“Thank you. I’m glad someone around here appreciates my effort,” Seph says, giving Bishop a side hug and shooting a venomous glare at Hudson before turning her attention back to me. “So, will you invite him? He can be our guest of honor.”
“I don’t know.” I gulp down the rest of my drink and set the glass back down on the table harder than intended. I haven’t spoken to Elijah all week. Every time I picked up my phone to text him, all I could think about was how his skin felt against mine and the sound of his breathy moans. Goosebumps prickle up my arm at the thought, my cock shifting in my jeans. The problem is, I want to text him. I want to find a way to reset things back to the way they were before last weekend.
“Why not?” Hudson asks.
“He’s pretty busy with school and everything; I’m not sure he’ll have time.”
“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Seph points out. “Besides, he has to eat, it might as well be fancy, tiny birds.”
I bite back a laugh at Seph’s single mindedness. “I’ll ask him, but I’m not making any guarantees. But even if he can’t make it, there’s no reason we can’t have our own fancy-ass dinner party.”
“Here, here.” She raises her glass, and Bishop obliges in toasting her.
When the conversation finally turns away from Elijah and to complaints about work and life, I let my mind wander again. I start to feel like a complete dick for ghosting Elijah all week. I get why Theo has been protective of him all these years—he just brings out something in you that makes you want to shield him from the big bad world. The thought of him at home alone tonight, wondering why I haven’t called or texted, twists in my gut like a knife, and I reach for my phone.
Pax: Hey Einstein, sorry I haven’t texted all week, I was crazy busy wooing a client down in Florida
I have no doubt he’ll see right through the excuse. I’m always busy with clients, but it hasn’t stopped me from texting before this week. I’m hoping he’ll take it as an olive branch anyway and let me off the hook. My heart pounds as I wait for his reply. I wouldn’t blame him if he decides to ignore me. Hell, it’s probably what I deserve after being the asshole who pulled a fuck and run on him last weekend or at least the frotting equivalent of it.
When the little dots appear, I let out the breath I was holding, my hand clenching tight around my phone as I wait to see what he’ll say.
Einstein: No big deal, I was busy all week too, so it worked out
My chest clenches. I swear I can practically see the defiant set of his jaw through the phone, an expression stubbornly in place to convince me he didn’t even notice I hadn’t texted.
Pax: What are you up to tonight?
Einstein: Studying. You? Flirting with cute guys at the bar, I’m guessing?
I should lie and tell him that’s exactly what I’m doing. Hell, it’s what I should be doing. The sooner he sees who I really am, the easier things will be.
Pax: Nah, just hanging with some friends. I’m kind of bored though, thinking about heading home…
I’m not fishing for an invite to him place. Of course I’m not.
Einstein: Oh
I wait to see if he’ll say anything else, and when he doesn’t, I consider leaving it alone. If it was Hudson or Bishop or Seph, I’d leave it at that. Although, I’ve gone half a decade without humping any of them into oblivion, so clearly, it’s not an apples to oranges type of comparison.
Pax: You eat yet?
It’s after ten, so I’m sure he has.
Einstein: Just popcorn. I kind of lost track of the time.
A smile spreads slowly across my lips.
“Texting your nerdy boy? Is there something here you’re not telling us because I’ve never seen you that focused on your phone,” Seph asks.
“No,” I lie. “I’m feeling a bit wiped. This week took it out of me. I think I’m going to call it an early night.”
“Now who’s going to be my wingman?” Hudson complains.
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to trick unsuspecting men into your bed without my help,” I assure him, patting his shoulder.
“I’ll catch you guys next week for our fancy dinner party.”
“Hell yeah, you will,” Seph cheers.
On my way out of the bar, I send one more text.
Pax: Be there in twenty with a pizza
Einstein: Ok
Chapter 10
Elijah
I glance down at myself. I’m dressed in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. It was a perfectly acceptable outfit for sitting at home by myself on a Friday night, but now that I’ll be sitting at home with Pax, do I need to change? It would be weird if he showed up to sit around and eat pizza and I’m dressed like I’m ready to go out. I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to impress him.
I bite my lip and fiddle with the hem of my shirt. I’d call Theo back and ask his opinion, but I don’t want to interrupt his date.
When the buzzer sounds to announce Pax’s arrival, I’m still in my sweatpants, and I decide that’s just how it’s going to have to stay. I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants and hit the button to let him into the building, and then I hurry over to my table to clear off all my textbooks and papers.
The front door creaks open a minute later, and Pax pops his head in, a big, cocky smile on his lips. He’s dressed like he always is, in a dress shirt, sleeves rolled up. His hair is styled neatly, and, when he gets close, I can smell the distinct scent of the bar on him.
Was he really out with friends or was he looking for a hookup? Not that I have any business wondering about it. And if he was at the bar looking for someone to take home, what’s he doing here?
Pax’s eyes latch onto mine, and my stomach squirms. There’s heat in his gaze I don’t understand. He made it clear he wasn’t interested in me like that. I think I need a new principle of physics to figure this one out. If Heisenberg’s Uncertainty principle is that you can know the velocity or location of an object at any given time, but not both. I think the Paxton Uncertainty principle has to be that you can understand what he says or how he acts, but both can’t be comprehensible at the same time.
