The Friendship Equation Read online

  He sighed and made a big scene of it. "Fine. Serve us up some bowls while I finish up the toppings."

  "Yes, sir." Grabbing bowls, I did just that, making him one on a TV tray so he could get off his feet.

  He laughed and took it with a thank you.

  I grabbed a pack of frozen peas and a beer, adding them to the tray before he left. "Put your hand on that when you're done."

  "Maybe this will give me more cool points with the ladies," he said, taking a seat in his recliner.

  "Are you dating again?" I asked, tucking my legs into a criss-cross to balance my bowl in my lap.

  "I figured it was time. It's been a year since Tammy broke up with me," he said, and I was shocked it had been so long. "You're going off to college in the fall, and I should probably find something to do with my time."

  I felt bad. I'd been here so little, the guy was probably lonely as fuck. I should have been spending more time with him. I hated how much he missed Mom. How much we both did. My chest ached. "I think it would be good for you. Why don't you try a dating app?"

  "Nah, I'm going to do what I normally do."

  "Subtly flirt with the regulars at your bar and hope one takes a liking to you?" I asked, picking up my bowl so I didn't ruin my shirt, blowing on the chili.

  "It worked on Tammy, didn't it?" He flashed me a smile, which was more sad than charming.

  "Tammy liked you for years. She said so. But then look at what happens when you break up—you can't show your face in your favorite bar for, what, six months? You were miserable." More reasons for me to spend more time here.

  He'd been head over heels for her, and she decided she never wanted to get married and settle down again, so she ended things. I didn't blame her, but I hated that she decided that after dating him for two years.

  "Right, I know. But someone my age can't pick up skills like online dating quickly. I know nothing about this swipe shit."

  "That's how everyone is doing it. It's a useful skill, sir." I took a bite and groaned. Just like Mom used to make it. "I'll help you set it up this weekend. You should at least try."

  And maybe it would alleviate some of the guilt I felt while I was considering fucking a guy sitting in his living room. To be fair, we'd never talked about his stance on queer people. I'd always assumed he was as old fashioned as he came off and didn't bother bringing it up.

  "Christ, kid, maybe telling you I was ready to start dating was a mistake," he said with good humor. "You're not swimming this weekend?"

  "Just practice. We are tapering starting soon for conference and then sectionals.” Two of the biggest meets of our season. A win or a low enough time would qualify me for the state meet.

  "Sure, sure." He tried hard but he didn't understand any of the terminology. "Can you send me the schedule for those so my boss doesn't put me down for overtime during conference? I want to see some of your races." He put his hand on the peas, and I smiled.

  "Sure." I pulled out my phone. "Forwarding it to you now. I start early since I'm in all the relays, but I'll be there all weekend. You don’t need to come to the qualifying days.”

  He shifted, leaning over to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. "Let me give you some cash so you can get food while you're there."

  "I don't need anything. I've been getting enough hours at work." The truth was, I hated taking his money because swimming already cost so much between suits and trips. I didn't want to be the reason he had to take more hours. Besides, there was no way my coach would let me eat any of the concession stand food anyway.

  "Come on, kid, it's the least I can do. Take the money. I've been getting a lot of overtime."

  "Fine." I took the cash from him and stuffed it in my pocket before sitting back down. "Thanks for making dinner, sir."

  "It's nice for you to be home for dinner. I feel like I barely see you anymore."

  "Yeah, between swim season and school, I've been busy."

  "You seeing anyone?" he asked with a rueful smile.

  "No, not in a few months. I'm too busy."

  "Still hanging out with that Hart kid?" he asked. "I'm surprised his father is okay with him stooping to our level."

  "Huh?" As far as I knew Governor Hart had always treated me like family. My dad had never mentioned it before.

  "Now that he's looking at the big house, figured he’d be making changes. Politics change people, son.”

  I didn’t want to think that way about him.

