment up so much in my head that it seemed completely improbable that I was as calm as I was. Maybe it was all the time I’d spent with Eric lately, maybe it was the way I felt about him that made the things that’d seemed like such colossal hurdles when we first got together more like nuisances now. I’d loved being a part of this fraternity, but I was ready to move on if I had to. And I was entirely okay with that.
Jason went through the papers quickly, discarding them on top of the table, then glanced up at me. “No issues.” Relief flooded my chest like the end of a balloon let go all at once. It felt as heavy as the threat of tears, in spite of how ready I’d been to walk out of there. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Cool.”
After the meeting adjourned, Sam trotted up to me as I headed down the hall toward the front door. “Sorry, again. Are we good, for real?” He shifted on his feet as I stopped and faced him.
“Yeah, it’s fine. No sweat.”