Page 6

6

Caleb

September

E ven if Stella Café’s probably the most popular coffee shop near campus, working here’s pretty chill. The manager doesn’t micromanage us and doesn’t really care if we’re running late. If anyone has to miss a shift, the other baristas often offer to cover for them. Yeah, the lines are long and the shop’s usually filled to the brim, but the people here are great.

I work four times a week on the evening shift and picked up shit quickly. I’m brilliant like that.

The girl I share a shift with, Jessie, is a student athlete like me—track, I think. She’s hilarious, fun, gets along well with the customers, and has a cute smile. I’d probably be into her if I were… well, into girls.

Annoyingly, I wonder if I were into girls, would I be suffering from such a dumb dry spell? Few guys on Flair, my hookup app, catch my interest, and on the handful of times I’ve matched with someone, our conversations fell flat. I don’t really feel like meeting up with just anyone, if even just chatting with them bores me the fuck out.

The most amusing match I’ve made so far was Schultz , and the only reason I swiped right was because I recognized the tattoo on his hip. He swiped right on me too, and the first thing I messaged was, “It’s Caleb. Don’t hit on me, just recognized your ugly ass tattoo is all.”

He replied with, “Likewise, bitch. I recognized your ugly ass piercings.”

Fuck him. My piercings are hot.

Schultz isn’t my type, though I like how he’s not apologetic about himself. He wants what he wants, and when I joked about him being a fuckboy, he didn’t even deny it—just said that I was bitter because I couldn’t find anyone to hook up with.

And he’s right.

As much as I want to get laid, my pickiness is my downfall.

Yeah, I don’t mind casual hookups, which is what almost everyone on this app is looking for—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to subject myself to people with no personalities.

I already get enough of that from my amazing roommate.

Who, by the way… totally not as straight as he thinks he is. I’ve caught him staring at me more than once. That guy confuses me so much. He’s the hardest person to get a read on, and I’m not even sure why that bugs me.

“I know that sound,” Jessie says with a laugh, waggling her eyebrows at me. She stops on the other side of the counter, mop in hand. We’re currently closing, and I’d love to get out of here soon, though at least the company isn’t so bad. “That’s a notification from Flair, the queer dating app, right? My roommate uses it, too.”

“People actually use this for dating?”

“Fine, let’s call it what it is. It’s a hookup app.” Jessie laughs again, flicking her blonde hair behind hear ear. Cocking her head, she asks, “What’s your type?”

“Cute guys.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Ohhh. Shit, and I was about to ask you out.”

“We wouldn’t work out, anyway. You have horrible taste in music.”

She sticks her tongue out at me, and I smile at her—an actual, genuine smile. One that I rarely hand out.

Jessie and I continue to clean up, though I break the silence after a while and say, “You seem cool. I didn’t think you’d be single.”

“That’s sweet of you,” she says, voice suddenly soft. “I had a boyfriend, but he dumped me a few weeks ago.”

“He’s a dumbass, then. Why?”

“I don’t know. He just texted and said it was over, then ghosted me. No explanation or anything, as if we haven’t been together for an entire year.”

That makes me scowl. “What the hell?”

She nods at me, her face solemn. Jessie’s expression breaks my heart. Whoever this guy is, he certainly did a number on her.

Once we’re done cleaning up, we grab our bags, shut off all the lights, and head out.

“Where do you stay?” I ask. “I’ll walk you back.”

“I’m heading to the library. Need to work on some stuff first.”

“It’s nine p.m.!”

She whistles. “The life of a student athlete.”

“True. It’s fine, I’ll walk you to the library. It’s on the way to my dorm, anyway.”

We chat about her classes as we walk. She also invites me to a party that weekend, saying that I’d have a better chance of meeting someone there instead of on an app. She makes a good point, and I’m just about to ask her for the details when I see a familiar figure walking in our direction.

In a team jacket and with his dark hair falling over his eyes, Nick’s got his full attention on his phone and hasn’t noticed me.