  Snow fell as I walked outside at my normal time. My footprints from the night before were covered and the tree limbs dusted. A heavy blanket of clouds had been cast over the sky, making it impossible to tell if the sun would be up soon. I shoved my hands deeper in my pockets, wishing I could come up with an excuse to avoid school for the next couple of days.

  Would he be different?

  I didn't want to find out.

  I turned to go back inside, but as I stuck my key into the door, the purr of his engine sounded at the end of the road. He'd already spotted me; there was no way I could feign being dead. I had to do this, had to face yesterday. Face that all of it might have been a joke, or worse, that he was serious, and by the end of the week, I wouldn’t be a virgin anymore. At this point, I wasn’t sure what was worse.

  “Isn’t it kind of ridiculous to be driving a Porsche in this?" I asked as I slid into the leather seat and turned on the heat.

  "It's handled fine so far."

  I glanced over at him, and he held out a travel cup of coffee. "Thanks."

  'You're welcome." He didn't put the car in reverse.

  "What?" I asked, returning my gaze to my hands, studying the cup.

  "This going to be an all-day thing?" he asked.

  "Is what going to be an all-day thing?" I took a drink and sat back, willing my body to loosen but the tension remained.

  He gestured at me. "This."

  "You pointed at all of me..."

  "Yes, I meant all of you." He flashed me a grin with his teeth. Slightly menacing.

  I gave him an exasperated look over the lid of the plastic mug. "What is all of me doing that you want me to stop?"

  Harden loved semantics. You had to ask the right question to get the right answer. I was sure this came from being raised by two lawyers turned politicians. It drove me crazy.

  "The emo nervous thing. Not the cool, calm, and collected Vance. You’re so slick usually. What is this?" He’d clearly come into today with an agenda to be so forthcoming.

  The surprise took me aback. I didn't know how to answer him. Were we going to keep talking about the sex elephant?

  I glanced around the car, making a big show and trying to play it off. "Did I wake up in another dimension? Is there a glitch in the matrix? Because I don't think I've ever been any of those things."

  He rolled his eyes as he drummed on the steering wheel to the soft music in the background. Something from the early 90’s and 2000's stuff usually. Old alternative. Again, another quirk from his parents. All the grunge, nothing kids listened to now.

  "Would we know if there was a glitch?"

  "Good point. Maybe you kidnapped me from another dimension because the Vance in this one was murdered, and you couldn't stand to live without me anymore.” I could play this game right back. If he wanted to do semantics, he’d have to outright ask.

  The hint of a smile crept onto his lips. "This is not the multiverse."

  "You don't know that.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “We’re going to be late for practice.”

  He shot me a deep, morose glance before finally backing out of my drive. "Does this make me the hero or the villain in this world view?”

  "I guess it depends on the motivation behind your kidnapping me? Maybe you were so in love with me, you couldn't help yourself, and you thought I wouldn't notice the change. So now you're going to slow play the romance." I wiggled my brows, trying to be funny.

  "Aren't you the one who asked to hook up?" He pulled up to a stoplight and turned toward
s me. "Is this projection or wishful thinking?"

  “I didn’t ask!” But I’d joked about it. Which he’d seen right through. My cheeks burned, but I managed to keep my calm until the light turned green. “You’re the one kidnapping me.”

  “Whatever you say.” Harden turned away to drive, and I mentally lost it for a second. "Maybe my motivation was purely antagonistically."

  "I don't think that's a word," I replied, happy to have the heat off me for a minute.

  "It is so," he replied.

  "You don't get to Dr. Seuss your way out of every situation."

  "Why not? If authors can make up words, surely I can." He pulled into a parking spot and flashed me another one of his all-American grins.

  "Nope," I said trying to ignore it. He was so camera-worthy it made me sick. "Go be on the cover of Teen Beat or some shit. Don't give me that look. It doesn't work on me like it does everyone else."

  A total lie. I just hid it better than most.

  We grabbed our bags, and I hitched mine over my shoulder as we jogged towards the entrance of the building. "I want you guys in the pool in the next ten minutes," the coach yelled into the locker room.

