Torrid Affair(3)

“Bissell House?” I whispered.

“Literally across campus,” Delaney huffed.

“Did I wake you again?”

“No, I snoozed for a bit but I can’t get comfortable. I probably need to get used to getting up early. I promised my mother that this semester she would see all A’s and I really need to get my shit together.” She yawned and sat up on her bed. Her raven hair was pin straight so it appeared almost blue, and her dark gray eyes were shaped like almonds, making her look exotic.

“We’ll see how long that lasts.” I smirked. Every semester she tried to get up early and get ahead of her classes. It usually lasted two weeks before she started waking up ten minutes before class began.

“Whatever. You’re the one who’ll be late.” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Late?” I looked down at the clock. I still had thirty minutes before class started.

“Bissell is across campus and University City Blvd has a lane closed because they’ve been doing construction all summer. Now you have to cut through campus with all the new freshman who have no idea where they’re going, which means traffic chaos. Hence, you’ll be late.”

Crap! “Shit!” I slammed my laptop closed, grabbed my stuff, and headed out of the dorm. There were two things I hated in life: lies and tardiness.

The warm Charlotte air still carried a scent of summer. Moving here from Chicago was a drastic weather change. I didn’t mind the heat, but I missed the fall months, the cool, crisp morning air that let you know winter was coming. It was the end of August and I was in a T-shirt and shorts due to the eighty-plus-degree weather.

Delaney was dead on about the traffic through campus. My fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter. A seam of sweat began to build down my spine, and my knee bounced up and down as the stress of arriving late started to rear its ugly head.

A few minutes later, I pulled into Bissell House. To my luck, there was a parking spot available. I released my death grip on the steering wheel and activated my blinker. Just as I began to turn the wheel, a Ford Explorer cut in front of me and took my spot.

“Seriously!” I shouted. The jackass hopped out of his car and strode past my car like nothing ever happened. “Are you kidding me! That was my freaking spot!”

“My bad,” was all he said and then continued to walk.

It took another ten minutes before I found an open spot and met up with the rest of the class. This was not how I wanted to start the semester.

“Every building has a style and its own history,” Professor Comeau explained to the class, which gathered around him in a half circle. His back was to the Bissell House as he continued. “Not only will you learn to read buildings, but you’ll know why they were built and for whom.” I stopped and stood toward the rear. “You.” He paused and pointed at me. The entire class followed his finger and I was greeted with their gazes, including the ass who took my parking spot. Of course he was in this class. Why else would anyone be at the Bissell House so early in the morning? “Is eight a.m. too early for you?”

I cleared my throat. “No, sir. It was a parking issue.” My gaze pulled away from the older man with the gray hair and a bushy beard and landed on the guy who had taken my parking spot. “It won’t happen again.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Professor Comeau continued with the syllabus, but parking spot stealer continued to stare at me. For the first time I stopped mentally cursing him and actually admired him. He was taller than anyone else in the class, lean, dressed in a graphic T-shirt and worn out jeans. His dark hair was trimmed short, and once my gaze focused on his eyes I couldn’t stop gawking. They were light green with hazel specks floating in them. Thank you, God, for blessing me with perfect vision. His eyes were captivating. The most beautiful things I had ever seen.

He gently licked his lips and smiled.

All the anger I had toward him vanished in thin air. This perfect man could have my parking spot any time he wanted as long as he smiled at me.

People began to move and someone bumped into me, shaking me out of his hold. I blinked and forced my legs to move. Professor Comeau had assigned us to study the Bissell House and four other buildings on campus. Two hours of staring at buildings and appreciating them? This would be the easiest class I had ever taken at UNC.

I took out my notepad and began to sketch everything I noticed about the building. Its four white columns, the double chimneys, the perfectly trimmed and manicured garden. I was counting the windows when I felt his presence near me. I swallowed the ball of nerves that had coiled in my throat and looked up at him.