Thinking maybe they were exaggerating a bit with the whole the world just ended act, I followed his gaze and discovered that not only were my books scattered all over the place, there was also an architectural model lying on its side in the middle of the mess my stuff had made. It was not some simple cardboard thingy either—oh no. It looked like it was made of wood, and it was huge…huge enough that there was no way one person could carry it on their own…hence the four-person group.
Completely forgetting why I was in this mess in the first place, I dropped to my knees and reached for the scaled structure.
“I’m so sorry. Really, can I do—”
“Don’t touch it!” yelled the same guy who had spoken a second before as he slapped my hand away—actually slapped it. Surprised, I cradled it against my chest. He hadn’t hurt me or anything, but, I couldn’t even remember the last time my mom had slapped my hand away for trying to steal food from the table.
As the other guys crouched down to help their friend—while grumbling, might I add—I quickly glanced around to see that we had an audience. How nice. Just perfect; I’d always thought a red face did wonders for my complexion. The silver lining was that Dylan Reed was nowhere to be seen, and I couldn’t help but feel cold relief wash over me.
“Goddammit! You broke the door.”
“I’m so sorry,” I repeated, a little lower in volume this time, but the guys kept giving me angry looks. From what I could see, there was no real damage—other than said door, of course. When they chose to ignore me, I tried to focus on my own scattered notes and books on the ground. Thankfully, I had left my camera at the lab that day, otherwise I wasn’t sure it’d have been as lucky as the model building.
“I really hope it didn’t…” I noticed the guys straightening from their crouch, holding the building oh so gently between the four of them. I didn’t get to finish my sentence as I received one last death glare before they walked around me to hurry away.
Still on my knees, I sighed. What a great end to my already crappy day.
“Here, don’t forget this one,” said someone to my right. I froze again, my heart picking up speed.
My eyes slowly followed the big hand that was holding one of my art history books upside down, and then they kept following the long arm up to those spectacular shoulders, finally making it up to Dylan Reed’s amused gaze.
All the chitter-chatter of the passing students dulled. I closed my eyes in defeat and hung my head. So much for trying to run away.
“Hi,” he said, so simple, easy, smooth.
While my heart was doing a weird stuttering thing in my chest, I tried to get up from the ground, only to lose my balance. Dylan caught my elbow and righted me before I could topple over.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking away from his face as he let go of my arm and took a much-appreciated step back. I cleared my throat, as if that would make any difference. “Hi.”
God, I was so ashamed. Not only had I asked him if I could kiss him like a middle schooler when he had a girlfriend waiting for him outside just because I couldn’t back out of a dare, I’d also seen his penis…although seeing a penis wasn’t such a bad thing. Quite the opposite, really. I liked looking at a good penis; what girl doesn’t? But, on top of all that, now he’d seen me bulldoze some architecture majors.
How many times was I gonna make a fool out of myself in front of this guy?
“Hi,” he repeated, holding out my book again. I mumbled my thanks, grabbed it, and finally lifted my head up to see an infectious smile on his lips. It completely transformed his face. Those strong, sharp lines softened, and if he’d looked amazing before, when he smiled like that…it made me wanna be the reason for it, which only made him more irresistible. My own lips twitched in response, and I could feel my cheeks warm up under his piercing gaze.
“Uh, hey.”
“You didn’t tell me your name,” he said, smile still going strong.
I forced my gaze away from his curious one. “Oh?” Slowly turning away, I decided it was best to act like I didn’t know what he was talking about and simply started walking again.
“You remember me, right?”
I felt this was a good time to start on that power walk, burn some calories, get away from people. My escape wouldn’t be that easy though—he followed me, walking backward, keeping pace, studying me.
“Last year? At the end of first semester, some Greek party, don’t remember which one.” I sent him a quick, panicked look then looked away just as quickly when I realized he was studying me intently. “You know, I was in the bathroom, then you came in and asked me if—”