“Hey, Nicky!” I call out. Beside me, Jessie stops in her tracks. Nick looks up and blinks at me, then his gaze darts to Jessie, and he immediately flushes.

Huh.

“You know each other?” I ask, glancing between them.

Jessie sucks in a breath and recomposes herself, then she strides up to Nick. Confused, I walk up beside her, watching how Nick shoves his hands in his pockets and gives her one of his aggravatingly forced smiles.

“Are you still ignoring me?” Jessie asks, though her voice isn’t angry. It just seems hurt.

Nick’s eyebrows clash together, and he shakes his head. “I’m not avoiding you.”

“You literally ghosted me, Nick. You won’t answer any of my calls. Even the guys at the café say you only come over when I’m not on my shift. I haven’t gone to your dorm because I wanted to give you your space, but this is ridiculous. You at least owe me an explanation.”

Oh.

Ohhhhh.

It all finally clicks in my head.

Nick’s the guy who ghosted Jessie after a year of dating.

Well, how about that?

As if remembering that I’m here, Nick glances at me and grimaces. “I don’t want to talk right now, Jessie.”

“Why? Because Caleb’s here?”

I cock my head. Okay, I should go—and I’m just about to do that when Nick says, plainly, “I don’t want to talk at all.”

Whoa. The only reason I don’t call him feisty again is because of how Jessie’s face falls.

“All right, this has been great, but I’m going to go now.” I give them both a grin and get the hell out of there.

***

I make it back to the dorm in record time, changing into something much more comfortable and crashing into my bed. I wonder if Nick and Jessie actually ended up talking? Not that it’s any of my business.

Why would he ghost Jessie like that, though? She’s amazing. I’ve never been into girls, but if I were, I think I’d ask Jessie out.

The look on Nick’s face when he told her he didn’t want to talk… I don’t think I’ve ever seen that on him before. The smile he had disappeared in half a second as if he couldn’t keep up with the act, and his jaw clenched tightly, and his eyes were the coldest I’ve ever seen.

I might have made it my life’s mission to get on his nerves, and on the few times his actual personality slips through, it feels like whiplash. I don’t know what happened between him and Jessie and why he ghosted her, but I saw it again—that moment where the real him surfaced.

The quiet anger in his expression was… okay, it was hot. The fuck is wrong with me? I replay the image in my head and my damn dick twitches because it’s a traitor and has a mind of its own. Getting turned on by my teammate slash roommate who I can’t stand? A terrible fucking idea.

Scowling, I take my phone out and doomscroll through my hookup app. I so badly need to get laid.

The door opens and Nick, my living nightmare, comes in. I bend a knee and cross my leg over it, not really fascinated with the idea of him seeing my semi. Nick spares me a quick glance as he takes his jacket off and hangs it over his chair.

It hasn’t even been ten minutes since I left him with Jessie, and because I have no fucking self-restraint, I quip, “I’m guessing you two didn’t actually talk?”

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please stop.”

“I literally can’t because you’re making my brain hurt. She’s really sweet and I can’t tell why you’d ghost her for no reason.”

He ignores me.

“I can’t figure you out at all,” I mutter.

“Why do you need to?”

“Because you’ve got everything and you don’t care. Money, but you’re staying in this cramped dorm instead of renting a place somewhere. The option to go to the NHL, but you don’t care about that. An amazing girlfriend, but you dumped her for no apparent reason. You’re a fucking conundrum.”

Then there’s me—who has to get a part-time job, whose stats aren’t as good as his despite getting drafted by the Buffalo Jets, and who can’t even get a decent lay.

“I’m leaving,” he blurts. His jaw ticks, and I realize he’s trying to hold his reaction in again, making my eyebrows shoot up.

“Did I offend you?” I ask mockingly.

“Nah.” He flashes me a smile, and I resist the urge to lunge at him.

Gritting my teeth, I swing my legs over the bed and stand, thankful that my semi’s all gone. All it needed to disappear was to have a conversation with the most infuriating person to ever exist.