“Um…thanks for the pizza,” I say, reaching for the box in his hand. The heat leaches out of his expression, and it’s replaced with what appears to be guilt that I can’t begin to understand. I wonder for a second if he thinks he took advantage of me last weekend. I want to set him straight, in case that’s the reason behind how distant he’s been all week, but I can’t think of how to bring it up in a way that isn’t devastatingly embarrassing, so I don’t say anything.
“Why don’t we put on some old horror sci-fi and eat in front of the TV like heathens?” Pax suggests when I set the pizza down at the table.
“Oh, yeah, that sounds nice,” I agree, smoothing my shirt with my hands simply to have something to do with them. The only consolation is that he seems just as uncomfortable as I am. I wonder how people do this, hook up with people casually and then see them again later without being completely awkward messes. In college, Theo messed around with guys who lived on our dorm floor all the time, and he never seemed to get weird about it.
We get comfortable on the couch, a few feet between us, and pick out a movie. I shift around, trying not to think about the last time we were on this couch together and how his lips felt on mine. My heart beats faster at the thought, and I pray that Pax won’t notice the semi I’m sporting.
“My friends were asking about where I’ve been lately,” he says as we each grab a slice of pizza.
“Oh?” I’m not sure if I’m supposed to apologize for monopolizing his weekends lately or if he’s simply stating a fact.
“I told them a little about you,” he goes on.
“Oh?” I say again, heat rising in my cheeks. What could he have possibly told them about me? Surely not what happened between us last weekend, right? Although it’s common practice to tell friends about…those kinds of things. At least I think it is. Theo always told me a
bout his hookups in graphic detail, even when I tried to get him to stop.
Oh my god, what if he told them I’m horrible in bed? The thought makes me feel sick to my stomach. I mean, I’m sure I wasn’t all that great, but it was my first time. My first rocket didn’t fly either. Some things take a little time to get exactly right.
“Yeah, I told them you’re Theo’s best friend, and you just moved out here to go to CalTech.”
“Oh,” this one is said with a breath of relief, my shoulders sagging.
“They want to meet you. Persephone, we call her Seph, she got this idea in her head to throw some kind of dinner party next weekend.”
“They want to meet me? Why?”
Pax shrugs, taking a big bite of his pizza. “They’re my friends, you’re my friend, it makes sense.”
“It does?” I swallow hard, nerves making my stomach flutter too hard to risk taking a bite of pizza. “I never met any of Theo’s other friends. I mean, at first he tried introducing me, but most of the time they’d end up making fun of me and then Theo would yell at them and never see them again. After a while, he stopped introducing me to them. I think he got sick of having to defend me,” I confess, curling in on myself a little at the memory.
He reaches over with his free hand and tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“First of all, I am absolutely positive Theo wasn’t sick of defending you. If anything, he probably started to feel bad that you kept ending up in situations that hurt your feelings,” he says. “And second, I guarantee my friends won’t make fun of you. If anything, I’m more worried that two out of three of them will try to get in your pants.”
My eyebrows pull together, and I tilt my head. “Why would they want to do that? I’m nothing special to look at. I’m awkward, I’m…there’s no reason for anyone to want me that way.”
Pain lances through Pax’s eyes, and for a few stuttered heartbeats, I’m sure he’s about to kiss me.
“Oh, Einstein, you really have no idea.”
Pax
I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life. Truth be told, most of the time I could take or leave kissing. But I swear to fuck there’s nothing I want more right now than to kiss that insecure little pout off Elijah’s lips. The feeling hits me so hard in the chest I can hardly breathe for a few seconds.
But I can’t do it. I won’t do it to him…or to Theo—if my assumption is correct that he has a thing for Elijah. Even without my brother being a possible issue, Elijah deserves better than what I can give him. I’ve tried the whole relationship thing, and I’ve been an utter failure at it.
“So, you’ll come next Saturday?” I ask, hoping to deflect from the weight of the moment hanging between us.
“I guess,” he agrees. “Why not.”
“That’s the spirit,” I tease, taking another bite of my pizza and settling back on the couch. He picks up his own slice again and nibbles at the end cautiously before eventually relaxing into the couch and taking a larger bite.
I let my gaze roam over him for a few seconds, taking in his casual attire. It looks just as good on him as the blazers. I try for a few seconds to pull up the image of a single man at the bar tonight who might’ve caught my interest, and I come up completely blank. I don’t think I even looked around; I just stared at my phone and thought about Elijah.
An uncomfortable ache starts in my chest, and I ease it with another slice of pizza as I turn my attention to whatever it is he put on the TV. But I can’t seem to focus on anything except the man less than two feet away on the other end of the couch.
What is wrong with me? It was a meaningless hookup, nothing more. I’ve never had trouble keeping this shit in perspective or separating physical from feelings.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks. I pull my gaze away from the television—not that I was actually watching it—and look over at him again. His cheeks are already pink, his eyes wide and innocent like he’s fucking trying to be as irresistible as possible.
