His phone now chimed and I saw his brow come down too as he read a text message. “Fuck. I’ve gotta go.” He looked up at me and gave me his grin again. “How about you text me so we can make arrangements, okay?” I nodded then drew in a sharp breath when he ran the backs of his knuckles down my cheek, his eyes warm on mine. “Later,” he mumbled giving me another wink then he left.
I walked out of class stunned. How in the world had that just happened? As I strode to my next class, all I could do was shake my head at the events that had just transpired. Then my phone buzzed that I’d received a text. I blinked a couple times as I glanced at it because things had just gotten real.
Text Message—Wed, Aug. 13, 11:17 a.m.
Loch Powers: Hey again. Guess I was so blown away by your beauty I forgot to get your name. I’m Loch, by the way. Very nice meeting you. Hope to hear from you soon, gorgeous…
Frippity fracking frap! This was just all kinds of crazy. I glared at my phone for a couple more seconds then stomped the rest of the way to my next class probably looking like a goof as I did but whatever. Once inside the classroom and being seated, I pulled my notebook and pencil out of my bag then threw my phone inside it not wanting to look at again. Oh, he’d be hearing from me soon, all right.
And, boy, was I going to give him an earful.
Confession Number Three
“This is perfect!” Marcy said after I accosted her the minute she walked in the door that night and told her what had happened at class.
“How? How is this perfect?” I countered, freaking out a bit at her lackadaisical attitude.
“Let me change first and we’ll talk. Is the lasagna ready yet?” she asked as she walked toward her room.
“Five more minutes for the bread. Hurry!” I heard her chuckle. Ugh. I wanted to talk now but whatever. I could give her time to change. I guessed. In the kitchen I put the bread in the oven and paced a bit wondering how my running into my biggest adversary was perfect. I’d just gotten the bread out and was brushing it with butter when she finally came in.
“Smells great!” she announced as she pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge. “Yeah?” she asked and I nodded. While she poured the wine and set our glasses on the table she told me about her classes that morning then we both prepared our plates and sat. “What’s this salad dressing?” she inquired as she chewed, stabbing to get another forkful of lettuce.
“Tristan and Sky brought it back from Italy last month. She called earlier so I ran over and got it. It’s good, isn’t it?” My brother and his girlfriend Skylar, yes, the same girlfriend he’d had in high school, now lived together in a gorgeous house in a pretty swanky part of Seattle. He and I were both following in Dad’s footsteps by going the computer route which thrilled Dad to no end. Tris was a software engineer (which was what I was wanting to do) for a large company and making bank, well on his way to becoming a manager, and Sky worked at an interior design firm and was quickly building a clientele with her amazing skills. With the salaries they were pulling in, they were doing quite well and since they both loved traveling, they were taking advantage of it.
“It’s awesome,” Marcy garbled, mouth full.
“Nice, Marce.” I took a drink, felt I’d waited the necessary amount of time to keep from appearing crazed to hear what she had to say, then attacked the elephant in the room. “Okay, so how is it perfect that I ran into Loch?”
She grinned, her azure eyes dancing with mischief. “Wondered how long you’d hold out.” She smiled at my eyebrow raise. “Okay, running into him isn’t the perfect part. The perfect part is you’re gonna go out with him.” When I started to protest she held up her hand. “Let me finish.”
“Doesn’t sound so perfect to me…” I muttered.
“It will, though!”
“You’re way too excited. Does this involve some kind of psychological experiment or something?”
She laughed. “Hm. Hadn’t thought of that. I could use it as my thesis for Dr. Stone’s class. The Enigmatic Psychology of Revenge by Marcy Belton. I like the sound of that.”
“Quit stalling. What do you have up your sleeve, Marce?”
“All right, here’s what you’re gonna do, you’ll go out with him. And you’ll have a good time.”
“But—”
“You’ll wow him with your gorgeous self and your dry sense of humor.”
“But—”
“I’m sure he’ll ask your name, so you’ll tell him it’s Celeste, you know, your middle name—”