Won't Go Slowly

Part 8

You'd forgotten how good it felt when things were new, and fresh, and exciting. Everything felt just a little lighter and brighter, and you were trying desperately to regain control over your brain.

Everyone else in your workspace had already cleared out for lunch, so you heard him coming before you saw him. You smiled at Tyler as he stepped into your office, holding your finger up to indicate you'd be just a minute, the phone cradled in the nook between your neck and shoulder. Tyler sat down in the chair that was set across from your desk, his hands braced on the arms, looking around your office at the degrees hanging on your wall, taking in the bulletin board you had filled with semester calendars and internship opportunities, as if he was actually curious and had never been in your office before.

Very slowly, he leaned forward, carefully turning one of the picture frames that sat on your desk around slowly to not make any noticeable noise to the person you were talking to on the phone You smiled, shaking your head, because he did this every time he came into your office. It was a picture of you, laid out across the grass with all three of his dogs clamouring to lick you and get your attention, your head thrown back, laughing.

He turned it around every single time because he insisted that every single student and faculty member who came into your office deserved to see that picture, even going so far as to say just seeing the cute dogs would really alleviate a ton of stress. Especially for the ones you complained about, those stressed students you'd meet with that were about to lose their minds. You'd eventually have to talk them down, and explain that their one course would not make or break their academic career. However, as you explained to him, you like to be able to see it out of the corner of your eye when you were on your computer.

"Ready?" Tyler asked after you'd hung up the phone.

"Mhmm..." you agreed, logging out of your computer with one hand as you stood up.

"Who're those from?" he asked playfully, eying the daisies you'd had set in an oversized glass on your desk. You just smiled, because he knew damn well who they were from. Tyler just smiled, nudging you with his shoulder, and you knew he was trying to get you to blush.

"I really like him," Tyler said, as you walked outside, heading to your go-to lunch spot on campus.

"You haven't even met him," you said, laughing as you breathing in the fresh air, enjoying how quiet it was on campus now that the summer semester had started.

"Doesn't matter," Tyler said casually, "He sent you flowers after you went out. And, from what you've told me about him, he seems like a good dude."

And he was, really, which is why you felt bad because, even then, you knew you were holding back. What's worse, was that the daisies were lasted a suspiciously long time, still thriving even though Thomas had then sent to your office two days ago.

You see, after the whole mix-up incident, you kind of thought you were done. When Thomas had texted you that night asking if your friend was still alive, you'd wanted to reply something witty. You'd wondered if you should wait before replying too, not wanting to see too eager or too intense. But, you weren't into playing games, so you'd just responded, "Hahaha. He'll live. But thanks for asking."

It was later that night, when you were crawling into bed that you'd gotten another text: 'Honestly, though, any woman who will let her friend run her Tinder for her must be pretty brave."

You'd laughed out loud, because, earlier that evening, Tyler had revealed to you that he had 7 dates all lined up for you and all you had to do was choose, and you'd had to tell him to cool it.