to the one I was standing near.

I could feel my cheeks beginning to warm to a rosy complexion with the rising embarrassment that I was struggling to deny. I’d had my eye on Ken since move-in day when I first saw him carrying a little 19” Orion television down the Winfield dorm hallway. I had hoped to God that he was heading for my room. But no, I got stuck with fucking Tim Cronin.

As I turned away to hide my blush response and begin loading my laundry into the washer, I heard Ken rummaging through his change-bag behind me. As I saw his shape begin to enter my periphery, I turned quickly to meet him as if I didn’t see him rounding the folding table toward my side of the little laundry room. We nearly collided as he stopped quickly, inches away from my chest. He was nearly a full head taller than me, looming over me like a lion stalking its prey. I could feel the heat radiating off of his long, well-developed body and smell the musky scent of his aftershave wafting down with each exhale of his warm, moist breath.

“This ought to get you started,” he nearly whispered to me while placing a small handful of quarters into my own palm. As he let loose the change, the tips of his fingers lightly feathered against my palm, sending shudders up and down my spine. His fingers were thick and firm, but their texture was quite soft. This surprised me, given that Ken had come here on a Lacrosse scholarship. I figured his hands to be much more calloused.

“Thanks. Yeah, that’s a good start,” I responded in the same hush of a whisper, staring up into those gold-spotted emerald eyes. There we lingered, faces inches apart, drawing in each other’s breaths. I lost control of myself. I couldn’t help it. The moment had claimed me and I was powerless to do anything but what it wanted of me.

I threw my arms around Ken’s waist, letting the small handful of quarters fall helplessly to the tiled floor below and forced my beckoning lips against his own. Ken pulled back almost immediately and pushed himself away from me. But there was an ‘almost’. There was a moment inside the moment where he remained. And it wasn’t the kind of lack of response that comes with shock or surprise. There was a definite linger in his response to my kiss that denoted a thought process… a curiosity… perhaps even a snippet of genuine interest.

This time, I decided to not let my embarrassment get the better of me. I just stood there, staring him down; letting him know that I wasn’t ashamed of what I’d done. Slowly dragging the back of one hand across his full, fleshy lips, he backed up against the folding table and stared back at me with a look of combined bewilderment and confusion.

“I’m sorry. I think you’ve made a mistake…” he started.

“Have I?” I interrupted, trusting that the vibe I’d felt was genuine. “It’s okay, ya know?” I continued, coaxing him into relaxing into the moment.

“It’s just that… ya know… if the guys on the team find out that I’m…” His words stumbled and stuttered from his lips like a car on the verge of running out of gas.

“Find out if you’re what?” I interjected. “Find out that you’re hot as fuck? That you’re built like a