I roll my eyes at him, even though I’m secretly pleased. That time, it actually sounded like a compliment.
We work through our schedule of participants, my armpits perspiring the closer it gets to the last appointment—Brad’s allotted time. But the time comes and goes with no Brad.
We take advantage of the break while waiting for him to review notes for Motivation, not that I can concentrate much knowing we might have to drop him from the study.
Tyler is quizzing me when a phone in the lab rings. “We have a phone?” I ask, glancing around.
“Apparently.” He spots it on top of the filing cabinet and answers it, shrugging his shoulders at me.
I’ve looked at that cabinet a million times. How have I never noticed the phone?
I shamelessly listen to his side of the conversation, but can’t glean any answers from his one-word responses.
“Well?” I ask when he hangs up.
“Brad’s out of the study.”
I sit up, at attention. “What? What did he say? Was it because of us? Is he blaming me? Or you? It was probably me, wasn’t it? I should have just gone out with him—”
“Mia,” he interrupts me. “I don’t know the reason, okay? That was Dr. Price. Apparently, Brad emailed him and said he couldn’t continue the study anymore. That’s it.”
I exhale a breath. “It had to be because of what happened here, right?”
He turns away, opening the cabinet and filing the questionnaires participants turned in today. “Who cares? He solved the problem for us.”
I cross my arms, hugging them to my chest. “I care. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”
“It’s over with.” He stuffs the papers into the folders with more force than necessary. “This is why we put extra people in the study. Someone always drops out for one reason or another.” He slams the drawer shut when he’s finished, hard enough to startle me. “And now we don’t have to see him ever again.”
The way he says it, eyes flashing, makes me think it means more to him than just about the study.
I pick up a pen off the desk, twirling it around in my fingers. “I never liked him, you know. Romantically, I mean.”
He doesn’t say anything, just stands there by the filing cabinet, his face set in a dark expression.
“In case you were wondering.” I set the pen down, feeling a little foolish.
“Okay.” He shrugs, like it means nothing to him, but I swear I see relief pass over his features briefly. He walks over and zips up his backpack, but doesn’t put it on.
“Would you really have gone out with him?” he asks, staring at his bag.
“What? Oh, no, I was just freaking out a little.”
He nods, looking like he’s choosing his next words wisely. “You shouldn’t ever feel like you have to go out with a guy to make him comfortable. Fuck guys that are told no and can’t accept it like a man.”
“What if I told you no?” The thought escapes me unbidden. Why would I even say that?
He swallows. “No big deal.” He shrugs again, nonchalantly shouldering his backpack. He walks to the door, placing his hand on the knob but doesn’t turn it. “Are you telling me no? That you want to stop things?”
“No,” I rush to say. “I’m not saying that at all. I—I like what we’re doing.”
I want more than anything for him to say I like it too or I don’t want to stop, either.
But he doesn’t.
He just nods again, then exits.
I don’t know why I expected something different, though.
Chapter Fourteen
Tyler
“How’s your research study going?” Mom asks, taking a bite of the cheesy broccoli casserole she made for dinner.
Next to me, Riley carefully picks out the bits of broccoli, setting them on the napkin on her lap.
“It’s good. Mia and I are getting the results we want.”
“Does something bad happen if they aren’t what you expect?” Dan asks around a mouthful.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I can only imagine what Mom would say. He’s trying to take an interest. Don’t ignore him.
“Nothing will happen. We’ll publish the results regardless of the outcome. Our hypothesis will just be wrong.”
“You’ve mentioned Mia before,” Mom says casually. A little too casually.
I spear a piece of broccoli and make sure Riley sees me eat it. She recoils in disgust.
“You keep asking about the study,” I tell Mom. “Considering she’s my partner, I have to mention her.”
“What’s she like?”
I take another bite, stuffing my face full of cheesy noodles, but she patiently waits for my answer.
What does she want me to say about Mia? She sucks dick really well? She made me lose my mind going down on her? “She’s… just a girl. We don’t have time to speak to each other in between participants.”
Technically not a lie. Mom doesn’t know that we talk plenty before and after sessions in the lab, at her apartment, at the gym…
“Why don’t you invite her to my party Saturday? It’ll give you a chance to get to know each other better.”
This time I do roll my eyes. “Mom, she’s not going to want to come to some random birthday party. She doesn’t even know you.”
She frowns, actually appearing hurt at my words.
Dan steps in, trying to smooth things over. “Just invite her. Your brothers are both bringing girls.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I grit out, shooting him a nasty look. Do I need to spell it out for his thick skull?
“Well, then just as a friend. You never bring anyone over.”
Yeah, because I don’t want them to meet you.
I stay silent, watching Riley continue to masterfully avoid her broccoli with every bite until her plate is clear, her napkin filled to the brim with bits of green. She wads it up tightly in her fist, declaring, “I’m finished. Can I play with Tyler now?”
Dan looks at her fondly. “Honey, he’s twenty-one. I doubt he wants to play—”
“Come on, squirt.” I stand and grab both our plates, heading into the kitchen to rinse them off.
