Page 2 of The Play

“We get textbooks?” Deacon seemed even more clueless than he’d been a minute ago, and Grant told himself that was not making him a little crazy.

Except it was.

“This is a school, you’re supposed to learn. From textbooks. You know. Those overpriced books you buy that you need to study so you can pass your classes.”

Deacon burst out laughing. “Oh my God,” he said, chuckling so hard and for so long one of those big calloused hands—hands that had starred in way too many of Grant’s fantasies—gravitated to his pectoral muscle, gripping it as he lost it. “Your face. You actually thought . . .I didn’t know . . .what a textbook was.”

Normally, Grant’s back might’ve gone up at Deacon’s words. He might’ve believed Deacon was laughing at him. But then Deacon flashed him a conspiratorial smile, and instead, Deacon was laughing with him.

’Cause yeah, Grant couldn’t deny he was laughing, too.

“Well, you looked at me like I was crazy,” Grant said.

“Well, you looked at me like I was crazy,” Deacon said. “Maybe I’m failing statistics, but I’m not some big dumb football player.”

Grant wouldn’t admit, even under torture, that yes, he’d thought exactly that.

“Yeah, I got the textbook, it’s back at my place,” Deacon said. He crossed his arms over his chest, and damn him, if that didn’t make him look even more impressive.

“Is this you inviting me back to your place?” Grant didn’t know what gave him the courage. He wasn’t that kind of guy—even if Deacon Harris did have that kind of reputation; everyone said he didn’t care what sex you were, as long as you were hot and funny and charming, he’d be happy to grace your bed for a short, but memorable time—but Deacon made him wish, even for a few seconds, that he was.

Deacon stared at him, like he was finally really looking at Grant.

Grant nearly squirmed under that intense gaze. He didn’t want his soul analyzed, though he wouldn’t be averse to having his underwear invaded. Still, he knew the score. He just wanted to take Deacon’s money and use it to buy himself coffee and egg and cheese sandwiches for the rest of the semester.

That’s not all you want from him.

But those late-night fantasies, they were just that: fantasies. Because Grant knew he was not the kind of guy Deacon gravitated towards. He’d seen enough of them, assertive, confident girls and laughing, charming guys, tucked under his big arm, as they strolled through the quad.

“You are not what I expected,” Deacon finally said.

“What, you expected some kind of mousy guy afraid of his own shadow? A guy drowning in pocket protectors? Unable to make even basic conversation?” Grant retorted.

Okay, he was sort-of that guy. Minus the pocket protectors, anyway.

“Kinda like you expected a big dumb football player who relies on brute force but doesn’t have a hope in hell of passing statistics,” Deacon said, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Grant didn’t know what was loosening his tongue. Perhaps it was a temporary insanity brought on by the tantalizing and yet ultimately hopeless possibility of Deacon’s nearness.

“Fair,” Grant acknowledged.

“Why don’t we do this?” Deacon suggested, waving in the space between them. “We’ll leave our expectations at the door. Both of us.”

“Works for me.” Grant told himself he was also leaving any pipe dreams of Deacon being interested in his underwear behind, too.

“Good. I’ll bring the textbook next time.”

Grant’s fingers were trembling as he pulled out his tablet, glanced at his calendar. “I usually do Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays,” he said, “but I don’t think—”

“I can’t do Fridays,” Deacon agreed. “We’re often traveling on Fridays, for games.”

“Right,” Grant said. Normally, he never made exceptions. He tutored Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, period. But he already knew he was going to break his rules for Deacon. “I could do Thursday, instead, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” Deacon’s face lit up. “Oh, man, that would be a lifesaver, if you could.”

“Sounds good. We can do Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays for the rest of the semester.”

Somehow that sounded like way too much one-on-one time with Deacon, and also not nearly enough.

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