Lovestruck

Summer…

Bone-deep exhaustion had Malia Adams dragging her muscles around like someone had tied twenty-pound weights to her. She nearly tripped off the bus and hitched her backpack tighter over her shoulder. All she wanted to do was get a decent night's sleep tonight. After a full day of classes and two back-to-back shifts, all she could think about was the siren call of her bed.

Luckily, she'd used her front desk shift to get work done for her project so she could just grab a shower and fall into bed.

Wait. Cookie first then bed. She'd bought herself a treat from Uncle Biff’s Cookies for acing her econ paper.

Damn, she could almost taste the chocolate. Uncle Biff’s Cookies were practically orgasmic. And considering the state of her love life, a cookie was as close to an actual orgasm as she was going to get. As she turned onto her street, she nearly ran into her next-door neighbor Mrs. Wilkes. "Oops. Didn’t see you there. Guess I was busy thinking about chocolate. You okay?” Her neighbor shook her head. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I knew he was an asshole, but I never thought he'd do something like this."

Malia frowned at her. "I'm sorry—what?"

"Your roommate? Rocco. I just can't believe he would put you out of your own place." Malia's belly went into free fall as beads of sweat popped on her brow. “What?"

Mrs. Wilkes eyes went wide, making her look like an emoji. "Oh sweetheart, you didn't know?"

Malia shook her head. "Sorry. I have to go." She took off at a dead run down the street toward her shared bungalow. When her living situation changed last year, her landlord had helped her find a room for rent. She mostly just needed a place to sleep, shower, and store her stuff. When she rounded the corner, she saw Mrs. Wilkes was right.

Rocco had put most of her meager belongings out on the lawn. "What the hell are you doing?" she yelled as she ran up to him. She didn’t have much. But she had her books and clothes. By now, she'd learned not to keep mementos. Because things could be so transient.

He had the good sense to look sheepish. "Malia, I didn't think you'd be back for a while."

"You didn't think I'd be back for a while? So you thought you'd just throw me out when I wasn't here?"

"Look, it's nothing personal. The thing is, Trudy, she wants you gone. She feels weird having you here."

God. Fucking Trudy. The girl had been a thorn in her side since Rocco started dating her earlier this summer. She'd been irritated with Malia at every turn, wanting to know why Rocco was living with another woman.

"Rocco, I need a couple weeks to find a place. You can't kick me out like this. Where am I supposed to go?"

"That's up to you. Look, this was a favor to Mr. Bola. But right now, I have to put Trudy first. Sorry about this."

"I paid you rent for the month! How is this even legal?"

He shrugged then pulled up forty dollars for her. "That should cover the rest of the month. And you aren’t on the lease."

Shit. He was right. "I have nowhere to go."

He shrugged. "Sorry. Not my problem.” And then he went back inside the apartment, leaving her on the sidewalk with her backpack, garbage bags, and her schoolbooks.

Now what the hell was she supposed to do?

***

Zephyr Donovan read the letter again. 

Dear Mr. Donovan,

We would cordially like to invite you to submit your application to the Tanashi Fellowship Program. Given your record at Columbia, you would make a great addition to the team. We, Hokuto and Hiro Tanashi, really hope you accept this opportunity. It is not often that we personally write to a potential fellow, but in your case, we hope we can do great things together.

Best, H&H Tanashi

Zephyr read the rest of the letter. Was this real? Could this be trusted? Is this what you want to do? 

Ever since the letter arrived for him last week, he'd been thinking about it. The Tanashis were freaking billionaires. What did they want with him? 

It's an opportunity you should take because you can't keep doing shit the same way. You can't stay where you are.

He couldn’t keep having the same nightmares. He couldn’t stomach the pitying looks of his family. This was a chance for a fresh start. 

His father knocked on his bedroom door and Zephyr glanced up. "Hey Dad."

"What's that?"

Zephyr took the letter and waved it. "This is an invitation for a job—for a fellowship actually."

