I let out a short breath that could have been a laugh if I had the energy. “Sure. Let’s blame Stats.”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t push. He looked down again, as if he’d heard the warning in my tone and decided not to test it.
A minute later, he asked, “So what’d you do today. Besides not sleeping.”
I stared at the ceiling for half a second, then back at the side of his head. His hair was still damp at the nape, like he’d showered recently. The room smelled like him and clean laundry and something faintly sweet.
“I went to the gym,” I said.
Jason’s pencil stopped.
He turned slowly in his chair, eyebrows raised, eyes bright with surprise. “Gym?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you mock me, too.”
His mouth opened, and then he looked genuinely offended. “Mock? Why would I mock you?”
I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re surprised I went to the gym.”
Jason leaned back, palms up in surrender. “No. I think it’s cool.” He paused, then added, earnest and a little helpless, “But…you should’ve told me. I could tutor you. Squid pro quo.”
I stared at him.
He stared back, blinking innocently.
“Quid pro quo,” I corrected, because I was physically incapable of letting that go.
Jason bit his lip.
The sight punched something warm and stupid through my chest.
“Oh,” I said, very flat. “You did that on purpose.”
His eyes gleamed with triumph. “Mm, it’s called humor. Remember?”
I huffed a laugh despite myself, then pointed at the paper with my free hand. “Get on with the assignment before I fall asleep.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, and his tone was light, but he still didn’t look away from me for a second too long. Then he turned back to the desk and finally started writing.
The scratch of pencil on paper filled the room, steady and mundane. It should have soothed me. It almost did.
Jason worked slowly, pausing often, erasing, muttering under his breath. Once, he glanced at me and asked, “This is mean. Like, mean mean, right.”
“It’s mean,” I said. “Not cruel. Just mean.”
“Statistics is a bully,” he grumbled.
“It’s a tool,” I corrected automatically.
He made a low sound of suffering but kept going, and for a while, that was all it was. Paper. Pencil. Peanut circling and settling at my feet like a warm weighted blanket that filled you with joy simply by being around. The edge of Jason’s concentration, theway his shoulders tightened when he got stuck, the way he exhaled sharply when he got something right.
The kiss stayed in the room with us anyway, uninvited. A third presence neither of us wanted to think about.
I shifted slightly against the pillow, trying to find a position that didn’t make my muscles ache. The gym had been a terrible idea. My body felt like it had been dismantled and reassembled by someone who hated me.
Jason’s voice drifted back to me. “If you’re tired, you can crash for a minute.”
I blinked. “I’m fine.”