“Pete, Jed Carter. Jed, meet my cuz, Pete Morgan. You guys have a lot in common.” Bud gave them a suggestive wink.

Taking pity on him for being at Bud’s mercy, Pete nodded at Jed and said hello. Jed said hello back and then looked down at his drink.

“I’m gonna go get a pitcher for me and my roommate,” Pete tried again, letting Jed decide what to do from there. He had started walking to the bar when he heard the scraping of a chair and Bud’s obnoxious “Woooo, get it!” behind him. He turned to see Jed coming after him, stopped, and waited for him.

“Sorry about my cousin,” Pete said. Jed’s face opened, and he smiled sheepishly. Okay, yeah, he’s pretty cute when he smiles.

Just then, Pete spied Aidan entering the club entwined with yet another guy, this time a tall, stylish theater major. Wonderful. Pete turned his back to him, hoping Jed could distract him from his Aidan obsession.

“How about coming over to my table so we can talk without Bud breathing down our necks?” he asked Jed. Jed nodded, looking so happy that Burt Reynolds’s line from some movie popped into Pete’s head: “Relax, I’m not that good.”

After getting the pitcher, they sat down at the table that now included John and Cleo. The conversation between Pete and Jed progressed slowly, due to Jed’s inarticulateness and the fact that they couldn’t seem to find one thing in common to talk about. But Jed was kind of hot in a jock sort of way and seemed eagerly interested in everything Pete had to say. Pete tried to overlook the fact that the last movie Jed had seen was Transformers 3. John was always telling him to stop being such a film snob.

Karaoke provided a welcome distraction. The machine at the front was in constant use, and as they talked, they were subjected to off-key renditions of everything from “Billie Jean” to “Somebody That I Used to Know.” Matthew, who Pete hadn’t even realized was there, ran up to the front with a couple of other grad students. Donning sunglasses, they gave a rousing performance of “Great Balls of Fire.” Pete smiled, enjoying the sight of Matthew jumping all over, making a fool of himself and getting the whole place laughing.

In contrast, Aidan lounged against a wall the entire evening, letting the guy he was with hang all over him as he surveyed the room. Finally, he sauntered to the front and took the microphone while the crowd paused expectantly. Aidan’s vocal prowess was well known. As he karaoked the shit out of “Sexual Healing,” Pete let his eyes wander to the bulge in Aidan’s skin-tight pants and stifled a groan.

To his surprise, Aidan eventually came over to their table (the guy he was with having disappeared somewhere), along with Matthew. Angie invited them to sit down, moving over to make room for Matthew, who was being his friendly and funny self and soon had her doubling up with laughter. Pete was glad for Angie that a guy was paying her attention, even as he felt for Brian, who gazed morosely into his glass of 7-Up.

As the drinks flowed and the conversation got more lively, Pete tried not to stare too much at Aidan, who sat across from him, leaning back in his chair and looking good enough to eat. They were debating the merits and drawbacks of their professors, with Matthew throwing in jokes and Jed, who was in the business school, watching silently.

“Constantine’s a pretentious git,” Brian said, Angie giggling at his vehemence. “I mean it. Just because his name is the same as a famous Roman emperor, doesn’t make him God’s gift to the history department.”

“What about Professor R?” Aidan asked, and Pete winced inwardly. “Didn’t you say you’re in his Film Aesthetics, Pete?”

“Yeah, me and Angie are.”

The color rose in Angie’s cheeks. “Well, I like Professor R.” She gazed around the table with a defiant air.

Pete was about to change the subject when Cleo frowned. “I really detest the guy.” She said to Matthew, “I don’t know how you could stand working with him on the film fest last year.”

Matthew shrugged. “He’s not that bad. The guy’s brilliant.” He then turned to greet some third-year girls who had stopped to say hi to him.

Aidan favored Pete with a green-eyed stare, lips curved in a small smile. “What do you think of Professor R, Pete? I saw him advising you at the amphitheater last week.” There was a world of innuendo in the way Aidan said the word advising.

Matthew turned back to the table and looked sharply at Aidan before glancing over at Pete, while at the same time Cleo gave an angry snort. Angie appeared mutinous, and Brian studied her with a worried expression. The only ones at the table who seemed unaffected by Aidan’s mention of Professor R were Jed, who was yawning and looking bored, and John, who was stroking Cleo’s hair while he swigged his beer.

Pete felt his face flush as everyone waited for his answer. Aidan in particular appeared to be watching him closely, which didn’t help his composure.

“Um. Yeah, he’s okay. I mean, he’s a good teacher and ... yeah.” He gulped down some beer, feeling like a bonehead, but after Angie’s reaction at the apartment, he knew enough not to say what he really thought of Professor R.