  We didn't have time to talk as we started with a long-ass warm-up and right into the distance. Our taper would start soon, but until then he'd stack us with as many yards as possible. I hated this portion of the season. The endless distance killed me. I'd much rather swim short sprints any day. Plus, it gave us no time between sets to finish our conversation, and I was left not knowing where Harden and I stood.

  I slumped to a seat on the bench in front of the lockers when practice ended. I needed to shower, but my body was too beat up, and I didn't want to move.

  "Knots again?" Harden asked, digging in his locker.

  "I don't know what's wrong with me this year."

  He tossed me a jar of tiger balm and turned bare assed towards the shower. Most guys wore their jammers in the shower, but a few didn't want to bother with the suit, so they showered naked. I didn't blame him for looking like he did but fuck it made my life harder.

  He'd already agreed to fuck me. Why did it bother me?

  I forced myself to stop staring.

  Since I didn't have to be at class, I could afford to take my time. When he'd finished, he stood there to drip dry. Did he know what he was doing? Did he notice my constant staring? Maybe he'd always known. I tried to keep my focus on the much-needed caffeine, but it was near impossible with his dick that close to my face.

  My first class was study hall, so I didn't have to hurry. Neither of us had much left to do in the back half of our senior year; swimming would dictate where I'd go to college, and he’d already signed which meant swimming was the only thing that mattered. I'd gotten more than a few acceptances and a few offers, but I wanted to see where conference and sectionals would place me with scholarships.

  Or maybe I hoped I’d get offered something closer to him. I didn’t for a minute think Yale would want me, though. A governor’s son and great swimmer, sure; a nobody who was a decent swimmer, no.

  "What are you waiting for?" Harden asked, leaning around me to finally grab his towel. I had to stop myself from reaching out and brushing my fingers over his skin.

  I blinked as it set in what I wanted to do. I’d had a crush on him forever, fine, but I’d never been tempted like I was now. Yesterday had broken my damn brain.

  "Still trying to wake up," I lied, holding up the coffee and pretending I wasn't at dick level with only a towel between us while ignoring all the ideas I had about sucking his cock just like this in a cliché locker room fantasy.

  "You're the only guy I know who can be in seventy-eight-degree water for two hours and still be asleep."

  "I told you. I sleep swim in the mornings." It was true too. I closed my eyes between laps, and only opened them to flip. I'd been doing it for years. If they'd invent underwater headphones, it would be bliss.

  "Weirdo." He swiped the cup from my hands and took the last mouthful before tying his towel around his waist and heading toward the office for a fresh cup.

  "Bastard," I muttered after him, not about to get in trouble with coach.

  The varsity coach let us bring food in the morning and allowed us to use the Keurig in the office as long as we didn't act like assholes with it and cleaned up after ourselves. So we rotated breakfast duty. I mostly skipped the stuff kids brought in, not interested in cold bagels and mini muffins, but coffee was always a must if I was going to pay attention in any of my classes after being up as early as we were.

  Harden returned pressed the cup back into my hands. "You're welcome."

  "I love you," I muttered with a groan.

  "I know."

  "I'll give you a proper thank you once I'm fully caffeinated."

  His brows shot up. "What is a proper thank you for my coffee delivery service and why haven't I been getting it for the last three and a half years?"

  My cheeks flamed, but since I was still flushed from swimming, I hoped he didn't notice. "I thought we weren't talking about any of that until Saturday?"

  “I said we were fucking Saturday.” Harden glanced around. “I didn’t say we weren’t talking about it until then.”

  "Why?" I asked, holding his gaze. I don't know where I found the guts, but I'd dug it out of someplace. Maybe because we had no chance of hooking up here.

  "Because you said you'd give me a proper thank you. I want to know what you were thinking when you said it." He gave another passive glance around, but the locker rooms were empty as the first bell was about to ring.

  "Don't you have a class to get to?" I asked, swallowing thickly.

  "Mr. Mable won't care if I'm late." He was right but that didn't make my life any easier.

