Geek Lust: Erotic Stories about Hot Nerds by F. Leonora Solomon Page B

line or something. Then again, maybe Mercury’s in retrograde.”
    She laughed. “I know,” she said, pointing at herself. “Me.”
    “Tiffany, get your fanny over to table four and take their order,” Al yelled as he came around a keg of beer. “This is a bar, not Match.com.”
    * * * *
    Bryant was playing Halo . Again.
    “Don’t tell me you’re trying the sprinkler thingie too,” Cyrus said as he stood on her front porch, looking up at the cloudy sky.
    “You have homework, young man,” Tiffany scolded her offspring as she pushed the front door open with her foot. Cyrus followed, giving up on waiting for an answer. She wasn’t in the mood to explain she didn’t have a storm shelter and her cottage was held together by glue and masking tape. Consequently she was willing to try any harebrained scheme to keep the twisters away, even going to a prayer service with her mother and reciting a litany of weather-related blessings.
    “You know, it’s not enough water—” Cyrus started again.
    “I don’t know how to subtract fractions,” Bryant whined, still looking at the game while pushing his glasses up.
    Tiffany’s home was small. As she marched across the stained shag carpet and turned the TV off, she also realized it was shabby and not in a chic way. The couch was ripped, the slip cover she threw over the recliner barely fit, plus Bryant had spilled orange Fresca on the coffee table last week and the stain was still there.
    “Fractions.” Cyrus’s face lit up as he dropped his duffel bag, along with his concerns about her sprinkler. “I know fractions.” He threw his shoulders back. “I was a mathlete in high school.”
    Tiffany wasn’t sure if she should laugh.
    “I’m a mathlete too,” Bryant said, throwing the controller down. “Junior mathlete,” he amended.
    Since Bryant was with the program, she didn’t so much as crack a smile.
    “Nothing’s wrong with that,” Cyrus said as the guys high-fived. “You’re still young. Eleven, right?”
    He glanced at Tiffany. Yeah, nerd boy knew the year he was in the spotlight receiving scholarships and academic awards while she wore her father’s baggy T-shirts trying to hide the blessing tucked in her tummy. Not that she was bitter.
    “You’ve got lots of time to go varsity,” Cyrus continued as he patted Bryant on the back, “So where are those fractions?”
    “Don’t you want to take a shower first?” Tiffany asked.
    “I’m good for now,” Cyrus pronounced after a quick pit sniff. Bryant giggled.
    “Well, then.” Tiffany smiled as she shook her head at him. “I’m going to take a shower because I smell like beer.” She gave her son a tickle between the ribs before heading down the hall. As she shut the door she could hear Bryant moaning, “She can be so uncool and that Dorothy costume is lame.”
    “Not sure I agree with you, buddy. She’s—” Cyrus started to say as Tiffany turned on the water.
    “Genetics can be a crap shoot,” Cyrus pronounced a few hours later after the fractions were solved and Bryant had gone to bed. Nine o’clock was early on a Friday, but he’d be at his father’s tomorrow night and only God knew what time he’d get to bed.
    Tiffany sat on one side of the couch while Cyrus twiddled his thumbs on the other. Her couch was saggy in the middle, and their knees touched. As she listened to the wind howl outside, she waited for him to explain. By the way, he’d cleaned up nicely. His hair was combed and glasses gone, she figured replaced by contact lenses.
    Cyrus pulled a pad and pencil out of his pocket. He drew x’s and o’s. “You’re a cheerleader and prom queen.”
    “Former,” she reminded him as she took a sip of her chamomile tea. The rain was pounding on the air conditioner.
    “Brandon’s a quarterback and—”
    “ Former ,” she said again. “Plus he’s a deadbeat dad and a supposedly recovering al—” She stopped. She made a promise to herself that if she ever had a date with