I don’t know why it strikes me as cute that she names her plants, but it does.
“You brought a dead plant to college?”
She shrugs one petite shoulder. “Almost dead. I’m trying to stop the streak.”
I quirk an eyebrow.
“The ‘I can only seem to kill plants’ streak.”
“So, his name is Teddy 3 because—”
She shrugs again, nodding to confirm my assumption. “Teddy and Teddy 2 are dead. Like, as a doornail. All shriveled and broken. Not even the main stems survived.”
“I see.” A smirk consumes my mouth. “Do you have another bottle of water in your fridge for him, then? I’d be happy to extend the scope of my services a little bit.”
She smiles, and when the skin at the corners of her blue eyes crinkles, a tingle shoots back into my dick—previously put into a medically induced coma by the unexpected flames.
“That’s okay,” she says, pursing her full, pink lips. “I’ll take care of Teddy 3 later…when I’ve calmed down a little bit. I’ll almost definitely remember.”
I smile. I don’t know how I can be so sure, but I’d go to Vegas and put down money that Teddy 3 doesn’t see any sort of hydration later tonight.
“Thank you, by the way,” she says bashfully. “For helping me. And sorry again for the collision in the hallway.”
“You’re welcome.” I run a hand through my hair. “I am curious, though…” I pause briefly, and she takes that as an indication that I’m looking for permission. The truth is, I don’t know what I’m waiting for. For some reason, I just feel an instinctual need to make sure she doesn’t think I’m trying to insult or disparage her.
“Shoot.”
“Where exactly were you headed?”
“Ohh,” she says, rolling her lips into her mouth. “You mean because the fire was in here?”
I nod, laughing as I do.
She lifts her shoulders helplessly. “I panicked.” The pillowy texture of her bright pink comforter fluffs as she plops down onto her bed. “And, apparently, when my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, I just run for the freaking hills.”
The corners of my mouth kick up into a smile I don’t plan. “Well…” I laugh. “I guess that’s how some people are wired. It’s not a bad thing. As long as you’re not majoring in law enforcement or medicine or something.”
She grins up at me. “Art major, actually.”
“Well, thank God for that.” I smirk and glance around her dorm room, taking in several painted canvases above her bed and resting along the wall beside a bookshelf. I don’t know a lot about art, but I know these are good. Fascinating creations with every color of the rainbow. Some abstract. Some looking more like actual photos than paintings themselves. And a few showing a viewpoint that reminds me of famous images I saw when I took an art class in high school and the teacher waxed poetic about Monet. “Did you paint these?”
She licks her lips, nodding just slightly before averting her eyes to her feet.
I open my mouth to ask her more about them, but she quickly changes the subject by standing up and holding out her hand toward me. “I’m Ava Lucie, by the way.”
“Luke London.” With her hand in mine, I don’t miss how soft her skin feels as we punctuate our introduction with a gentle shake.
“Are you a freshman too, Luke?”
“Yep.” I nod.
“Cool. What’s your major? Something more attuned to someone with a fight instinct?”
I smirk.
“Engineering.”
“Dayum, no wonder you use your brain in an emergent situation. It probably takes up your whole dang skull if you got into Columbia’s engineering program.”
“I do okay,” I respond, actually blushing at the compliment. I slide both of my hands into the pockets of my jeans and try to return the sentiment. “And you must be really talented to get into Columbia’s art program.”
She ignores my comment completely. “What type of engineering are you planning on doing?”
“Aeronautical. But…well, actually…engineering isn’t my end goal.”
She tilts her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“First, engineering,” I explain. “Then, flight school. Then, NASA.”
“NASA? As in strap me to a rocket and shoot me to the moon?”
I nod with a laugh. “That’s the one.”
“Wait…so, it’s possible that the next Neil Armstrong just put out a fire in my dorm room?”
A laugh bursts from my lungs. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves here. I have a long, long way to go before I get even close to that.”
“I don’t know,” she counters. “One small dorm fire for man, one giant blaze for