His dad nodded. "Well, it is that time. You've got what, a year left at Columbia for your master's? Now is the time to be looking at jobs, opportunities."

What his father wasn't saying was that even if he had a job offer right now, it would take a good two years before he was ready to take it. What his father wasn't saying was that the job was too good to be true. And that's because he was his father. At the end of the day, he believed in him, or wanted to anyway, despite how many times he'd fucked up. 

And you fucked up a lot in the last year, didn't you? 

Zephyr scrubbed a hand on his face. "The letter is from Tanashi Corp. I've been offered the opportunity to apply. They wrote to me personally. What the hell am I supposed to tell them? That I'm too fucked in the head to take it?"

His father's brows snapped down. "What did you say?"

"Sorry, I thought Mom wasn't home." Zephyr's mother, Sera Donovan, was known to cuff the back of anyone's head who dared swear in her house. She said when they were all of age and old enough, they could say whatever they like. But as long as she still had young ones in the house, no one was to swear. And, considering that she was terrifying, everyone listened.

"No. Not your mother. Who did you say the offer was from?"

"Tanashi Corp. The Tanashis are fucking billionaires. I'd be an idiot to not consider the offer, or at least even write back and tell them something. Shit. What would I say?"

His father was quiet—too quiet. Zephyr slid him a glance, only to find that his face was white. He'd gone completely pale. "Dad, what's wrong?"

His father shook his head. "Look, I think that you need to focus on the task at hand. You’ve had a lot of setbacks this last year. You're only just now starting to get a hand on everything. I think taking on a fellowship or anything like that is a risk."

Zephyr frowned. "I know it's a risk. I know I'm probably not ready. But, I mean, come on Dad, at least sound like this is remotely exciting and you sort of believed I could do it."

His father frowned. "Zephyr, I have faith in every single one of you. It's just in this case I feel this isn't the best move for you. You're just starting to get your life back together after—"

"After what Dad?" Zephyr knew that neither of them needed to say it. What his father couldn't bring himself to add was after you fucked up. After you bit off more than you could chew and someone got hurt. Zephyr swallowed hard. There were days that he could still smell the blood. There were days that he could still feel the sting of the knife.

He shook his head. "Dad, I know exactly what I've been through. I also know that the idea of going back to Columbia legit gives me hives."

"Zephyr, it's fucking Columbia University. That's a big deal."

"You think I don't know that? You think I'm not well aware of that? I went there for my undergrad. Because of my professors, I chose to stay for my master's. I know what a big deal Columbia is. And since when do you care anyway? You've always said that wherever we wanted to go, whatever made us happy, you'd support it. Now you care about the damn school name?"

His father cursed under his breath and then out of habit surreptitiously looked around for his wife. "Listen to me. Columbia is where you belong. This past year notwithstanding, you loved every minute of it. So let's just get you back to where you were."

"Dad, I'm never going to be back to where I was. I can still see it. It doesn't matter how much therapy I have, it doesn't matter how much I can pretend that everything is okay. I can still see it. I can still taste the blood seeping through my mouth. I can still feel it. That's never going to go away. I still live with knowing that even though I knew how to fight, how to defend myself, I still lost. She still lost." He waved the letter. "This, this is a chance for me to start fresh. Carnegie and Columbia have a partnership. I can see if the fellowship allows me to finish my course work. Or if it counts toward continuing my course work, I should seriously consider this." He hadn't realized how badly he wanted a fresh start until he just said it. Maybe it was running away, but God, he could really fucking use it right now. 

"I didn't raise a quitter. Besides, at least at Columbia, your mother and I are close. In case anything—"

"In case anything happens you mean? Dad, I'm twenty-three. What happened this last year was shitty. Yeah, I was a mess. I still am. But I don't need my fucking parents babying me. I have to move on with my life at some point. This would help me to do that. Even you have to see that."

"You're not moving on with your life. You're just running away from it for a while. Those demons are still going to chase you until you deal with them."

