I’m dying for the day he calls me, or finds me, or texts me to tell me he’s had enough time thinking and he’s ready to be with me. Wishful thinking? Probably. But what’s that they say about manifesting? What you put into the world, you get back? Well, I’m putting us being together into the universe, so if it could boomerang right back to me as soon as possible, that’d be fucking great.

Thankfully, there hasn’t been complete radio silence. We’ve texted here and there. Usually at least once or twice a day, and it’s not always me initiating the messages, which makes me feel good. Still… grabbing my phone and seeing no messages waiting for me irritates me more than it should.

I haul my ass out of bed while trying—but failing—to not obsess over Cash and the way his ass felt gripped around my cock, completely bare. Because yeah, that’s something that’s lived in the forefront of my mind all fucking week.

It takes me longer than it should to get ready for work since I had to rub one out in the shower, but I’m able to make it to the aquatic center to leave Cash his morning coffee before he’s finished with his swim. I even had just enough time to watch him swim a few laps before I had to leave, so he didn’t catch me.

He obviously knows it’s me who’s leaving the drinks every morning, but it’s kind of this unspoken thing between us at this point.

Spring break is in a few weeks, so finals are coming up, which always means meetings ramp up too. I spend most of my day in various meetings with the board, parents, and staff. By the time I have a chance to breathe and look at the clock, it’s time to go. Being it’s Monday, I hop in my car and drive over to Molly’s. It’s been an unusually cold winter here, which makes riding my bike to work a hassle. Can’t wait for the nicer weather to hit.

Molly opens the door for me before I have a chance to knock, an apron wrapped around her. “Hey, baby bro.”

“Hey, Mol.” Walking into her house, I’m hit with the aroma of baked brownies. “That smells good.”

“Thanks. It’s not for you, though,” she responds, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she heads past me.

“What? Why not?”

“They’re for Julian’s club. They’re having an event Friday. I’m pre-making these, so they’re ready.”

I walk over to her fridge and pull out a beer. Twisting off the cap, I take a large pull before throwing the cap away. “What kind of event?”

“The Lubbock chapter is opening their club.”