I’d peeled off from Peter and his friends as early as possible the night before, desperately needing a hot shower to vent my frustration. As the hot water steamed around me, I thought of Peter’s lips so close to mine, of the feel of his body around me as he tackled me to the ground. I looked at the bruise just taking shape on my thigh and rubbed at it absently, thinking of it as a weird badge of pride: Peter was here. I hardened instantly at the thought of his hands on my skin, replaying the tackle and our near-kiss over and over in my head as I took my cock into my hand and let images of Peter and me alone and naked in the tall grass spur me forward as I stroked myself to a shuddering orgasm, breathing out Peter’s name.

I was still grumpy when I woke up, starving. I texted Liam and Sean to meet me for breakfast at the dining hall and I arrived to see a very smug, happy-looking Sean eating his cornflakes with a dreamy expression on his face.

“Hey man,” I said, and he looked up and grinned. “Christ dude, that’s one hell of a hickey you’re rocking.” There was a short row of purplish-pink welts on Sean’s neck, just below his ear. Sean blushed and Liam chuckled, patting Sean on the back good-naturedly.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” I asked as I set down my plate of pancakes.

Sean beamed. “Lisa,” he said. I was about to congratulate him, happy that one of us had finally had success with our seemingly hopeless crushes, when Liam piped up.

“Speak of the devil,” he said, and I looked up to see Lisa walking over with a grin to match Sean’s, practically glowing with giddiness. She came right over and gave Sean a big smooch on the lips.

I couldn’t help but cheer a little, I even gave Sean a bit of a slow clap. He could only laugh it off. I had the sense that there wasn’t much anyone could do to get him down right now.

“Hiya, Lisa,” I said, after Sean and Liam had said hello. “Joining us?”

“Hey, Jack,” she said, still smiling. “Yep, I’m just going to go track down some French toast. Sean, you want any?”

He smiled up at her dopily. He was so far gone, and I was so thrilled for my friend. I tried not to let any jealousy for his happiness cloud my expression. “I’ll come with,” he said, standing up and grabbing her hand. He practically whistled as they walked away.

“Wow,” I said to Liam once they were out of earshot. “He finally did it.”

Liam grinned. “Just last night in fact. You should’ve seen it. They were both trashed and essentially confessed their mutually undying love over a game of quarters.”

I laughed. “It’s a very romantic game,” I said.

Liam rolled his eyes. “I could’ve done without watching them make out for the next half hour but, hey, what’re friends for?”

“You watched them make out?”

“We were trapped in an Uber together! They either forgot I was there or, more likely, couldn’t bring themselves to care. What’d you get up to last night?”

I could feel my face heating up. “I ended up hanging out with Peter, actually.”

Liam’s brow furrowed. “Peter, as in the basketball player you’re tutoring?” He took in my face carefully as I nodded.

“Yeah, and I was tutoring him at first but then we got restless and started drinking instead.”

“Weird,” Liam said. “What was that like? Hanging out with a ‘big man on campus’?”

I could feel that my cheeks were still bright red and I tried to keep my voice casual. “Pretty good. We played some pong, which I don’t recommend playing against a varsity basketball player, by the way, and then went to Tombs.”

“Huh. Who would’ve thought you guys would actually be friends,” Liam said. I did my best not to take this personally but something must’ve shown on my face. Liam cocked his head. “Sorry, dude, didn’t mean that as an insult. Well, not to you at least. I guess I kind of assume all jocks ever do is talk about sports and lift weights or something. I thought it would be boring for you.”

“I definitely would not use the word boring to describe him,” I confessed.

Liam’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait a second—you like him?”

I looked down, not sure I was ready to admit this, even to Liam. But he took my avoidance as confirmation. “You do! Wowee. And is the feeling mutual?”

I thought back to last night, to the feel of Peter pressed against me, to the look of what I thought was disappointment that had flashed across his face when we’d been interrupted. To just how close we’d come, or at least I thought we’d come, to making out right there on the grass. Then again, Liam was right. He was a basketball player, and I was, well, me.

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Seems crazy, right?”

Liam studied me. “Not crazy. Unexpected, but not crazy.”

I sighed and stuffed another mouthful of sticky pancakes in my mouth.

“And Jack?” Liam said then. I looked up and his eyes were soft. “He’d be lucky to have you.”

I was really blushing now. “Thanks,” I said softly. “But enough about my stupid crush. You meet anyone interesting last night?”

Liam grinned and started telling me about the bar he’d been to after splitting from the newest happy couple, a gay bar that was one of our favorite places to get shitfaced and dance until we couldn’t stand any more. Apparently, he’d met a guy in his mid-thirties who he described as “dashing” and a killer dancer, crushing it on the floor in a full suit, “With top hat and cane!”