Zephyr stood off the bed and glowered at his father. He hated that he still had to look up to the man. But when your father was six feet three inches tall, there was no avoiding that. He was six foot one himself. But somehow, his father had a way of making him feel like he was a little kid. "I need this. I need to feel like I'm not all fucked up and broken."

"You're running. It's a mistake."

"Yeah, well, mistake or not, I'm doing it. You going to try and stop me?" 

His father glowered at him. "Well, looks like you've already made a choice, right? Never mind what your mother and I would think about this. Never mind that we are terrified for you. You will have to be the one who tells her."

"What is wrong with you? I'm telling you I need to do this, and you're acting like I'm doing something to you."

His father shook his head. "It's your life, Zephyr. Make the decisions. That also means that you bear the burden of the mistakes."

Zephyr's heart pinched. Direct— fucking—hit. But instead of backing down, instead of prodding his father for all the reasons, Zephyr doubled down. "Great. Since I'm already the family fuck-up, I wouldn't want to disappoint anybody. I'm doing it. I'm going to send my portfolio today. Since they wrote to me personally, I kind of think that I'm on their short list."

Instead of the anger he expected in his father's eyes, all he saw was sadness. Then his father shook his head and left Zephyr’s room without another word. 

Fall…

Zephyr’s life changed with a laugh.

A low and smoky laugh that was like a feather-light, electrical stroke over every nerve ending in his body. One laugh had him rooted to the cold concrete of Livingston Hall, unable to fucking move even as his brain gave the command for his lungs to do their inhale, exhale thing. They choked, stuttered and stilled on the command.

That tu-tu-tu-tu-tu sound of an engine failing to catch was the same one his heart was doing right the hell now. Because of a laugh?

He craned his head in the direction of the sound, but he couldn’t see who it was. It was coming from the direction of that waiter with his back to him.

Move, damn it.

The waiter leaned down and his shoulders shook as he spoke to someone.

Come on, come on. Just move. And then he took a step to the left as if answering Zephyr's silent plea.

Oh shit.

Honey blond hair in a wild array of corkscrew curls was what he noticed first. The curls framed a heart-shaped face and wide eyes. From here, they looked dark, but that could be the lighting.They tilted up at the corners and from where he stood, he could tell they were framed by thick, dark lashes.

And then his gaze fell to her lips. Full, slightly curving at the corners like she was always on the verge of a smile.

He. Was. So. Screwed.

His whole body screamed, That one.

Nope. He needed to remember the last time he got tangled up with a woman.

That was different. No. It wasn't. And there was a part of him that still hadn't recovered from what had happened. So back away before you get stung. But the stampede of his heartbeat coupled with the rush of blood in his head made it difficult to use brain cells. Everyone else milled around him like nothing was happening. As if they weren’t witness to the girl with the too full mouth and the seductive laugh that sounded like smoke and sin.

All roar, all power, crashing through him and owning him in that moment.

Zephyr had never given much thought to how or why he would fall in love for the first time. After all, he was a guy. Butterflies and puppy dog eyes were things his sisters talked about. Okay, well not all of them, but shit, right now he had a plan for his life. Plans that didn’t leave time for anything else. Especially not a girl.

This is not the plan dumbass. He had left New York for a reason. So why couldn't he look away?

He had no idea just how long he stood there staring at her, but at some point, his faculty advisor, Dr. Sprouse snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. “Mr. Donovan? Are you all right?”

Zephyr tried to shake off the fog of the spell and focus on the words. But shit, that was a herculean effort, and the blonde was easier on the eyes than Dr. Sprouse, so his attention was divided. He gave his advisor a quick nod before turning his attention back to the girl.

But in that blink, she was gone.

###

Over the last couple of months, faculty events had become a savior for Malia. It meant she would be able to eat for free. College students everywhere had made sneaking into faculty events an art form. For her it was survival.

Good news tonight was that Malia actually had a legitimate reason for being here … besides the free food. Professor Jessalyn Rand.

She was the professor of Practical Business Application and she had an open TA position.So the plan was come here and woo Professor Rand. Get the TA job. Ride off into the sunset. All that happily-ever-after bullshit she didn't believe in.

