Out in the Offense (Out in College 3)

“He’ll be here.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“ ’Cause I bet he’s got as big a crush on you as you have on him. Don’t bother denying it. We wouldn’t be here at all if you didn’t have it bad for your tutor. I can’t wait to be formally introduced.” Max waggled his eyebrows lasciviously before reaching for the kamikaze he’d ordered from the skinny bartender.

“Max…”

He let out a half laugh and rolled his eyes. “I’ll be good. If he doesn’t show up, let’s find someone else for you. How about that guy?”

I discreetly turned to see who he was referring to and shrugged. “He’s cute.”

“Hmm. And he’s staring at you.”

“So?”

“What does ‘so’ mean? Go introduce yourself.” He motioned for me to get moving.

“No, thanks. I’m a bad flirt.”

“That’s true. Oh, my God, I’ll never forget the time you asked that hottie at the frat party what kind of toothpaste he used ’cause his teeth were so white. Classic!” Max threw his head back and laughed at the not-so-distant memory.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to get my ass kicked if he wasn’t like us and…whatever. That was embarrassing.” I swiped his drink from his hand and took a swig.

“He thought it was funny.”

“So did his girlfriend.”

Max snorted. “True, and—oh! That’s gotta be him. You said muscles, tats, and totally hunky, right? He’s talking to the bartender, fist bump, checkin’ out the scenery and…he’s looking this way. Dude, you undersold the tutor. He’s fucking hot.”

I twisted sideways, aware of my suddenly erratic heartbeat as I searched the crowd. I gulped nervously when I spotted him pushing through the crowded bar to reach us. Please don’t say anything stupid. Please don’t pass out.

“Funny running into you here,” Rory drawled.

His eyes glinted with ready humor, crinkling at the corners. Max was right. He looked sexy as hell. He wore a snug army-green T-shirt that hugged his muscular arms and chest, and his jeans fit to perfection. But his appeal went well beyond looks. Rory had a commanding presence; he took up space when he walked into a room. And at a crowded gay club in the heart of La-la land, he probably looked like someone everyone thought they should know.

“Yeah, what are the odds?” I let out a nervous half laugh and quickly introduced him to Max.

I shot a meaningful look that roughly translated to a plea not to say anything embarrassing. Max smirked but gamely exchanged pleasantries over the din of a Lady Gaga mix. When Rory turned back to me, I could have sworn a private cocoon lowered over us, making it seem like we were alone. He was the only one I could see, hear, or smell.

Rory bumped my shoulder playfully. “What are you two drinking? I’ll have Justin get you something.”

I held up the kamikaze in my hand and shook the ice. “This is Max’s but—”

Max hooked his thumb toward the dance floor. “You keep it. I’ll see you out there. Nice to meet you, Rory.” He waved good-bye and stepped away before returning to whisper in my ear. “Have fun. Go home with him. I bet he uses a good toothpaste.”

He kissed my cheek, then disappeared into the throng of gyrating bodies before I could reply. I sipped the kamikaze as I turned to face Rory.

“It feels weird to see you here,” I said lamely.

“I told you I’d come. I’m later than I thought I’d be. Justin needed help moving equipment in my truck. I hope there’s a security guard on duty behind the club. He’s got an expensive amp, a drum set, and five guitars out there. I’m supposed to help him unload after his shift but…I told him I was meeting you first. I have an hour before I have to go. He’s not closing tonight.”

“Which one is Justin?”

“The one with the hippie hair,” Rory replied. “I’ll introduce you later. He looks pretty busy right now.”

I glanced toward the crowded bar and nodded. “Is he in a band?”

“Yeah, sort of. ‘In between bands’ is probably a better way to put it. He broke up with his girlfriend, the lead singer of Gypsy Coma, and then fucked their drummer, who happens to be a guy. She got pissed, threw his stuff out of the studio, and now I’m the U-Haul man.”

“Huh. What are the odds of two brothers being bi?”

“Probably higher than you’d think,” he quipped before giving me a thorough once-over. “You look hot.”

“Thanks. So do you. It seems weird to see you in LA. You belong at that table by the window at Starbucks.”

Rory chuckled low and deep. My fingers itched to trace the creases at the corner of his eyes. “Starbucks?”

“Yeah. Did you ever run into one of your teachers at the market or the movie theater when you were a kid and think something felt out of place? I was at Albertson’s with my mom once, and we ran into Mrs. Joachim in the produce section. So weird. I thought she lived in my third-grade classroom. I had to pretend she was on a field trip to make the pieces fit. It was traumatic.”