I shook my head and smiled at him because no matter how crazy he made me, I really fucking liked Easton Archer. In fact the more I knew, the more I wanted him. There was no telling myself any different on that.

“Easton, I’m just trying to get into this building without starting some fuckboy drama with you. I want this place and I—”

This I wasn’t sure how to say without going into weirdness territory.

“I like you. Like as a friend, and I’m going to be here for a while.” I sagged after getting the words out, and he looked at me like he knew what was coming.

“I get it. If you want this place, it’s yours, and I will keep my thirsty ass in shape.”

I shook my head at him, biting back a smile, wanting to also say my piece. The thought of Easton walking away from this feeling hurt was not sitting right with me.

“Listen, you’re obviously not the only thirsty one in this situation.” I glanced up to the steel beams in the ceiling, hoping to word this right and not offend him because he had been nothing but decent to me. “I just don’t want to ruin the chances for us actually being friends. I don’t do very well as a lover in the long term, but I am a decent friend. Hearing about your college experience, I don’t know, it makes me want to get to know you better, without our dicks being involved.”

Easton deflated like I was making too much sense and he might have to agree with me, but he didn’t have to like it. “You might have gone with the wrong career, because I’m thinking you would have made a hell of a lawyer.”

An unexpected bark of laughter came out of me, a regular occurrence whenever Easton was around, but I was grateful for the shift in the conversation. “Pssh, being an economist is much better. We don’t even try to argue, we just manipulate the data until we can tell everyone how to think. So...”

Easton extended a hand to me as if to seal the deal. “Welcome to 611 Cayuga, Professor Denis.”

I smiled wide as we shook on it. “Thank you, Mr. Archer.”

Easton

Patrice wanted to be friends? Fine, I could do friends.

I was sitting at my desk Monday morning thinking about Saturday and how easy it was to be with Patrice. How wanting him was all I could think about when he was close. But it wasn’t just that. I wanted to know about Patrice, about the reasons why he was so careful.

“What are you frowning about now? That’s your permanent expression these days.”

Cindy.

I lifted my eyes from the monitor I’d been blankly staring at for the last twenty minutes and tried my best to smile for her.

She wasn’t buying it.