By the time I’d reached the Natural History Museum, my mood was bleak. I sat in my car for a few minutes in the parking lot, leaning my head against the headrest with my eyes closed.
Mom had stayed with Roger because she loved him, but maybe if she hadn’t had me, she would have discovered the courage to leave him and find a new and better man to love. Saddled with a kid, she stayed, and because of that she’d provided me with a stable home life and a free college education. I had to respect and appreciate that. Of course, telling myself to feel appreciation was one thing. Actually feeling that way was entirely different.
I loved my mother, but I had a hard time understanding her decisions. We both deserved better, and even if she was content being the “other” woman, I was going to find someone who would love me and only me. I had my doubts that it was Bo. All of the reasons that I shouldn’t be with him flooded in. He was a Central student. A jock. He had a reputation for multiple conquests. Did I really want to be another statistic?
Having allowed myself a five-minute pity party in the toasty warm car, I killed the engine and stepped out into the cold afternoon. Snow was piled up in small hills against the sides of the parking lot, making it seem like a fortress. The once-pristine white mounds were discolored with engine exhaust, rubber refuse, and dust, making them the color of dirty socks—dingy and gray.
I was grateful for my rubber-soled and lined boots. They were ugly but serviceable, keeping my feet and calves warm and dry. But my skinny jeans weren’t much proof against the chill wind, and so I scurried inside as quickly as possible, clutching my notebook to my chest.
I paid the admission fee and asked for directions to the North American plant life and was instructed to go up to the third floor.
A text message alert chimed, and I pulled my phone out to read it.
Where are you?
At the entrance, paying.
Get your ass upstairs. I NEED YOU.
The museum wasn’t terribly crowded. There were a number of schoolchildren, but few of them were on the third floor by the plants. No surprise, though. Who wanted to look at plants when there were dinosaur bones and wild animals or even bugs?
When I got into the North American botany section, I noticed that it was completely empty save for Bo, who was seated with a notepad in his lap, and a museum employee, who stood over him talking animatedly with her hands.
My entrance wasn’t noisy but something caused Bo to jerk his head around. Even from here, I could see the wild expression in his eyes. I swallowed a laugh and tried to school my face to show no emotion. Clearly Bo felt like the hunted here, with the museum employee playing the role of the predator. My earlier depression flew away, and I felt my pulse kick up as he rose from the bench.
He called out rather loudly, “Sunshine, I thought you’d never get here.” By the end of his greeting Bo had reached me, his long legs eating up the room one lengthy stride at a time.
The honey blond museum employee followed behind, almost running to keep up. Bo’s hands pulled me close to him, and I could feel the notebook he still held in his one hand pressing into my shoulder blade.
“Um, hey,” I smiled weakly to the museum employee whose look of dismay was clearly etched on her face. Apparently she was hoping that Bo might be interested in some private tutoring. I snuck an arm around his waist and leaned my head against the side of his chest. It was firm and broad and lovely. If I were in the shoes of the museum employee, I’d be offering things to Bo, too, all sorts of things. But her attraction to him was a reminder of how many women were at the ready for Bo.
The young lady bit her lip and glowered.
“Thanks for all your help, Marissa,” Bo said, offering his hand. “Really appreciate it.”
Marissa took it and gave him a sloe-eyed glance, one that said clearly that she had more assistance to provide if only he would ask. “Any time,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it with both of hers.
When she didn’t immediately release Bo’s fingers, I took pity on the both of them and pulled Bo’s captured appendage out of her grasp and said in my best jealous, affronted girlfriend voice, “Let’s go, honey buns.”
Marissa wisely decided that she should move on and gave us a little finger wave as she walked past us to the exit. I turned to watch her leave and, as if sensing this, Marissa put a little extra swing in her hips. I had to hand it to her; looking sexy in khakis was tough to pull off, but she kind of had it going on.
Bo, on the other hand, did not watch Marissa’s show but was intent on pulling me toward the exhibit he’d been sitting in front of. We stopped at the bench he’d previously occupied and he gestured for me to sit.