  "Look at you, blowing off your education." I shook my head, making a tsk sound.

  "I think my education will be just fine. Both of us have been accepted to college even if you haven't decided where you're going." He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly annoyed.

  I forced myself to keep my gaze on his, ignoring his pelvis so close to my face. "You can never have too much education," I said because now I was committed to the defense.

  "Vance." My name came from his lips with a bite.

  "Yes?"

  "Do you want my help or not?" he asked, the edge in his tone holding.

  "I do—why would that have changed?" I tried to keep the lust from my voice but failed. He had me there.

  "Good. Now if the person you're interested in asked you what a proper thank you would be, is this how you'd act?"

  I hated the smugness accompanying his tone. It made me want to go a few more rounds with him.

  "Are we role-playing now? What is this helping?"

  “Seduction is helping. You need to be comfortable with all of it, Finch.” He wasn’t wrong, but I was sure he would enjoy every minute of getting me worked up.

  I pushed to my feet and set my coffee aside, grabbing my soap to go shower. If I didn't get away from him, I'd say something stupid. I couldn't afford to do that.

  He followed me, leaning against the wall between the showers while I soaped myself up. "You know how bad it is for you to not wash your junk after all that chlorine."

  "I shower when I get home after afternoon practice. I think my junk will be fine with one washing a day." I wasn't about to take my suit off.

  Not in front of him.

  "Do you want to risk all those chemicals on your skin all day?" He held up his hands. "I'm only thinking of what's best for you."

  Was he trying to get me out of my suit?

  "What are you angling for here? Do you want to see what you’re getting into before Saturday?" I asked, turning around so I didn't have to see his expression when he answered.

  "Maybe I just like the idea of seeing you naked. Who doesn't like naked people?” The last stung.

  I whirled around. He wasn't laughing, so I couldn't tell if he was joking. I searched his face, looking for some c
lue.

  "No reply?"

  "If you want to see me naked, you shouldn't beat around the bush.” I grabbed my soap and stalked back to my locker. The ball was in his court.

  He dressed next to me silently, and I started to wonder if I'd pissed him off. I dried myself and then sat to rub the tiger balm into my shoulders as best I could reach. He grabbed the jar from my hands and lowered himself to sit beside me, massaging the thick paste into my sore muscles. He didn't stop there, though. When he finished with my back he moved to my thighs, squatting in front of me, between my knees.

  "You need to take better care of yourself." He held my gaze, fingers digging into my flesh.

  My cock hardened, pressing into my towel. I bit back a moan. "I know."

  "Next year, you won't have me to do it," he whispered. It was the first time he’d admitted we probably wouldn’t be at the same school.

  I hated it.

  "I know," I said again, this time accidentally letting the moan escape.

  His grin broadened as he stood. Cock at eye level again. "I'm going to keep asking you how you say a proper thank you until you answer."

  I laughed because what else could I do but find some courage. "I'd grab you, take your dick out of your pants, and blow you right here. That's what I'd do. Just like this."

  Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his, parting my lips ever so slightly.

  "Jesus, and you think you need my help?" He gripped himself. "Now I'm going to have to walk around with a halfy."

  "You kept pushing it," I said low.

  “Well, now it's too late, isn't it?"

  "Is it?" I asked, wishing he would shove himself into my mouth.

  "I'll see you after class, Van."

  Good thing I had no shame about jacking off in a bathroom stall. Because there was no way I was going to class with a halfy like Harden did.

  It barely took the edge off.

  I wanted to stay late after practice tonight and suck him off in the locker room. Why did we have to wait until Saturday?

  This was going to be the longest week ever.

  Four

  My teacher let us out of class early, and I'd never been more thankful. I jogged through the empty halls towards the locker rooms. Half hard and aching all day, I wanted time to decompress before putting on skin tight shorts. I thought about jacking off in the bathroom again but decided to lay on the bench and try to get my mind off Harden instead. I opened my locker to toss my backpack inside.