outside the door to my classroom.
“What are you doing here?”
I’d wanted to see him in the sunshine, and I’d gotten my wish. He was even better
looking than I remembered, with his black hair, dark eyes, and sexy crooked smile.
“This was the only Japanese III class being offered this semester. I took a chance.”
I hesitated, not sure if this was nice or a little creepy. “Oh.”
He lifted a bag he held in his hand. “I brought lunch.”
His face, so full earnestness, dispelled any worry I had about his creepiness factor. We sat
outside and ate the lunch he’d prepared for us; peanut butter sandwiches, apples, and brownies.
“I bought the brownies, but I made the sandwiches myself.”
He handed me a soda. The September sun peeked through the leaves on the trees,
warming us as we sat on a stone bench and ate. He turned and straddled the bench to face me.
My cheeks got a little hot. I’d barely had time to pull my hair into a bun this morning. I wore
yoga pants and a hoodie, and not a touch of makeup. The longer Dylan stared, the more
uncomfortable I became.
“What?”
“Are you still with Max?”
I shook my head. “We broke up weeks ago.”
“But do you still love him?”
I decided the direct and honest approach would work best. “I never loved him and he
never loved me. It ended well. We’re better as friends.”
He grinned and the effect shocked me. An odd tingling sensation rushed through my
whole body. If his smile could do that to me, I had to wonder what his other parts could do. His
lips. His hands. Everything else.
He leaned forward and, for just a second, I thought he might kiss me. Instead, he got
really close and stared into my eyes. “That’s good news, Sam.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to be mine.”
My half-eaten brownie remained clutched in my hand as I tried to formulate a coherent
thought. I took a sip of soda and stared at him.
“That’s awfully direct, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Why pretend? It’s what I want. Why shouldn’t I be honest about it?”
“You hardly know me.”
“I know enough.”
He reached for my hand, lacing my fingers with his. It reminded me of our walk home
from the frat.
He let go of my hand and looked at his watch. “I’ve got to go. Can I see you later?”
“When?”
He gathered up our trash and tossed it into a bin. “How about dinner? Would seven work
for you?”
I hesitated only a second before answering. “Yes.”
“I’ll pick you up at the Theta house. Wear a dress.”
I stood next to him, holding my books against my chest. “I’m not sure if this is a good
idea…”
He touched my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. “What’s there to be unsure about?”
“You’re a nice guy, but I’m leaving in January. I’ll be in Japan for the whole semester. It
would be crazy to get involved with someone right now.”
“It’s dinner, Sam. No worries. No strings. Just food.”
“Just food?”
“Just food. I’ll see you at seven.”
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