Her stomach grumbled. Apparently, it had other plans. Given her crazy schedule and work hours, oftentimes the student cafeteria had stopped serving food by the time she was out of work. So she’d had to get creative when it came to dinner … or breakfast. Like faculty events.

Job first, then basic needs.

She didn't even want the TA job, really. She was worried it might distract her from her end goal of working for Tanashi Corp. But the TA gig came with housing. And right now, survival trumped everything.

"Eyes on the prize, Adams," she muttered to herself.

She just hoped the dress was appropriate. She’d borrowed it from her best friend. Though she wished she’d tried it on at Emily’s first, then she would have known the damn thing had a daringly low dip in the back. She was trying to project competent TA vibes, not sexpot vibes.

One of the waitstaff strolled by with canapés and she flagged him down. “Hey, do you know where I can find Professor Rand?”

His gaze flickered over her and he grinned. “Well, hello there. Can I interest you in a canapé, or my number perhaps?”

Malia couldn’t help the immediate bark of laughter.“Wow, bold. You have much success with that line?”

His grin was all teeth. “About fifty-fifty. But fortune favors the bold I’m told.”

Malia gave him a quick, appraising once-over. He was cute in that boy-next-door kind of way, right down to the baby blues, sandy brown hair, bright smile and a flash of dimple. But she wasn’t here boyfriend shopping. Her life was far too complicated for that shit right now. “Sorry, not this time. I’m just looking for Professor Rand.”

He clutched a hand over his heart. “Ouch. Struck out. It’s too bad, seeing as I’m one of her favorite graduate students.”

Malia lifted a brow. “Oh, really now?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. I just wanted to increase the likelihood you’d give me your number.”

“Sorry. No dice.”

He shrugged even as he chuckled. “Fair enough. Worth a shot. Sorry to say, she’s not coming.Her kid is sick or something. I guess you’re here about the job? And not the charming and intelligent graduate student serving canapés?”

Despite her heart doing a belly flop straight down to her gut, she gave him a wan smile. “I’m here for the job.”

And the free food. Damn it. She’d been counting on tonight to make her pitch.

He shrugged. “Sorry. You can try during her office hours. Let me know if you change your mind. Maybe a coffee with me can lift your spirits.”

Malia sighed. Yeah, not helpful dude. She worked during Rand’s office hours, which was why she was trying to catch her here. “Yeah, thanks for that.” She was just going to have to try another tactic. One way or another she was getting that TA job.

A shadow of gloom settled on her shoulders like an unwanted wool cape in the middle of summer. The fear and worry and desperation mixed a rancid cocktail in her belly.

She'd been barely surviving the last three months. She worked several night shifts then slept in one of the comfort chairs in the student center for a few hours in the mornings between classes. The library also afforded a decent place to sleep. None of those options was comfortable, but between that and crashing with friends it meant not actually sleeping on the street … yet.

But she wasn't an idiot; she knew so far, she'd been lucky. So far, no one had asked any questions. She hated the constant lying, but she didn't want to see that look on someone's face. Pity. She could figure this out. After all, there was no one coming to save her. She had to save herself.

Malia gripped the edge of the appetizer table and forced herself to take a deep breath. One step at a time. She could do that. She could do this. She could do anything. Right now, food. Then she was going to get that job. All she had to do was put on her best stalker hat.

But as worried as she was, the hunger won out. She’d had two classes back-to-back after her morning shift at the student center desk, so she was starving.

There were an array of puff pastries and tasty looking dessert cakes. So if she was slick enough, she’d have dinner and breakfast tomorrow morning. And if she was lucky, lunch tomorrow.

Her work schedule tomorrow was brutal. She had class in the morning, then she’d have to take the kids she babysat to the museum. Although she loved kids, these particular ones were hellions. But she’d do what she had to do because the family paid her twenty dollars an hour.

And none of that will stay in your pocket.

