I drop the folder of the other photos from the semester that I’ve chosen to turn in to Professor Solomon, and Oliver slides it open without looking away from me.
“You know,” I say, barely able to move now that he’s so close. His knee slides between both of mine, and even when he looks away, he doesn’t pull it back.
This time, his review takes longer. He points out the flaws in my work, making me feel somewhat bad about not knowing enough about photography, but tells me that I should do well overall. When I glance at my phone, I’m surprised to see it’s already been forty minutes since we’d started.
I like doing this, I realize. Oliver is intelligent and articulate. I like working with him, and the way he throws ideas back at me to make me think. It’s just too bad about everything else.
Realizing he’s asked me a question, I glance up, brows raised. “What?”
“I asked how your stream is going,” Oliver replies easily, gathering up my other photos and putting them back into the folder. He puts that back into my backpack as well, then zips it up. “Since Halloween.”
“I feel like people are disappointed you aren’t there,” I admit, shrugging my shoulders. “You made it exciting. I’m kind of boring.”
“You’re not boring,” Oliver assures me, getting to his feet and leaving me in the office chair. “You’re not boring at all. Do you want to figure out some ways to be more exciting? That’s how I built an audience. Consistency, yes. They want to know what they’re going to get from you. But, I hate to say it, sweet and shy isn’t going to do it forever. Especially for your long time viewers. You have to take risks.”
“Because you fucking me on stream wasn’t a risk?”
He grins and takes a step back. “I have an idea for you, if you’ll take it,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s pretty popular when streamers do it. Especially women.Especiallywith your mask. But I’m not going to make you.”
His attitude shift is… strange. I study Oliver, unsure of where he is heading with this. He hasn’t led me astray before, and hehashelped me grow my stream. Even if it was inspired by him originally, it’s my thing now. And it’s myjob. I’ll do anything to make more.
“Okay,” I agree, getting to my feet.
“Just wait here. I’ll be back.” He escapes the room quickly, and I hear the sound of rummaging from further down the hallway.
Standing there, I tap my heels on the hardwood, looking around the room again. This really isn’t what I expected from Oliver, and when I creep to the bathroom and look inside, it just makes me more confused. It’s just so… perfect. Oliver is such a chaotic mess, even at the best of times, that this feels a lot more like—
“What are you doing in my bathroom, Love?” The following sigh makes me jump, and I whirl around just as Rook leans back against the wall by the door.
“Your bathroom?” I repeat nervously, stepping away from the open door. “But Oliver said this was his room.”
“His room looks like a tornado hit it at the best of times.” Rook’s eyes flick to the desk where my backpack sits. “He told me he was going to review your work today. Is that why you’re here? Trying to get Oliver to help you not fail?”
I suck in a breath, my hands trembling. Oliver makes me nervous, sure, but Rook? He still frightens me when we’re face to face. Especially when we’re here, inside his home. “He’s my project partner,” I remind him coolly, keeping my gaze on his. “We were just going over everything to turn it in.”
Oliver strides back in, brow quirked as he passes Rook. “I told you that we were using your room,” he reminds him, tossing a black plastic bag on the bed.
“You didn’t,” Rook informs him smoothly. “You said she was coming over, but that was it. Whydidyou pick my room, exactly?”
When Oliver grins, Rook shakes his head and scoffs. “Careful, Oliver,” he warns. “You’re likely to chase her out that door again if you’re not considerate of Blair’s feelings, and her misgivings about you.”
“I’d never hurt you,” Oliver replies, though the words are directed at me instead of his professor and lover. “Come on.” Hesinks down onto the bed, but I hesitate beside it, looking back at my professor.
He inclines his head towards the mattress, then turns and walks right back out the door.
“Are you sure he doesn’t hate me?” I breathe, wanting to be quiet in case he isn’t gone.
“Rook?” Oliver looks up, and towards the door as well. “He likes you a lot. You’d know if he didn’t.” I don’t know how that could be true, but my attention is stolen by the contents of the bag that he’s dumped onto the bed.
“No.” I state, making him snicker. Still, my hands reach out anyway, until I’m touching the soft fur of thetailthat sits between us. As I do, I can’t decide if I’m more appalled by the existence of the shiny plug that it’s attached to, or the size.
Probably the size.
“Why not?” Oliver laughs, running his fingers over it as well. The purple fur curls around his fingers, and the black stripe on one side looks like it would be painting a runway straight to my body. “It’s gorgeous. And it’s unexpected. You’d shock them, wow them, and have them begging you for more.”
“Okay, first off. I don’t even know how to put it on. In,” I correct, feeling my face blush. “Second, it’s huge. There’s literally no way. None.”
“It’sreallynot that bad,” Oliver assures me, and picks up the small bottle of lube to show me, as if that’s proving anything. “Whatever you’re thinking is worse than it is.”