“Thanks. Still another few days for the results. Waiting’s the worst.”
“Totally. I—” Jeremy’s foot slipped, and he clung to Max, wheeling his left arm wildly. Max skidded, and they fought for balance.
“That was close,” Max said, a warm puff of his laughing breath brushing Jeremy’s cheek. “One more street to cross, right?”
Jeremy’s heart raced as he glanced around. “Um, I think so?” The precipitation was fully snow now, and the world was just shadowy buildings, blinding starburst lights, and white. He shuddered at the thought of navigating it alone. “Thanks for helping me.”
“It’s cool. There’s another curb coming up.”
They made it to the residence building, sudden wind slamming the outer door shut behind them, the glass rattling. They stamped their feet on the mat, and Jeremy tugged at Max’s gloves, which came off easily since they were so big.
He handed them back. “Thanks again. I’m sure I’ll be fine now.” He pulled out his wallet and held it close to his face, looking for his access card.
“Dude, you really can’t see, huh?”
He grimaced. “Nope. But I’m okay. I’ve taken up enough of your Friday night.”
“I’ve brought you this far. Don’t want you to take a header now that we’re in the home stretch. Besides, I’d rather wait until they salt before I go back out. If it’s cool to hang for a bit?”
Jeremy’s heart skipped. Hang? With him? “Of course.” He fished out the card, immediately dropped it, then finally buzzed them in. “I’m on the fourth floor.”
Max handled the elevator buttons. Under the glare of the fluorescent lights, Jeremy could see that he had medium brown skin and was indeed tall, which made sense the way he’d tucked Jeremy under his arm. The details of his features were still a blur under a blue and white hat—probably a U of T toque—and Jeremy was eager to see his rescuer in all his glory. When they reached his floor, he unlocked his door quickly, almost dropping the key card again.
Now he just needed to find his old glasses.
“Um, sorry for the mess.” His sheet and duvet were a rumpled pile on his bed, which he knew not because he could see them clearly, but because they always were. He’d never been one for making his bed, which his mom had always nagged him about.
The hurt was a swift throat punch, and he choked it down.
Max laughed. “Yeah, this isn’t a mess, trust me. Can I help find your glasses?”
“I just need to think about where I’d have put them.” He sighed. “I’m sure it was in a very logical, safe place.”
Max chuckled. “I’m sure. It’s not a big room. Do you even have a roommate? This side barely looks lived in.”
“Yeah, Doug. He’s from Hamilton and goes home every weekend to see his girlfriend. He’s only here Monday to Thursdays, and he’s gone already since his program doesn’t do December exams.”
“Lucky bastard.”
Did Max mean having a girlfriend or not having exams? Jeremy just murmured in agreement. “Oh! I think I know where they are.”
He pulled a plastic storage container out from under his twin bed and fumbled with unsnapping the lid. Practically sticking his head in the box, he went through the random contents—health coverage paperwork, a spare power cable for his laptop, double-A batteries for his mouse, condoms—
Swallowing an embarrassed yelp, Jeremy thrust the Trojan box—unopened—back into the bottom of the container, hoping he was blocking Max’s view. The thin throw rug on the floor didn’t do much to cushion his knees, and he rooted around with increasing frustration.
“They have to be in here!”
“It’s okay. We’ll find them.” Max sounded completely confident, and somehow it helped, even though he had no way of knowing if it was true.
Jeremy’s fingers closed around the hard leather case, and he pulled it out with a triumphant cry. Max applauded, and Jeremy had to laugh. He quickly opened the case, hinges creaking, and put on the wire-framed glasses.
His prescription had gotten worse, so the periodic table poster he’d tacked up over his bed was a little fuzzy. But old lenses were still a heck of a lot better than nothing. He looked behind him at Max.
Holy. Crap.
Max’s short, dark brown hair was wavy and a little longer on top, messy from wearing the woolen hat that sat beside him on Doug’s bed. He had rich brown eyes, full reddish lips, and a strong and stubbly jaw with a little cleft in the chin that Jeremy wanted to lick.
He’d taken off leather ankle boots and left them beside Jeremy’s sneakers, his coat hanging on the doorknob. There was a hole in the big toe of his red sock, and jeans clung to his muscular thighs, one knee up as he lounged on Doug’s bed, leaning back against the wall. The forest green of his thin sweater outlined trim arms and a narrow waist.
Max waved. “You can see me now?”
Could he ever. “Yep!” Jeremy shot to standing, stifling the burst of attraction before he humiliated himself with a boner. What was he going to do now? Max looked like he was staying for a bit—right, waiting out the weather.
Jeremy belatedly shrugged off his raincoat. His jeans were uncomfortably damp, but he wasn’t about to take them off in front of a guy he’d just met. Especially since the guy in question was all sprawled and threatening to make him hard. His socks squelched, so he peeled them off, dropping them with a wet slap by his shoes.
“Do you want a drink?” Jeremy opened the bar fridge in the corner. Doug had brought it and said Jeremy could use it as much as he wanted as long as there was always enough room for a six-pack.
“Sure.”
Jeremy squatted and pushed up his old glasses on his nose. It felt strangely familiar and foreign to wear them again, like trying on old clothes that didn’t quite fit. “There’s water and Moosehead and…milk.”
Max laughed. “Hey, calcium’s important, right? But I’ll take a beer.”
When Jeremy stood, he tried to hide a wince. He gave a bottle to Max and kept one for himself, making a mental note to replace Doug’s stash. He walked gingerly to his own bed and perched on the side. His pasty feet were bare, and he scrunched the thin rug with his toes.
“You sure you don’t need a doctor?” Max frowned as he twisted the cap off his bottle. His extended leg was so long—and the space between the beds so narrow—that Jeremy could have leaned forward and touched that exposed toe without hardly moving at all.
“My lower back’s sore, but I’ll ice it. My butt took most of the fall.”
“Be careful with your tailbone, though. If your ass is sore tomorrow, get it checked out.”
“Yep. Right.” Just talking about sore asses, as you do. No big deal. “Um, I’m sure it’s fine.” Jeremy gulped from his bottle and stared at Max’s toe peeking out through the red sock. Otherwise, he’d stare at Max and probably look like a total creeper.
There was an electronic ping, and Max took his phone from his pocket and groaned. “I’m definitely not going to that party. My ex is asking where I am. Like I owe him anything after he dumped me.”
Jeremy almost choked. He? Max’s ex was a he?