Yeah, she couldn't think about that right now. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t a luxury she had. Quickly, she snapped open the Tupperware inside her purse and scuttled some of the appetizers inside. Dinner … and breakfast tomorrow.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she furtively glanced around, wondering if someone was going to come up to her and ask if she was in that department. Short answer, yes, but this was a graduate student party. Hence the better food.

Really though, if they didn’t want party crashers, they needed to stop publicly posting the events.

“You should try the puff pastries. I think they’re better.”

Malia whirled around, her heart hammering against her ribs and she lost her footing. The stupid heel of her sandal caught at the end of the tablecloth and she tripped, falling backward.

“Oh shit!” She braced herself for the hard fall, but nothing came. Instead, strong hands wrapped around her and pulled her up into a wall of muscle. Instantly, with her senses on hyper alert, she took stock: strong hands, rock hard chest, and incredible scent. Heat enveloped her and for several moments she couldn’t think.

Jesus! Work out much?

“Easy does it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You okay?”

Malia blinked, trying to assess if all of her limbs were still attached. Oh God! Her purse! Nope. It was still on her arm. And hopefully closed so he wouldn’t see what she’d been doing. Okay, everything was fine. Relax. Nothing to see here folks. When she looked up, she was staring at broad shoulders.

Very, very broad shoulders. And her breasts were pressed against muscle. She lifted her head and had to keep lifting until she met his dark gaze. Words? What the hell were words?

Her own version of Captain America gave her a lopsided smile, brandishing straight, white teeth. Between that ridiculous smile, chiseled jaw, and the inky dark hair flopping artfully into his face, she was done for. His hair looked so thick and silky she wanted to slip her hands through it. No, we will not touch a stranger because it’s creepy and hello, stranger danger.

“Yeah, thank you for that. I don’t know what happened; I just —” Her words caught in her throat.

He hadn’t let go.

Instead he was staring at her and she was suddenly all too aware of him. All of him.

The way the scent of ocean breezes and a hint of musk wrapped around her, invading her senses, making her dizzy, his warmth seeped into her usually too-cold skin. She wanted to nuzzle in and stay there forever.

Every single one of her senses screamed ‘Danger, Will Robinson! Danger!’ For several moments, Malia didn’t want to heed the warning. But survival instincts kicked in, and she pushed against his chest lightly. For a moment he frowned, but then he shook his head and released her. “There you go. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You said that already. Find a larger vocabulary. “Terrific!” Oh yeah, that’s a winner. “Just trying to assess, you know, the event.”

He laughed. “I see Carnegie University is the same as Colombia. Faculty events beat cafeteria food. That’s for damn sure.”

His easy smile put her at ease. “Yeah, honestly, you think the university would try harder.” She needed him to go so she could get more of this underrated food. As good-looking as this guy was, he probably didn’t have any cares at all. She, on the other hand, did.

Stop flirting with the guy. “Well, I’ll just um, I guess, try one of these.” She picked up the puff pastry and a napkin then tried to scoot around him.

“Hey, don’t I even get a name?”

A name … He wanted a name? “Um …” What the hell was she supposed to say? Well, for starters, most people would just give their name, except he was flirting and she was out of practice. And given her life and her scenario right now, flirting with a cute guy at a faculty event was not wise. There would be that inevitable moment where he wanted to pick her up for a date, or come over. Then what would she say? “Um, my name is Eva.” When in doubt, give your sister’s name. “I’m going to get some air.” She hustled herself out to the balcony without looking back.

Her skin felt too clammy and hot. Her breathing was slightly ragged. What the hell was wrong with her? He wasn’t the first cute guy to ever hit on her. But something about him pierced her armor. It worried her. Right now, it was all about survival. And she really didn’t have time for this. Besides, getting close to people and trusting them, well, it’s a risk of you getting hurt. It was a risk of you being disappointed. So it was best she left the cute guy inside just where he was.

Cute? Are you blind?

Okay fine, he was more than cute. That guy had model good looks, and he smelled freaking insane. He was like a walking, talking perfume ad. One that you can’t touch. But that was fine because she didn’t need to touch him anyway.

