Page 41 of Method Acting

“How long is your shift?”

“I finish in two hours.”

He made a face. “Well, maybe not that long. I was supposed to be writing this stupid essay. It’s due for Professor Michaels.”

“You can finish that in two hours.”

“Can I?”

“Sure. If you stop staring out the window and ignore all the campus rumor bullshit.” I pushed his open textbook closer to him. “Get writing. And if you get it finished by the time I’m done, I’ll buy you a slice of pizza from next door when we leave.”

He grinned at me in a way that made my heart take notice.

But then he went and opened his mouth.

“So before, when you said you’d be the one doing the nailing, what did you mean exactly?”

I slid out of the booth and stood up, getting back to work. “Write your paper, Hollywood.”

I was surprised by how easy it was to be around him. Sure, we joked and there was a lot of snarky comments, but for the most part, being with Chase Soria was so easy.

I’d always assumed he would be the typical handsome and popular douche bag. Like so many of them were. But he wasn’t like that at all, and I was pleasantly surprised by how compatible we were.

I also had to wonder how compatible we were in other ways.

I knew he was bisexual, and I had also assumed that he would top when he was with guys. But the more I got to know him, the more I realized I didn’t know him at all.

Because I got the feeling he wasn’t a top. And that made us a whole lot more compatible.

And that was something I tried not to think about.

Especially in class the next day, when we were back to sitting on the floor with him in between my legs and my arms around him. Not that we had to sit like that—no one else was sitting like that—but Chase had maneuvered us and made himself comfortable as the little spoon, taking my hand and holding it against his belly.

It was his new favorite way to sit, apparently.

I tried especially hard to not think about him being a bottom when he kept taking my hand and making me squeeze his pecs.

“Stop it,” I hissed.

“You’re the one that’s obsessed with them.”

I dug him in the ribs because I was absolutely not obsessed. He was. He squirmed, laughing, and grabbing my calf, he brought my leg around his waist.

“Jesus, are you all right there?”

He held me in place. “You’re such a koala bear. And you said you weren’t the cuddling type.”

“You’re wrapping me around you. This is all you. Because believe me, this is not my choice.”

“But you could totally throw me down and pin me to the floor if you wanted.”

“Is that... is that why you’re doing this?”

He chuckled, holding my right leg and my left arm around him. “Of course it’s not.”

“Are you two okay there?” Deirdre asked.

The way everyone was now staring at us, I was pretty sure our talking had interrupted her lesson. Not that I’d heard any of it. I gave Chase another dig in the ribs for good measure. “Sorry.”

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