Page 65 of Tempt

“Which robot is this?”

She looks up with a smile. “New one. I’m calling him Herbie.”

Liv made a big project last year with some teammates for a competition, and now she’s hooked.

“Executive friend decision: Drop the robots and come for lunch.”

“You can’t innovate without sustenance,” Jules agrees.

Liv rises gracefully from the bench and packs the components into a clear plastic bin before taking it to one side of the room where there’s stacked storage.

I’m the one who suggested lunch.

Partly because Daniel and I made out on the couch like sweaty teenagers and I’m all up in my head over it.

This morning when he came into the kitchen, he gave me one of those smiles guys give you when they know they’ve made you come.

He didn’t miss any excuse to brush past me, leaning across me instead of waiting until I moved to reach up and grab the glasses over the stove so my ass pressed into him.

But I’m not going to lose my head over some guy.

Even that one.

“Ladies.”

Sawyer’s in the doorway, his ever-present smirk and too-long hair contrasting with the jacket he wears over jeans.

“I came to ask you to lunch.”

“You want her to go to lunch or to be your lunch?” I ask.

Liv snorts and Sawyer shrugs. “It seems you already have plans.”

Jules looks at me, and I reluctantly nod. “Why don’t you join us?”

I wanted girl time, and this isn’t it. But I swallow my disappointment as the four of us head to a cafe on the edge of campus that’s frequented by grad students.

We order our food, grilled paninis for me and Jules, a salad for Liv, a coffee for Sawyer. Sawyer sits next to Liv with the natural familiarity of two people used to sharing the same rhythm. He’s always looking for her, bringing her closer to him. She smiles more when he’s near, watches for his reactions—not because she takes her cues from him, but because she loves seeing him respond to the world.

I’m a simple woman. I’ve never wanted a “let’s co-own a Keurig and watch entire seasons of TV together and have friends in common” relationship.

But for the first time, I wonder if maybe I’m missing out.

I focus on our conversation as Jules talks about her arts program’s challenging project for their final year. Liv is working on a prototype of a new robot with a partner from San Francisco. Sawyer’s building his company in New York while juggling teaching.

“I need to give notice on our apartment and move the rest of my stuff out.” Three sets of eyes swing to me. “Unless I want to keep it.”

“There’s no reason to. Right?” Jules asks.

“Not unless you both decide to be my roommates again.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

Liv rests her head on Sawyer’s arm. “Sorry. You know we love you.”

The past month, I always felt my dorm room was an option I could fall back on. Like a safety school, or that guy I used to call every Thursday of second year to hook up because he was decent in bed and always available.

Signing it back to the university feels pretty major.

“Nannying must be going well,” Sawyer comments.

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