When I’d seen his phone, it had been the perfect excuse to see him again and check to see if he was okay. He was too freaked-out about staying out all night to get a feel for if he was on the same page as me. The sex was hot—I wanted to do it again—but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something else there. Something I wanted to explore and see if it could be more.
Then that word hit me like a ton of bricks.
Friends.
It makes sense. He said the night of the reunion he can’t date me, yet that completely slipped my mind while I was eating him out on my couch.
I shudder again as I shoulder inside Bean There to get the strongest coffee I can buy.
I slept like shit last night because I hadn’t washed the sheets since West came over, and all I could smell was him and sex, which wasn’t a great combination when I was trying to convince myself that I needed to avoid him.
Christmas break is coming up, and if I can make it until then without seeing him, I won’t have to worry about West until next year, and by then, this small niggle of feelings will have passed.
West does need friends, and it would be nice to be able to offer him that if only I can get over myself.
I’m standing, waiting for my order, when a sea of navy-and-silver jackets explodes through the front door of the café. A pair of familiar green eyes sends that punch of nerves to my gut, but then my brain catches up.
Asher and West look ridiculously alike. They share features, the same color hair, and vivid eyes. But Asher radiates defensiveness, wears his anger like a crown, whereas West feels like … I remember the man who needed a hug and quickly turn away.
Damn it.
And of course, Asher is in my class today. Perfect.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
It’s a good thing for me that the hockey arena and math department aren’t close on campus, and before recently, seeing West around was rare. My avoiding tactic works during the week, not because of my ninja skills, but because we’re both busy and rarely cross paths.
Dave shows up Wednesday afternoon, and he’s barely through the door of my office when I say, “I saw West again.”
His footsteps stall, and a slow smile takes over his face. “Please tell me this time I get details.”
“No details other than me being a total fuckup.” I give Dave the PG version of what happened. “And then he dropped the f-word on me.”
“Ohh, friends?”
I laugh at him knowing exactly what I mean. “Why am I so pathetic?”
“Pathetic?”
“I get bullied by hockey players and then hook up with one and start to catch feelings.”
“Another perspective?”
I roll my eyes. “Is there another one?”
“Yes. Mine. Which is that Westly isn’t just a ‘hockey player’ but a good person, and it’s totally fair to fall for someone like that.”
“You sound like a daytime special. And I’m not falling for him, as much as you might want me to be. The possibility was definitely there though.” I stop my mood from taking a dive like it has over the past few days. I was softening toward him, so it’s a good thing he set me straight when he did. Obviously.
Now if only I could fast-forward through the moping about it part.
“So what are you going to do now?” he asks.
I rub my chin as I think. “It’s the holiday season. Surely there are enough men in Burlington looking to numb holiday depression with cheap hookups. I should get by just fine.”
“Your solution is to get some strange?”
“Don’t say strange.”
He shrugs. “You still doing Christmas and New Year’s Eve with us?”
“Yep. You’re my adoptive dads when I can’t get to Florida to see my snowbird parents.”
“Watch it with the dad shit. Unless you’re gonna call one of us Daddy.”
“Fuck off.”
He laughs and then eyes me for a second. “Well, I’ll have some single friends at the party if you’re serious about hooking up. You’ll have the pick of the bunch, a handsome man like you.”
“Thanks,” I say dryly. It’s a better option than an app, but before I go there, I’ll be making sure I won’t have to see any of them again afterward. “Drinks tonight?”
“Yes. A lot of them. Greg is going to meet us.”
“Perfect. I love being a third wheel.”
“A third wheel for what?” I jolt at the familiar deep voice and turn to where West is leaning in my open doorway. And like always, he looks good. Wind-ruffled hair, cheeks pink from the cold.
“Drinks tonight,” Dave helpfully adds.
West eyes me. “Do I need to knock first, Professor?”
“Well, you already eavesdropped on a private conversation. So I’d say we’re past the point of politeness, wouldn’t you?”