Page 88 of The Tartan Thesis

Usage: To describe a fun-filled night where Scots gather, toast to haggis, recite poetry, give speeches, sing, and have a festive dinner together

It’s so cold I can barely think, but I can’t help but smile as I trudge through the grand old city of Edinburgh, majestic as ever.

Or maybe I’m just smitten.

Torin and I have been back at school for a couple of weeks, and while we haven’t made anything official, we’re spending more time together than before the holidays. He consistently comes to the shared office, we go to the gym together a couple times a week, and when he doesn’t have his head stuck in a book, we text constantly. Maeve’s noticed because of course she has. Every time my phone buzzes, she looks up, giving me a knowing smirk.

But I want more. More time. More of him. I want to touch him again.

But I don’t do it.

I know how important school is to him, so I’m keeping things casual and letting them build on their own. I don’t want to be the reason he loses focus.

But the truth is, I don’t know where his head’s at.

After spending Hogmanay with my hands and mouth on him for so much of the night, it’s like he’s now drawn a line and isn’t sure whether to cross it. So I stay on my side, too.

A blast of wind cuts through my coat and I hunch my shoulders, but it’s not the cold that’s got me wound tight.

Every time I think of him in my lap, my patience for casual diminishes a little more. I’ve never gone this long without sex, not by choice anyway, but I’m holding out for Torin. We’re not exclusive, but, as far as I’m concerned, we might as well be. Even if we haven’t said it. Even if he doesn’t know what he wants yet. Which is definitely a problem.

Yeah, I need to order more lube.

I whip out my phone and add some to my cart, then include some weightlifting straps for Torin. He’s getting into some heavy deadlifts and will need them soon. And I really hope we can put both items to good use before long. Thank goodness for one-day shipping.

I knock when I get to Isla’s house and stamp my boots against the step. Maeve answers.

“Beau!” she says and pulls me inside, shoving the door closed behind me, then kisses my cheek. “So glad you’re here!”

“Couldn’t miss my first Burns Night,” I say, taking off my coat and gloves, ears straining, listening for him.

“Yes, Torin’s already here,” she says with that all-knowing smirk.

“I wasn’t—” I sputter. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you were, and yes, you did,” she says, hanging my coat as I blush, and not just from the cold.

“Am I really that obvious?” I ask.

She glances back at me, eyebrows raised. “Again, yes. But it’s not just you. He’s not being shy about his interest in you, either. Not anymore.”

The tension in my chest and shoulders loosens. If Torin’s interest in me is apparent to her, then it’s not all in my head, which alleviates some of my concern about where I stand with him.

“Come on,” Maeve says, grabbing the bottle of whisky I’d brought, “let’s get you a drink, and you can spend the night staring at your crush.”

I blush again and follow her toward the noise. The room is already full, voices overlapping, glasses clinking, a mix of attire from casual to formal, tartan abounds. My eyes move automatically, scanning the crowd. I need to see him.

Another bit of tension releases from my chest when I find him, sipping from his glass and nodding at Isla and her boyfriend, Thomas. He says something that makes them both laugh. He’s smiling with them, not holding himself back, not hovering at the edges and looking for an escape. There’s a confidence in him I haven’t seen before, like he belongs. And God, it looks good on him.

I must’ve been staring for a while because Maeve returns and gives me a whisky and a little shove in Torin’s direction. I step toward him, and his eyes lock with mine, my heart fluttering as his smile grows. I’m grinning like an idiot by the time I make it to him.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I say back.

For a second, I forget where we are. I want to kiss him.

Isla clears her throat. She and Thomas are watching us, both wearing identical and infuriatingly knowing expressions. Ah, right. Room full of people. “Thank you for hosting this,” I say, pulling myself together.