On His Face - Tabatha Kiss Page 0,6

good Samaritan. And you didn’t even get any. It’s just embarrassing.”

Lightning brightens up the sky outside for half a second before thunder rolls over it. I watch as the unstoppable rain torrents down and my mind wanders back to those gorgeous golden eyes.

“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Could be worse.”

Chapter 4

Heidi

The rain has stopped, but clouds linger overhead as I make my way across campus toward the student parking lot where I left my car overnight. It’s early — too early — but I couldn’t get to sleep last night.

Gee, I wonder why.

It couldn’t possibly be because I spent the entire time staring at my ceiling, replaying the incident on a loop for hours on end. His handsome green eyes. His sharp cheekbones and square jawline. The way he smiled after literally everything I said and looked at me like I was the only girl in the room. I mean, I was, but also — wow — green eyes.

I don’t even know his name.

It’s for the best, I tell myself. Not knowing his name means he doesn’t know mine. All I can do is cross my fingers and hope he never models for my sketching class again. I can continue to live my life while he lives his and we never ever have to see each other again. And there he is.

I halt on the sidewalk so quickly I nearly spill my to-go coffee.

He’s in the parking lot with his phone in hand, casually leaning against the driver’s side of his car parked directly in front of mine.

He hasn’t spotted me yet.

Go.

Run.

Don’t look back.

He glances up and sees me.

Shit.

And he smiles.

My heart plunges into my gut. Can’t run away now.

I continue forward. He pushes off the door and puts his phone away, ready to give me his undivided attention. Or laugh at me. Probably laugh at me.

“Hey, there,” he says as I get close.

I pause a few feet away, still very confused. “Hey,” I say as I look at the cars.

“I saw your car parked here,” he says. “I figured I’d swing in and see if you still needed that jump.”

“Have you been waiting long?” I ask.

“Oh, no. A few minutes maybe.”

“Well...” I search my brain for an excuse, any excuse, to release me from this hell. “My roommate is on her way, so...”

He shrugs. “Well, I’m already parked here, so how about you pop the hood? It’ll only take a few minutes.”

I swallow hard. “Okay...”

I retreat to my car, digging into the front pouch of my backpack for my keys. My door creaks loudly. I feel more than a little self-conscious about that. In broad daylight, it’s easy to see how much of a clunker mine is compared to his super sleek sports car.

I sit in the driver’s seat and pause. A lever. There should be a lever somewhere that opens the hood...

I duck down out of sight, pretending I know exactly what I’m doing while I frantically search for it.

There!

I pull it. The hood pops in front and he opens it the rest of the way, maneuvering the skinny metal rod to keep it propped up. I take advantage of the large barrier between us and breathe an epic sigh of relief that I found it on the first try before climbing back outside.

“Okay,” he says as he grabs the jumper cables off his hood. “We take the red clip and attach it to the plus sign on your battery here.”

I peek inside as he clips it onto something in my car. “Uh-huh.”

He turns toward his car, the hood also open wide. “We put the other end on my battery here. And then,” he grabs the other black cable, “we do this with this...”

I nod, watching him as he fiddles with the black cable. “Pluses and minuses,” I say. “Got it.”

He gestures toward his car. “Pop in and start my car, would you? Big red button on the dash next to the stick. You can’t miss it.”

“Okay...”

I take a step back.

“Wait—” He gently loops my arm and chuckles. “Don’t trip.”

I stop. I nearly plowed right through the red cable extended between our cars.

“Oh...” My cheeks blaze red. He releases my arm. “Sorry. I, uh...”

I fidget left and right, trying to find the best way to limbo beneath the cable, but there’s zero way to do that gracefully.

Screw it.

I drop to my knees and crawl beneath the red cable all the way to the driver’s side of his car, constantly scolding myself as dirt and gravel dig into my