Riley skips off to her bedroom to set up whatever game she has in store for me and I hear Dan sigh faintly from the dining room. “I’m never going to get through to him, am I?”
There’s a pause and then Mom says, “Let’s put it in perspective. Things have gotten a lot better since he moved out. Remember how it was when he was a teenager?”
“Oh God, I’ve blacked that out. I still don’t understand how he was so different from his brothers.”
I set the plate I’m holding down carefully. They must think I went in Riley’s room already. And yeah, I got in some trouble as a teen, but they only had to talk to the police one time, big deal.
I sidle nearer to the entryway, not sure why I’m eavesdropping. It’s not like I care at all what they have to say about me. But still…
“For some reason, he won’t let things go,” Mom murmurs, her voice barely audible. I lean in even closer. “He’s easily the most stubborn child of ours.”
“I just don’t know what I can do for him to accept that I’m his dad.”
I nearly laugh out loud before remembering they’re not aware I’m listening. No matter what it says on my birth certificate, I know he’s never wanted to be my father. He made that clear. Brandon and Dylan always came first, then Riley once she came along.
“He still remembers when he was little, the times it was just me and him when the boys were at your house—”
“You were the one who asked me not to include him.”
I brace a hand against the wall. What? I never knew about that.
“I know. I thought having alone time with me would make him feel special, something for just the two of us. I didn’t realize till later how much it isolated him instead.” There’s a sniffing sound, like she’s trying to hold back tears. “It was selfish of me. I
was lonely when Brandon and Dylan were with you.”
I peek around the corner as Dan slides his arm over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up old hurts.”
She wipes at her eyes. “No, it’s my fault. Just… just give him time. I’ll talk with him again—”
“No. I should have done a better job making clear to him how much I love him. He’s my son as much as yours.”
I return to the kitchen sink, my heart pounding. He was… he was probably only putting on an act for Mom. Making himself the martyr. So she’ll take his side over mine. She doesn’t see through him like I do.
I make my way as quietly as I can to Riley’s room, softly shutting the door behind me, and she looks up from her spot on the floor. “Do you want a unicorn or a mermaid?”
She holds up two stencils and I stare at her blankly, my mind still on that conversation. “What?”
“The glitter tattoo kit you got me for Christmas. Which one do you want?”
Oh, yeah. Mom wasn’t happy when Riley unwrapped that. She despises glitter. “Um, whatever you want.”
I sit down next to her on the floor while she applies something to my arm, and I ruminate over everything I overheard. Is it possible they knew I was in the kitchen and it was all an act?
No, that’s too elaborate of a setup. And Mom wouldn’t lie to me like that.
Except, it seems she did. Or withheld information from me, at the very least.
I always thought Dan purposely excluded me from visiting his house. I had no idea that it was Mom that didn’t want me to go. How different would it have been if I had gone with my brothers every weekend to Dan’s? Been in on the inside jokes they had with their dad, went to all the fun places they did.
I wouldn’t have gone back to my room and cried alone after hearing about the exciting baseball game they went to or silently pouted knowing they were off playing laser tag with Dan while I was stuck doing crafts at home with Mom—her idea of fun.
“Okay, you’re all done,” Riley announces, screwing the cap back on a container of blue glitter. I glance down at my arm, knowing I’ll get so much shit about this if anyone sees it. But watching my sister proudly beam at her handiwork, I really can’t care too much about anyone else’s opinions.
“How do I sign in to the computer?”
“Enter your student ID where it says username on the screen.” I don’t even bother looking up from my Geology textbook as I repeat my spiel. It’s only the millionth time I’ve answered the same exact question. Can people seriously not read the directions directly next to each monitor?
“Tyler?” the voice asks, and I finally look up from my spot at the help desk in the campus computer lab. “I thought that was you.” The pretty brunette smiles, trailing a finger down the open neckline of her shirt, drawing my attention to the area. I find myself looking, just like she wanted, then snap my eyes back up to hers, her smile wider now.
“Hey…” I’m drawing a blank. Did we have a class together or something? Am I supposed to remember her?
Her smile dims when she realizes I don’t recognize her. “We hooked up at that party at Kappa Sigma house freshman year.” She says it with no shame and Oscar looks over at us, mouth open.
“No, I remember you.” I squint, mentally rolodexing freshman year frat parties. I stopped going to them after a while, annoyed every time at nearly everyone there. “Ashley.” She begins to frown and I quickly amend my answer. “No, Ashlynn. A unique name for a unique girl.”
It has to be about the stupidest line I’ve ever said, but her smile returns. She leans across the counter, her cleavage right in my line of sight, and whispers, “You were a fun night. I wouldn’t mind a round two with you. What do you say?”
Oscar’s mouth drops further. I’m tempted to put a finger under his chin and shut it for him, but I resist the urge. I glance around, and thankfully no one else is near enough to hear her proposition. “I’m at work. It’s not really the time or place.”
She sniffs, going stone-cold bitch on me. “Whatever.”
