Page 25 of The Hookup Situation

He’s smiling now, and it’s captivating. “The Rocky Horror Picture Show. I’ve loved it since I was in middle school and wanted to be in it forever.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. What part?”

“Dr. Frank-N-Furter.”

“That would probably mean more to me if I’d ever seen it,” I admit with a sheepish grin.

His eyes go wide. “You’ve never seen it? Not even the movie?”

I shake my head.

“Well, if you do see it, the live show is way better because of the audience participation. It’s honestly a ton of fun.”

I love seeing him be so enthusiastic about something. He comes alive talking about theater, and I love it. Love learningabout the real him. The one who’s not only sexy, but talented, and passionate, and driven. “Sounds like it.”

There’s a pause and then he says, “What about you? What are you doing when you graduate?”

“Med school, but probably coaching on the side. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll see.”

“I figured with phys-ed as your major and biology as your minor you would be getting a degree in PT or something.”

“Uh, yeah, that would make sense, but no.” I clear my throat. “I originally just wanted to work with high schoolers, coaching or teaching physical education, or both. But the summer before my senior year of high school both my parents got diagnosed with cancer, and it really sucked, feeling so fucking helpless, watching them go through all that shit, and wishing there was something I could do, and I swore I wouldn’t ever feel that way again, so I decided on med school.”

He’s staring at me and I realized I’ve just unloaded a shit ton of stuff on him that maybe he wasn’t ready for, and didn’t need to hear from his fuck buddy. “Sorry,” I say, a bit embarrassed. “That was a lot.”

He shakes his head. His voice is soft when he speaks. “It’s fine, I just… I’m sorry about your parents. That sounds really hard.”

“Yeah, it was for a long time. But we made it. They’re both okay now.”

He nods. “You were born in 2002, right? I assume that’s what Curious2002 means?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’re 22, but you’re a junior?”

“Yeah, I waited an extra year before starting college. My parents were doing better but I didn’t feel ready to leave yet, and my younger brother was having a hard time, so I stayedand worked, took care of things around the house, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds like they were lucky to have you. You guys must be close.”

I can’t help noticing the somber way he says those words, almost with a note of longing, and I wonder what it means. Is he not close with his family? My parents and my brother are the most important people in the world to me. I can’t imagine my life without them, and they’ve always supported me in everything. Taking care of Paris, taking care of them, there was no question about it. It was incredibly hard, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

“We are.”

He gives me a smile but it seems almost pained. When he goes back to his work I decide I should really do the same.

After about ten minutes of the heaviness still being in the air, I decide to try and lighten things up a bit. I crumple up a piece of paper and lob it at him. It hits him in the face and he sputters and glares at me, then throws it right back. His smirk is there again and I count that as a win. I slide my foot over and nudge his underneath the table, and he chuckles and taps mine back, shaking his head and grinning.

I slide off my sneaker and then move my foot over to his again, bringing it a little higher and brushing it against his leg, below his knee. He jolts a little and I wonder if I’ve gone too far or made him uncomfortable when those blue eyes lock on me, then glance under the table. But the next thing I know he’s sliding his shoe off and nudging my foot with his. Honest to God, I don’t think I’ve ever played footsie with someone before and it’s hella fun. I rub my foot on top of his, and then he does the same to me, and fucking hell, this is turning me on. I nudge his toes and he lifts them, and we press our feet together, playing with each other’s toes, neither one of us doing homework, butstill staring at our screens like we are. There’s a grin a mile wide on his face and I’m sure mine is just as big.

I reach over and slide my socked foot up his leg, then set it on his lap, slouching a bit in my chair in order to reach, then brush my heel against his thigh. He grips my foot and slouches too, and I jolt when I feel his rock hard cock against me. Oh shit.

I see his eyes darken as he stares at me and my breath hitches. Then he’s shoving my foot aside and not a moment later I feel his foot sliding up my leg, and pressing against my dick. It jerks against his foot and I bite my tongue to hold back my groan. He keeps rubbing against me and I find myself gripping the table to keep from humping his fucking foot. Shit it feels good. Way better than it has any right to.

He grins and I know he has no intention of stopping. Fuck. My dick is leaking and pressing painfully against my zipper. I’m so fucking aroused. And I want to come so badly, but this is a fucking library, and while a few other students have left by now, we are not the only ones in here by a long shot.

Then, suddenly, he’s pulling his foot away and leaving the table. I sit there, dumbstruck, wondering what on earth he’s doing since he left all of his things here, when my phone buzzes.

Tinkerbell: I’m over in the back corner, get the fuck over here

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