Page 52 of A Man To Remember
"This okay?" he asks.
I squeeze his hand in response.
We keep walking, hands linked, and I try not to overthink it. Try not to take detailed notes of every sensation, every place where his skin touches mine, try not to wonder what people think when they see us.
Of course, I fail spectacularly on all counts.
But Austin's thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand now, and all those nagging thoughts lose their meaning.
I'm so lost in the feeling of his palm against mine that I don't notice where we're heading until the building looms in front of us, all red brick and ivy-covered walls.
I stop walking so abruptly that Austin stumbles.
"Jesse?"
I'm staring up at the campus entrance, at the bronze letters spelling out the university name, at the handful of people lounging on the steps.
"What are we doing here?"
Austin's still holding my hand, thumb still doing that circle thing. "I thought we could take a tour. You know, so you can get a feel for the place. In case you decide to apply after all."
My stomach drops. "Austin, I can't—"
"Why not?"
"Because we're two grown men. We can't be wandering around a college campus. That's weird. Creepy, even."
"It's summer break. There's hardly anyone around."
I search for another excuse. Anything to avoid having to explain the real reason I don't want to go in there.
"We can't just walk in. Don't you need permission or something?"
Austin pulls out his phone and shows me a confirmation email. "Good thing I signed us up for the official tour then."
Shit.
"Austin..." The real fear creeps into my voice despite my best efforts. "I'm not an eighteen-year-old kid. I'm twenty-nine. These kids, they'll take one look at me and think I'm a professor."
Austin steps in front of me, blocking my view of the campus, forcing me to look at him instead of the building that represents everything I'm not sure I'm brave enough to want.
"Jesse. Look at me."
I do. Reluctantly.
"Can you trust me? Just for a couple of hours?"
The question hangs in the air between us. Simple words that feel like they're asking for something much bigger than a campus tour.
All I want to do right now is drag him away from here and back to the safety of my apartment, where I know the rules and the walls can't judge me for being a decade behind schedule.
But I nod.
Because he's asking. And apparently I can't say no to anything he asks for.
"Okay," I whisper.
He smiles, the kind that makes his whole face light up, and gives my hand a squeeze.