She turns around and outright leaves the computer lab, not even bothering to sign in to a computer like I assume she originally intended.
Oscar sits up in his chair to watch her ass shake in her tight skinny jeans on her way out, then turns to me, aghast. “Did you seriously just turn her down?”
I return to my Geology textbook, impressing into my brain the classifications of sedimentary rocks. I can’t imagine needing to know anything less important in my life, but whatever gets me an A. “I’m at work,” I tell him, just like I told her. “It would be unprofessional.”
“If she had asked me that, I would have left work right now to go do whatever she wants.”
I snort. “No girl is worth risking a job for.”
Isn’t that what I’m doing with Mia, though?
I pause at the thought. Oh, shit. I hadn’t even thought of it like that. Every time we’ve ever done anything in the lab, have I been jeopardizing my study? If it’s unprofessional to just talk about hooking up at work, actually doing it is on a whole other level.
No, that’s different. We’re equals, so… that makes it better somehow?
My position at the Stress Lab is way more important to me than this mediocre work-study job. Shouldn’t I be more careful there?
You know what, it’s not the job, it’s the girl. I have no desire to hook up with Ashlynn again. I don’t do repeats.
Except for Mia.
Damn it. I sink down in my seat, letting Oscar field the next help request. It’s— It’s different with Mia.
Why do I keep coming back to that? There’s nothing different about her. She’s just a girl. Same as all the others.
Despite all the reasons that say otherwise.
“Do you have that girl’s number?” Oscar asks when the guy he was helping finally clears out.
“What?” I look over at him, still lost in my own thoughts. “Ashlynn? No, I never had her number. Besides, that was over two years ago.”
“You don’t have like a little black book?”
“A what?”
“You know, a place you keep the details of all the girls you’ve hooked up with. For when you want a repeat.”
“I don’t do repeats.” That’s what I keep telling myself at least. “I’m not as obsessed with sex as you are.” Except for with Mia. What will it be like to finally sink into her? Have that pretty, pink pussy clenched tight around me, milking me for all she’s worth. Watch her face transform, every emotion one that I put there. Wonder. Passion. Need. Ecstasy.
“That’s because you can get it any time you want,” Oscar claims, interrupting my train of thought. “Some of us are struggling over here.”
“Yeah, I feel real sorry for you,” I mutter. All this conversation is doing is making me think about Mia. Turning me on. What I need to be doing is studying.
“What do you do, man? How do you get the girls to come to you?”
“Not all girls are like that.” Some won’t jump in bed with you right away, but the reward is all the more sweeter for waiting.
I pause, that thought coming out of nowhere. But maybe that’s what’s different. Mia’s only on my mind because we haven’t actually had sex yet. I’ve never been interested in any other girl because I’ve slept with them right away.
I breathe a sigh of relief. That’s all it is. The thrill of the chase. The mystery. There’s nothing wrong with me, nothing different about her.
It doesn’t mean anything if I think about her, look forward to seeing her, seek out ways to spend time with her. Once we sleep together, things will return to normal. I’ll lose interest and we’ll go back to just being friends and coworkers.
It’s the only reasonable explanation. Anything else is… too much.
Chapter Fifteen
Mia
I unlock my apartment door and immediately shed my jacket. It’s like I opened an oven instead of my front door.
“Mia,”
Kelsey calls out from the couch. “Where have you been?”
I take a moment to contain a sigh, knowing I’ve told her plenty of times I have a three-hour lecture tonight. It’s literally every week. “I had class.” I bend down and unzip my boots, flexing my toes in their warm, wool socks. Oh, that feels good.
“Well, you missed the beginning of the movie I had planned.”
Planned? Well, why didn’t she ask me beforehand if I’d actually be here, then? Or maybe just pay attention to my schedule to begin with?
“What’s the movie?” I ask instead of voicing any of that.
“The Princess Bride. Do you remember it?”
“Yeah, it’s an eighties classic.”
“I remember going over to your house once and it was on. But I never knew what it was.”
I wander into the living room, perching on a couch cushion. “It’s my dad’s favorite movie. He always had it on.”
“So what’s the deal with this masked guy?” She grabs a handful of popcorn out of the bowl next to her, sticking her feet up on the coffee table.
I seriously can’t believe she hasn’t seen this in its entirety. “You don’t recognize him?” It’s at the scene where he’s facing off in the battle of wits against Vizzini, pouring the iocaine powder into the goblets.
She moves closer to the TV, squinting. “Am I supposed to?”
“Just keep watching.”
She scoots back again and pats the spot in front of her for me to sit. I move and she extracts the clip holding everything together from the depths of my hair, finger combing it as best she can, then begins to French-braid it. The action, along with such a nostalgic film, immediately brings me back to my childhood. “I feel like I’m back in middle school. How many weekends did we do this same exact thing?”
“Yeah, but it was usually watching a Zac Efron movie. God, I was sooo into him.”
“I remember,” I murmur, wincing as she tugs my hair into place.
“And your mom would make pizza rolls and mozzarella sticks for us. It was the only time I was allowed to have junk food. I lived for those nights.”
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