Don’t get me wrong, I had a great respect for intellects, but I knew I didn’t have the brain bandwidth to hang with Topher for any length of time. This was supposed to be a general “get to know you” meeting and should have lasted no longer than twenty minutes. Yet here I was…feeding him pizza, pouring wine into his untouched glass, and holding his wrist longer than necessary. Geez, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think I had a damn crush on the guy.
That was a joke, by the way. I didn’t have a crush on him. He was cute, but I wasn’t gay.
I dropped his hand and stuffed half a slice of pizza into my mouth.
Topher closed his computer and stood. “I should go. Thank you for meeting me. I look forward to assisting you. My classes don’t start until the end of September. I can give you as much time as you require during the next month or so. After that, we’ll have to play it by ear.”
I nodded slowly and watched as he gathered his belongings, sliding his computer neatly into a padded pouch and slipping a notepad into the next compartment. His clipped manner and jerky movements contrasted with his friendly tone. Damn, he reminded me of my brother.
George had what we called a finite social timer. He could converse with anyone about any topic under the sun, but when the meter ran out, he couldn’t talk at all. Not kidding. At Christmas, he left the table in the middle of a heated game of hearts and didn’t return. You can’t walk away from a card game without fucking up the whole thing, but there was no point in getting angry. That was just George. He was extremely gifted in some ways and limited in others.
Football had given me a group of brothers who placed value on brute strength and like-mindedness. In a team sport, there was no place for radical individualism. Trust, respect, and allegiance mattered. It was hard enough to trust a teammate who didn’t like chocolate. But if that same guy decided to follow his own playbook, retreat to the bleachers with a book in the middle of practice, or show up to the game wearing a different number just because…well, that wouldn’t fly.
I loved football, but I also loved my brother…even if he was weird as fuck sometimes. And I liked to think growing up with someone like him made me a tad more sensitive to, um…how shall I say this? Odd ducks—like Topher. I needed to be patient and ideally, charm the socks off of him, so he wouldn’t think twice about this gig and maybe even jumping in to complete an assignment or two for me.
“Sounds good. I have classes Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays online,” I informed him as I led the way through the house to the front door. “Are you willing to make the drive to Malibu again tomorrow?”
“Sure, that’s fine. But…I have a request.”
“Lay it on me.”
He hiked the strap of his computer bag higher on his shoulder. “If we’re going to work from your house, we need to be alone. No distractions.”
“Not a problem. I live alone,” I replied quickly.
“Yes, but…if you’re entertaining or perhaps have an overnight interlude, please let me know.”
“Overnight interlude,” I repeated, biting back a grin.
“I don’t want to bump into your naked girlfriend or a naked…you. Please.”
“All right, but for the record, she wasn’t naked, she wasn’t my girlfriend, and I had a towel on.”
“Barely.”
I chuckled as I pulled the door open. “No nudity. I promise. Any other rules?”
Topher considered me thoughtfully. “Well…yes.”
I leaned on the doorjamb and crossed my arms. “Like what?”
“I don’t know yet, but I have a feeling I’m going to need a few.”
“You’re going to need a few?”
“Um…well, uh…maybe.” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat theatrically. He briskly stuck his hand out, adding, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Murphy.”
I pulled my hand back at the last second and growled. “Whoa! Mr. Murphy is my dad or my grandfather. I’m Simon or Si or Murphy. At this point in my life, I reserve the title ‘mister’ for the bedroom only.”
I had no idea where that came from. Sure, it was true, but it was about as appropriate as dropping my towel and exposing my kibbles and bits in front of my new acquaintance. Damn, what was wrong with me?
Topher gaped. “Bedroom. You mean…like role-playing?”
I shrugged with faux nonchalance, as if I had these kinds of conversations with my brother’s friends all the damn time. “Yeah, why not?”
He went still. Like literally didn’t move a muscle for a few seconds. “Were you and that girl…? Did you…?”
“No, no, no.” I widened my eyes and shook my head. “I think role-playing requires a bit more trust than the average one-night stand allows. For me, anyway. What about you?”