It was as if her whole libido had woken up for the first time in almost two years, which was inconvenient as hell. See earlier about not having time for any of that.

“I figured maybe fresh air was a great idea.” There he was again, invading her senses.

Malia sighed. “A girl could start to think you’re following her.”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re the most interesting person I’ve talked to tonight. So please don’t leave me to my own devices in there. These graduate student fellow things are so boring.”

She studied him. She would have pegged him for maybe twenty-two or twenty-three.

“So you’re not a party crasher?”

He chuckled and the low timbre did something to her lady parts.“Well, it was opened up for the whole department. Business Marketing—I know, exciting, right? Half of these guys will go somewhere like the Silicon Valley or to New York Stock Exchange and talk about futures and things that most of us don’t even understand. The secret that they’re hiding is that they don’t understand it either and they’re bored to death.”

Malia giggled. “You’re probably not wrong about that.”

He leaned forward and with his voice low he said, “Something tells me that you’re not one of the graduate student fellows?”

Malia put a hand on her chest. “Who, me? I don’t know what made you say that.”

His laugh was instant. It was low and warm and it melted on her like sugar as he threw his head back. “Well, I was an undergrad once. Dress the part, sneak in, get some free food. It’s the way of college life.”

“Yeah, you caught me. But with my work hours, the cafeteria is not always convenient. Besides, have you eaten the food there? These appetizers may not be foodie fare, but at least they’ll do.”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t disagree with that. I’m Zephyr. You ran away before I could tell you my name. You should probably know the name of the guy who saved you so you know when you build a shrine to me later …”

Malia barked a laughed. “Oh boy, you think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

He stared at her for a moment before speaking. “Hey, I have to. I mean did you see that in there? Damsel-in-distress saving. I’m going to get my own Marvel movie in a minute.”

She studied him up and down, her stomach knotting low as something long and dormant sat up and stretched languorously. “You know, I could see that. Do you have any magic powers?” The moment the question was out of her mouth she regretted it.

First of all, her voice had gone a little low and flirty, like she was about to give him some seriously good dirty talk. Second of all, there was just something suggestive about the way it came out which she didn’t intend. Sure you didn’t.

His gaze narrowed imperceptibly and out came that grin. “Well, since you asked, I have a few talents. All of which I would be more than willing to show you.”

And there it was. Jesus. Panties dropped.

When was the last time she’d actually flirted with someone? When she worked at the bar, most of the guys there just tried to grope her, which earned them a sharp tongue lashing for their efforts. Sometimes a drink got thrown; a few even earned the threat of the baseball bat underneath the bar.

She knew how to take care of herself. But she was ill-equipped for a scenario like this. Especially since you know you can’t do this. She shifted on her feet. “Oh, well, that sounds—”

She didn’t get to finish because on the lawn just past the balcony, a couple walked out. The guy was following hot on the heels of the girl, who looked like she was angry or irritated. “Dan, I told you, we’re done.”

“Well, I don’t know what you mean by that,” Dan sputtered.

The girl tossed up her arms. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Dan, if that was his name, crossed his arms and planted his feet. “Well, I just don’t accept that. You just haven’t taken enough time to get to know me yet.”

Next to her, Zephyr chuckled. “Man, oh man. I mean, it’s not like he can convince the girl that she was wrong and she actually wants to date him.”

Malia laughed. “Worst second date in the history of second dates.”

Zephyr’s chuckle was low. “Oh, how can you say that? Clearly, he took her mini-golfing and then you know, standard paddleboats on a lake, the height of excitement.”

“Hey, I like the idea of paddleboats on the lake. I think that’s sweet and romantic.”

He shook his head. “Those boats leak. Besides, there are a lot more romantic, original ideas for a date.”

She raised her brow. “Oh, are there?”

“Yup.” He nodded with a grin. Their friends over the balcony were forgotten for a moment. “If you go out with me, I could show you.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t date. My life is really complicated right now.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded as if he understood. “Oh, I get it. You’ve got a husband and five kids at home.”