“Sure, Nerdlet, shoot.”
“I was wondering if you’d still help me learn how to flirt? Because I was kind of thinking…I um…I kind of want to maybe…you know, find someone.”
My heart constricts, and my stomach churns, threatening to send the pizza I just swallowed back up.
“Oh?” I guess I’m stealing Elijah’s lines now, but I can’t think of a damn thing to say to that. I told him we’re friends, and I meant it. I wingman for Hudson all the time without batting an eye, and it shouldn’t be any different with helping Elijah hookup or date or whatever the hell he wants to do.
“Yeah, I’ve never thought that much about dating. It’s always seemed like more of a hassle than it’s worth. Plus, all the stress of trying to figure out if someone likes me and everything. But maybe if you help me, I could get it right?” He bites his bottom lip and looks at me with hopeful eyes.
“Sure,” I say before I can think about it. You’d have to be a heartless monster to say no to a face like that, but goddamn do I not want to do this. Elijah can date, he should date, especially someone other than me. But I don’t want to have to see it, and I definitely don’t want to help.
A slow smile spreads over his lips.
“Thanks, Pax.”
“Sure, Nerdlet.”
Chapter 11
Elijah
Elijah: What are you wearing?
Pax: Nothing but a smile ;)
Elijah: What?
Elijah: Oh my god, I meant seriously, what are you wearing to the dinner party?
Pax: That’s unfortunate, I was so excited you’d gotten the hang of flirting for a second
Elijah: No, and don’t hold your breath for that to happen any time soon.
Pax: What you normally wear is fine. You look hot in your stylish blazers
Heat creeps into my cheeks, and I’m glad he can’t see how hard I’m blushing. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it—he’s a flirt. But it still feels nice to hear that Pax might think I look nice.
Elijah: Ok. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes then
Pax: Well that’s good because I’m standing outside
Elijah: What? Why didn’t you say that before?
Pax: Because I thought you were flirting with me, and I didn’t want to interrupt
Elijah: And people think I’m the weird one. I’ll buzz you up, give me one second
I hit the buzzer and unlock my door so he can come right in when he gets up here, then I turn my attention back to my clothes, trying to decide what to wear to this, quote, fancy-ass dinner party.
“I like the white blazer with the thin gray stripes, with that white t-shirt. I think it’s what you were wearing the first night we met at Twisted Cherry,” Pax says from behind me, making me jump.
“Jeez, I didn’t even hear you come in. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” I put a hand over my chest. It takes me a few seconds to fully catch up to what he just said. Pax remembers what I was wearing one night over a month ago?
I reach for the items he suggested, and he hops onto my bed and makes himself comfortable.
“Do you mind? I need to get dressed.”
“I don’t mind,” he purrs suggestively, smirking as he lets his eyes roam over my fully clothed body in a way that makes me feel completely naked. I drop my gaze as my heart starts to beat faster again—this time it has nothing to do with fear. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it all anyway, Einstein.”
I sputter and blush, doing my best to ignore the heat that pools between my legs, my cock hardening at the reminder.
“That was different. I was too distracted to feel self-conscious about how pale and skinny I am,” I argue. I still don’t know the exact reason Pax wasn’t interested in a repeat, but I’m sure my unsexy body was somewhere on the list.
“Elijah,” he says my name in a deep rumble, his tone holding a seriousness that isn’t typical for him. I look up, and his eyes are on me again, or maybe still, but instead of pure heat,
there’s a depth in his gaze I didn’t expect. “You’re hot as fuck. The way you look has nothing to do with why I don’t think it’s a good idea to fool around again,” he explains as if he read my thoughts.
“I know,” I lie. “It’s fine. We don’t need to talk about it.”
I strip my shirt over my head and toss it toward the laundry hamper, resisting the urge to wrap my arms around myself to hide. I don’t look at Pax, but I can feel his eyes on me every second it takes me to dress.
I don’t bother to do much with my hair aside from run a quick comb through it. Honestly, it’s hopeless to do much more than that anyway.
“All right, let’s get this over with,” I say, squaring my shoulders.
Pax snorts a laugh. “Relax, Nerdlet, it’s dinner with my friends, not a firing squad.”
“Feels like the same thing,” I murmur, running my hands over my blazer to smooth out any imaginary wrinkles.
He gets up off my bed, moving to stand directly in front of me. He puts a hand under my chin and tilts my face up so I’m forced to look at him, my heart in my throat. The heat is back in his eyes, and for a crazy moment I wonder if he’s going to kiss me again. If I was the praying type, I might even spare a prayer for it to happen, just one more time. I’m already starting to forget the taste of his lips, and if that’s not a tragedy, I’m not sure what is.
“I promise tonight will be fun. And if you’re miserable, you say the word, and we’re out of there.”
“Really?” I ask, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “What word should I say? Do we need a special code word?”
“Sure, we can have a code word,” he agrees. “How about sugar tits?”
I snort and roll my eyes. “I’m not saying that.”
“That’s exactly why it’s the perfect code word; you’re not going to accidentally say it in conversation,” he reasons.
Rocket Science Page 7
