CHAPTER FIVE
THE PAST
“You’ve been hunched over that textbook for hours,” came a deep voice behind me.
Startled, I looked up from my biology textbook.
A gorgeous man stood before my table, looking down at me with a smile that instantly made my heart pound faster. He was tall, wearing black slacks and a white button-up shirt. He was impossibly broad and built. My eyes trekked across his vast chest and then traveled back up to his eyes.
My face warmed.
“I have,” I finally said, smiling even though my eyes ached and my voice sounded scratchy from lack of use.
Amused, he asked, “What’s gotten you so worked up that you’re not home in bed watching Friends reruns?”
I laughed and, with my finger still marking the page, closed the book enough for him to see the cover.
“Biology 12,” he read thoughtfully. “No wonder you look tortured.”
I instantly felt embarrassed. “I need it to complete my Adult Basic Education. Exams are in a week, and I…I’ve been busy.”
The university ran its upgrading courses through the continuing-studies department, which was the only reason I was allowed to disappear into this library with the degree students.
“Last-minute crunch.”
“Yeah.”
I needed to pass with flying colors if I wanted any chance of getting into nursing school.
His warm brown eyes flicked to mine. I squirmed under his penetrating stare.
He was ridiculously beautiful.
And older.
Much older than me.
“That would still be a tough one for me,” he said.
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Science was never my forte.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one.”
His eyes crinkled with amusement. “You should have taken philosophy.”
“Why?”
He smiled slowly, and my heart pounded in response. “Then you’d have been in my class, and I’d have been much easier on you.”
Oh, my God.
He was a professor here.
Of course he was.
I smiled, unsure how to respond in the heat of the moment. It had been so long since I had socialized with anyone who wasn’t another student, a coworker, or a customer.
And June didn’t count.
With all her work at the daycare, she communicated more through grunts lately than actual words.
“I’m crunching, too,” he said just then. “I have a lot to grade. I’m actually about to hit the coffee shop. I can pick you up a cup.”
“I didn’t bring any change,” I replied softly. “But thanks for offering—”
“It’ll be on me.”
I gave him an incredulous look. “You wouldn’t mind?”
He cocked his head to the side, looking surprised by the question. “No, of course not. How do you like your coffee?”
“Um, black.”
His smile widened, a spark of private amusement flickering in his eyes. “Black it is.”
“Thank you. I can pay you back.”
His face gentled. “It’s just coffee.”
Shy, I nodded. “I know…”
How could I explain that I wasn’t used to kind gestures, much less from a man like him?
I had felt mostly invisible in my life, especially here at school, where most first-year students were younger than me and had completely different priorities.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Daisy.”
His eyes brightened. “Nice to meet you, Daisy.”
Before I could ask his name, he said, “Don’t go anywhere, all right?”
I smiled brightly. “I won’t.”
“I’ll find you hunched over that textbook?”
I laughed. “Yes, definitely.”
His stare deepened, pinning me in place, and I had to resist the instinct to squirm. A tight flutter pulled at my heart.
He was ridiculously handsome.
“Perfect.”
Oh, my God. Oh, my God!
The second he was gone, I raced to a library computer and looked up the philosophy faculty at Dover Island University.
I found him within minutes.
His picture loaded with all the dramatic slowness of campus internet, but there he was.
Professor Oliver Black.
And he was getting me coffee.
When I got home, June was curled into one end of the couch with Rowe asleep beside her, his little body sprawled across the cushions. I slipped in next to her and carefully pulled him across my lap. He stirred only enough to tuck his face against my stomach.
“He drew you a picture,” June whispered. “Said this is for Mama Sweet!”
A smile pulled at my mouth as I smoothed the hair from his forehead. “Thank you for watching him.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” She tucked her feet beneath herself. “I’m happy to. I love coming home to you and Rowe. I love this. Being able to watch him for you.”
I glanced around the apartment. It was small and cramped, with Rowe’s toys beneath the coffee table and laundry drying over the backs of chairs. I didn’t understand how June could look around at so little and call herself happy.
“I wouldn’t be able to get all this work done, June. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
I yawned. “I’m exhausted. I probably look like roadkill.”
“No, Daisy. Roadkill is looking after twenty three-year-olds and still coming home with glitter in places glitter should never be.” She gave me a thoughtful once-over. “You’re still the most beautiful girl I know.”
I pulled an ugly face at her, and she laughed into her hand so she wouldn’t wake Rowe.
Then her expression softened. “I’m serious. Don’t push yourself too hard, Daisy. You’ll spiral.”
“I’m not trying to.” I looked down at Rowe, tracing the round curve of his cheek. “I just want him to have that race-car bed.”
“He loves sleeping with you.”
“He’s getting too big.”
“He’s really not.”
June rested her head against my shoulder, and we caught up on the ridiculous romance show we had missed, whispering terrible predictions about who would sleep with whom next.
I almost told her about Professor Black.
But that would have been getting ahead of myself. It had only been coffee. A few ordinary questions about my classes, Rowe, and the life I was trying to build.
Still, long after the show ended, I kept thinking about the way he had looked at me.
Like there was something about me that drew his attention.
The memory made me lightheaded all over again.