I laughed. “Sounds like I really missed out. So, did you get cane dude’s number?”

Liam’s eyes darkened briefly. “Cane dude. I like that. I’ll have to change his contact name in my phone,” he said. He pulled out his iPhone and was tapping away furiously when I looked up again from my pancakes to see Sean and Lisa making their way back to our table with two full plates of French toast.

After Sean and Lisa finished eating, I asked the guys if they wanted to work out later. Sean looked at Lisa and said he was thinking about going back to bed. I looked away to hide my guffaw, as Lisa blushed and said it sounded like a good idea, but Liam said he’d meet me there in an hour. I headed back to my dorm and changed, then put together a new playlist to get my blood pumping.

Liam was already inside running on the treadmill when I arrived and grabbed the machine next to him, matching his stride pace by pace as Bleachers and then Nirvana sang and screamed through my headphones. I was midway through my third mile when a bunch of the basketball players walked right past the treadmills, headed to their private section of the gym.

Toward the back of the group was Peter, looking almost short compared to the other massively tall players. He was sweaty and glistening, his hair deliciously plastered to his face, his tank top nearly soaked through and his nipples just peeking out through the thin white fabric. He wore skin-tight shorts to the knee with shorter, slinky Georgetown basketball shorts over them and I nearly tripped over my own feet as I thought of what the skin-tight material must look like, cupping him in close, just under the jersey material of his darker shorts. My mouth went dry and I could feel my heart racing much faster than it should on such a slow-paced run.

He was nearly past us when he looked up and caught my eye. He grinned at me, his bright green eyes crinkling at the corners as he took me in, trailing his eyes from my legs back up to my face. I did my best to flex without looking like it and I could feel the massive grin spreading across my own face. I waved awkwardly and glanced down for just a moment. I couldn’t keep my eyes from him for long.

Peter was blushing when I next looked up and he looked from me back to the rest of his group, who had almost disappeared behind the doors of their private section. He frowned and motioned with his head toward them, mouthing the word “meeting” and rolling his eyes. I nodded my understanding and tried not to get caught staring at his ass as he walked away. He glanced back over his shoulder twice in the short distance to the doors, making my heart jump with longing and excitement. He turned back to toss me a final wave and another heart-stopping grin as he disappeared behind the heavy doors.

I glanced over at Liam, wondering if he’d noticed our short exchange and found that he’d slowed his treadmill to a walking pace and was staring at me. “Oh my God!” he said, nearly doubling over with laughter as he kept walking forward slowly.

“What?” I asked him, glancing down and around, trying to figure out what had him cracking up.

“You have got it. SO. BAD!” he said, miming googly eyes as he stared at the closed team doors.

I could feel blood rushing to my cheeks and I slowed my own treadmill, figuring my heart and lungs could use a rest after all that excitement. “Yeah…” I said, embarrassed and worried that my feelings were so obvious. Were they that obvious to Peter too?

“Do you think he knows?” I asked Liam.

“Oh, he definitely knows,” Liam said. “You aren’t exactly hiding it, are you?”

I could feel panic rising in my gut and Liam must’ve seen it register on my face.

“But Jack, you don’t get it. He’s so clearly into you, too!”

“Really?” I asked him.

“Yes, really! In fact, he was even MORE obvious.”

The panic in my gut was starting to dissipate, replaced by a tiny bulb of hope. Could Peter really like me back? Could this actually happen?

I felt a sudden jolt of energy running through my veins, hope and happiness bursting through me and making me feel crazy jittery, amped up. I grinned at Liam and turned my treadmill speed back up, all the way to a sprint. I beat my best time for a six-mile run by a whole ten minutes that morning. If nothing else, my crush on Peter was a major boon for my cardiovascular health.

* * *

I was just stepping out of the shower in my dorm after the workout when my phone dinged with an incoming text from Peter. My palms were suddenly sweaty all over again as I unlocked my phone.

Sorry I couldn’t talk at the gym! Coach called us in for this meeting that would NOT end, and he punishes the whole team if we’re late.

That made sense, not that I’d been mad at Peter in the first place. My phone dinged with another text.

What’re you up to tonight?

My face was starting to hurt from grinning. I wanted to type back, just one word, You? But I wasn’t quite that bold. I took the lamer route.

Not sure yet. You?

I held the phone as those hopeful three dots appeared, holding my breath.

I have a few ideas…

Talk about a hopeful three dots. Another message came in.

Meet me at my room at nine?

I couldn’t type back fast enough.

See you soon.

I needed another cold shower. Maybe two.