I don’t bite my nails.
Nora: Good.
Everly: Nibble on your lower lip.
Sophie: Lick food off your fingers.
Nora: Boobs: Leave the top of your blouse unbuttoned. Let your bra show.
Sophie: Pretend you got something on your shirt and brush it off.
Everly: Wear a necklace and play with it so it draws attention to your neck and chest.
Nora: Butt: Touch your hips. Carry a pen and drop it so you have to bend over to pick it up.
Sophie: Ask him if you got something on your pants.
Everly: Wear that polka dot skirt you always say isn’t work-appropriate. It makes your butt look amazing.
Nora: For maximum impact, try combinations. Lean over a desk or table and tap a pen against your lips.
Sophie: Take a bite of something, lick your lips in slow motion, then suck on your fingertips.
Nora: Good one, Soph.
Sophie: Thanks!
Everly: Don’t forget to look at his lips while he’s talking to you.
Nora: Absolutely. Stare at his package too.
Me: I’m not going to stare at his genital region.
Nora: I didn’t say genital region, I said package. And why not? Is his package not worth staring at?
Me: I don’t know.
Nora: Yes you do, you just don’t want to admit it.
Me: I can’t stare at his penis.
Nora: I’m all for using valid names for things, but penis is one of the world’s unsexiest words.
Me: Calling it “package” is better?
Nora: Clearly better. Also cock, manhood, bulge, etc. But we’re getting off track. Trust me on this, Hazel. There won’t be any better revenge than making him want you.
Everly: Good luck, sweetie!
Sophie: You’ve got this!
I let out a breath, still looking at my phone. I knew Nora could easily pull off the type of behavior she was suggesting. She was not only gorgeous, but enviably comfortable with her sexuality. Everly as well. They possessed a natural aptitude for this sort of flirtatious—or faux-flirtatious, as it were—behavior.
I’d never been good at this. I often felt stiff and awkward around men. Especially men I found attractive.
Not that I found Corban attractive.
I put my phone in my purse and went back to people-watching. Observing was easier.
Picking at the remains of my lunch, I watched Ivy Cole, a literature professor I’d met on my first day, greet a man with a kiss. Her husband, presumably. He had a large white dog on a leash and a little girl in his arms. Ivy hugged the child, then crouched down to pet the dog. They were a lovely family, but what captured my attention was the way Ivy’s husband gazed at her. The look of adoration on his face made my chest ache.
What would it be like to have someone look at me that way?
The back of my neck tingled, the prickly sensation pulling my attention away from little family across the courtyard. Blinking, I glanced around.
Corban.
He stood a few feet away, one leg in front of the other, as if he’d stopped walking mid-stride to look at me. His plaid shirt was partially untucked—could the man not dress himself properly?—and the way his hair stuck up in front made it look like he’d been raking his fingers through it.
For the briefest moment, I wondered what his hair would feel like if I raked my fingers through it.
I sucked in a quick breath. That sly jerk. Did he have a Nora giving him advice as to how to get under my skin? Was he trying to use his effortless sexiness to disarm me?
That was not going to happen.
“I know it was you,” I said, straightening my spine.
His eyes widened and for a split second, he looked like a little kid who’d been caught stealing a cookie. “What was me?”
“You put my lunch in the freezer.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a quick laugh. “That’s crazy. Why would I freeze your lunch?”
“Fine. Don’t fess up. But I know you did it.”
“What was in your lunch?”
“Nothing that was ruined by your attempted prank.”
“Then I guess there was no harm done.”
“Indeed there wasn’t.”
He hesitated for a beat. “I should probably be afraid to leave my lunch in the staff lounge, shouldn’t I?”
“Perhaps.” I lifted the corner of my mouth in a subtle smile, which reminded me of what Nora had said.
Mouth. Touch it. Lick your lips. Bite something.
My tongue darted out across my lips. Wait, Sophie had said to do it slowly. Had Nora meant slowly? I pulled my tongue back in. That had been fast. Maybe I needed to try again. I poked the tip of my tongue out of the