Who, ironically, was the reason for the semi to begin with.

I hiss, “I told you to stop smiling at me like that.”

“Like this?” he asks, pointing at his mouth. He deepens his smile.

Don’t punch him. Don’t punch him.

“God, fuck off,” I grumble. His stupid smile wavers for a fraction and his jaw ticks. “Just go. I get it, golden boy. Nobody’s good enough for you, not even Jessie. You’re a mess. You strung her along for fun and then decided she’s not good enough for you—”

He suddenly closes the space between us and reaches for me, and it’s so sudden and unlike him, I don’t even have the time to react. Nick wraps long fingers around my throat and squeezes it, his eyes hardening.

Show me the real you, golden boy. I can’t help but smirk. Jesus, I need help.

“She cheated on me,” he grits out. His thumb bears down on my pulse and my stupid dick twitches. The hold he has on me isn’t tight enough to choke me or even to hurt me, simply steady and firm. “I was going to surprise her at a party, and I found her on someone’s lap, tongue-fucking him.”

My shoulders drop. “Oh.”

For a long moment, we only stand there—with him gripping my throat, and me staring blankly at him.

And when reality seems to hit him, Nick winces.

He drops his hand and flushes. “Sorry. Shit. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

No idea why he’s apologizing, because anyone else would have done way worse to me by now. Still stunned and honestly a lot turned on, I hold my throat and let my hand linger where he touched me.

“She cheated on you,” I repeat dryly.

“Yes. A few weeks ago. I texted her and broke it off then.”

“Why doesn’t she know why you broke it off?”

“Who knows? Maybe she doesn’t know I saw her.”

God, he’s giving me a headache. “So tell her.”

Nick, who apparently forgot he was leaving, exhales and plops down on the edge of his bed. He scrubs a hand over his face and says, “Why’s it on me to tell her she cheated on me? Besides, what’s the point? I don’t want to talk to her. If she…” His voice trails off.

“What?”

“If she apologized and asked to get back together, I’d probably say yes, which is a bad idea.”

“Of course it’s a bad idea. Why would you even want to forgive her for that? Cheating’s despicable.” I give him a look of disbelief. “You can’t possibly be thinking of forgiving her.”

“Even if I don’t get back together with her, is what she did really that despicable? She was drunk, and she made a mistake—”

“Holy fuck, stop defending her.”

Nick’s eyes glaze over, and he stares at the floor for a long time.

“Nick,” I say. “What she did was not okay. Nothing good comes out of cheating and you need to know that. Do not get back together with her.”

“I won’t. Don’t worry.”

I sit on my bed as well, grabbing a pillow and dragging it over my lap to hide my boner. I don’t know how to feel about the fact that we’re having an actual conversation. Even if I was the one who pushed for it.

“Huh. That explains quite a bit, I guess,” I say after a long silence.

He huffs a smile, and strangely, it doesn’t irritate me. It doesn’t look like he’s forcing it this time around. “I know. I’m pathetic. You happy now? I’m sorry I choked you.”

“Barely felt it,” I lie. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Nick snorts and shakes his head. “You’re insane.”

I definitely am, as proven by my traitorous dick. I decide feelings time—which I enforced, thank me very much—is over. My phone buzzes and I take it out, and my hookup app says I matched with someone.

Hopefully, it’s not another dud, and I send him a quick message.

Nick’s moving around a lot as if he’s restless, and I eye him when he opens his desk drawer and pulls out a Switch.

Cool.

“You have Mario Party?” I ask.

He looks around the room as if I could possibly be asking anyone else. Then he settles those big, surprised eyes on me. “Yeah. You want to play?”

“Yeah.”

His face splits into a wide grin, which catches me completely off-guard. Nick seems way too excited when he sets up the Switch for a multiplayer game, as if he’s never played with another human being in his life.

What a dork. It’s kind of cute, though.

Not that I’d ever admit that out loud.