Malia laughed. “No. No husband, and honestly, I do not have the birthing hips required for five kids.”

He guffawed again. “From where I’m standing, your hips look pretty perfect.”

Her skin flushed. No, we are not standing here flirting with a hot guy. We’re just not doing it. Oh come on, let yourself indulge for just a moment.

For just a second, she could pretend that she was just any other girl who was about to get a date with a hot guy. And not just any hot guy, the kind of guy that made others pale in comparison.For starters was his height. He had to be over six feet. He clearly worked out. Nice, broad shoulders and she’d already been pressed up against his body. That chiseled jaw looked like he belonged to magazine covers. And that hair, Jesus! His dark eyes were gently curved and surrounded by thick, sturdy lashes. His lashes looked soft as mink. And his skin was that beautiful, golden-kissed color, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun.

“If you go out with me, I can regale you with a shit ton of movie quotes. It’s kind of a thing.”

Malia raised a brow. “‘Everybody knows when you make an assumption, you make an ass out of you and umption.’”

He raised his brow, impressed. "‘Yeah, Zeus! As in, father of Apollo? Mount Olympus? Don't fuck with me or I'll shove a lightning bolt up your ass!’"

She laughed. “So now that I see that we both enjoy Samuel L. Jackson quotes, I’m even more sorry I have to call this a night. I’m going to go back inside and sneak some more appetizers, you know, for lunch tomorrow, and pray I don't get seen.”

He laughed. “I’ll stand watch.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You can stand watch all you want, but I am not sharing.”

“Oh come on. I’m going to take the risk and be your watchdog, the least you can do is share.”

Damn. She liked him. He was cute and fun. And he understood her Samuel Jackson movie-quote love.

“Well, Zephyr, it was nice to meet you, but I have to get to work.”

She turned, walking away. Every cell in her body willing her, pushing her, trying to force her to turn around and go back to him because this was the most fun and the lightest she had felt in weeks. But she knew how that would end … in disaster. She really wasn’t looking forward to that. Besides, he had that kind of easy countenance that made her think she would like him too much. And that would get her hurt.

But he didn’t give. “Eva, why don’t you get the appetizers you need to get, and I’ll at least walk you to work. It’s the least I can do. It’s dark out. My mother taught me to be chivalrous.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him no, but she didn’t. Because you’re a glutton for punishment. Why taunt yourself with something you can’t have? “Fine.”

When she had a separate container full of lunch and dinner for tomorrow at least, she let him walk her across campus. It was easy to talk to him. Too easy. In the quick five-minute walk, she found out that he came from New York and was here on a fellowship program. He asked her out twice more, both of which she shut down. He had an obsession with Samuel L. Jackson movies, especially the bad ones. As they approached the dorm where she was going to be working the front desk for the overnight shift, he laughed.

“I can quote the entire movie Snakes on a Plane.”

Malia laughed. “If I were you, I wouldn’t count that as a positive.”

“What? I think it’s severely underrated.”

Even as she laughed, she shifted on her feet. “Well, this is me.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to go out with me?”

“Well, you seem fun. But like I said—”

He nodded. “Complications.”

Malia bit her lip and shifted her gaze down. “If things were different, you’d be top of my list. But they’re not.”

Her mouth knew the right words, but apparently, her body was confused. Instead of turning around and walking in, she leaned into him, the scent of the ocean making her long for things she couldn't have.

He stepped into her space. She had nothing to say because she knew that look on his face. It was part longing, part desire, part something else. Connection maybe? When was the last time she let herself connect to anyone? She swallowed hard. “Well, I should get inside. But thank you for your white-knight routine. Chivalry looks good on you."

In that breath of a moment, he looked like he was going to kiss her. Looked like he was going to ignore all her complications. But then he leaned away and shoved his hands in his jeans.

“See you around, Eva.”

New rule: avoid all contact with the kind of guys who brought life to body parts covered long ago by spiderwebs.