“Thank you,” I exhaled.
He offered no words. Instead, he gave me slight smile and helped me to my feet. His dark, almost black, eyes took extra time to make sure I was okay. My focus needed to go anywhere but him. I looked down at my box, now merely a cardboard slab piled high with stuff. I wanted to ask his name, but I couldn’t summon my voice.
Then, as surprisingly as he arrived, he left as if he did this sort of thing every day. I watched him go, his powerful strides every bit as mesmerizing as I suspected. If only I had more time, I could have offered to buy him a coffee, but I was late enough as it was.
I hurried across campus, careful not to drop my load again. Waiting around for someone to take pity on me and open the door to Caleb’s building, I thanked the haggard-looking student with a smile. She yawned, clearly not suited to morning classes.
“Are you gonna make it… wherever you’re going?”
“I think I’ve got it from here,” I told her.
All the rest of my journey was free of shut doors. I even found Caleb’s office open, and I was never more grateful to see my own desk in all my life. Dropping the remnants of the box onto the desktop, I peeled off my blazer. Broken box carrying wasn’t a recognized sport, but it should’ve been.
“Damn urban heat islands,” I muttered under my breath. “Why does Chicago have to be so freaking hot?”
I’d lived in Illinois all my life, but it never ceased to baffle me how northern cities could be so hot even in September. Nothing about the last rays of summer sun felt friendly.
It was only the beginning of the day, though. I consoled myself with the fact that the next day wouldn’t be so hard. There would be no broken box, but there might not be a handsome stranger either. Winded from my long sprint, I bent over my bag to fish out my glass water bottle. I didn’t even notice Caleb entering the room until he set a traveling coffee mug down on my desk.
I noticed a twinge of something like guilt in my belly. A different kind of heat flushed over my cheeks. Here I was in Caleb’s office, fantasizing about another man. There was no rationality behind the sensation. I wasn’t dating Caleb, and I hadn’t even had a full conversation with the mystery man. Caleb cleared his throat nervously, and I realized in a flash my satin camisole was sliding out from my skirt and up my back.
He could definitely see my back tattoo. Well, he could see the lower half, anyway.
“It’s a gladiolus flower,” I told him, tucking the fabric back down into my waistband.
Caleb feigned ignorance. “What is?”
“The tattoo,” I explained, turning to meet his gaze. “It’s a flower.”
I didn’t want a tramp stamp on my lower back, but my birth month’s flower growing up my spine felt, somehow, more socially acceptable. The stalk of the black-and-white drawing shot up my spine, and the blossoms stopped between my shoulder blades.
“Oh, I see,” he said roughly before clearing his throat. “There’s creamer and sugar packets in the fridge. You can fix it as you like.”
“I’m sorry?”
His blue eyes gestured to the travel mug. “Your coffee.”
I didn’t have any coffee with me. Not understanding, I blinked a few times before feeling like a fool.
“Oh, that’s mine!” I realized.
Caleb cracked that imperfect smirk. “Yeah, um, I usually make my own pour-over at home. I thought you might like some, especially after taking the time to clean up after me yesterday. I did take a guess as to how you might like it.”
“Oh.” I picked up the cup and took a sip. It was perfect. “Wow, this is amazing. Thank you.”
“I worked in a coffee shop during college. I, um, picked up a few things.”
“I guess a guy’s gotta get paid somehow,” I joked. “Stars can’t always pay the rent.”
His smile brightened, and suddenly, I could see a whole new side of my assigned boss. He was more than a sweater-clad academic. He was a man who tended his peace lily plant and fixed barista-style coffee drinks. His eyes could be kind when they weren’t distant, and according to his photos, he had a life beyond this campus that involved running charity marathons.
It was dangerous information. My professors always got the utmost professionalism from me. I drew hard lines and never crossed them, but my former collaborators never had a smile like that. They didn’t have tanned, toned arms, and they certainly didn’t give me fancy coffee to start my day.
As I took another sip, enjoying a note of salted caramel, I knew I was going to have to keep myself in line or risk falling into the depths of those baby blues.