A Date for the Fair A Date for the Fair (The Dating #8) - L.P. Dover Page 0,7
marry him some day. I can’t wait to call her and tell her I had a coffee date with her future husband.
“I’m sure she’s moved on,” I tell him. “But if you must know, she gave me hell for what happened between us. She’ll be happy to know you’re here.”
Jude smiles. “The better question is what are you doing back here?”
I finish my hot chocolate and savor the last taste of it. “Well, I got bored with accounting and decided to do what I originally planned.”
“Interior design,” he says, already knowing the answer.
Nodding, I move my cup away. “And in order to get my degree, I need a humanities course. All that was left was Philosophy.”
Jude chuckles. “You and I both got stuck with that class. That’s why I was late. I got the call literally right when it started.”
“Now that we’re on good terms again, you’re not going to fail me, right?”
He lifts his brows. “Depends. Just because we have history doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you.”
“Bring it on then, Professor.” He smiles and I can’t help but stare at him. He seems happy which is something I’ve always wanted for him. “Looks like you got what you wanted. A college professor. You must like it.”
Averting his gaze, he peers out at the mountains and smiles. “I love it, Laura. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hard work trying to teach college kids. Some of them want to learn, but there are a lot who don’t give a shit. One day, those specific ones will grow up. I think we’ve all been there.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “I remember us going to plenty of parties our freshman year.”
Jude’s lips tilt slightly. “Yes, we did.”
There were times when we’d party a little too hard and he would be the one holding my hair back. Or vice versa, he’d be the one who got wasted and I’d stay with him to make sure he stayed hydrated. There isn’t a single memory of my time in Boone without him in it. Losing him was like losing a part of my soul. How could I have ever been so stupid?
Jude places a few dollars for tip on the table and nods toward the sidewalk. “Ready to go?”
I stand and grab my bookbag. “Yep, let’s go.”
As we’re walking down the sidewalk back to campus, something catches my attention. There’s a big sign, covered in pictures of sliced watermelon with the words Watermelon Festival on it. Mouth gaping, I grab my chest. “Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it.”
Jude follows my line of sight and smiles. “Happens every year. You should know that.”
“I know, but I forgot about it. We used to have so much fun at it.” We slowly walk by the big sign and my heart jumps with excitement. The festival is tomorrow. “Do they still have the funnel cakes I love?”
“Yep,” Jude says with a laugh. “I get one every year.” Then he looks over at me. “Want to go? It’ll be fun.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“I’d love to,” I say, trying not to sound overly enthusiastic.
When we get to the parking lot, he follows me over to my car. “Do you want me to pick you up or meet you there?” he asks.
Never before have I been nervous around him, but I am now. It’s the butterflies in the stomach kind of feeling. It’s strange because I’ve never had those types of feelings for Jude before.
“You can pick me up if you want. I’ll text you my address.”
We exchange numbers and he pockets his phone, his eyes searching mine. I’ve known him a long time and I can tell he wants to say something, but instead, he takes a step back. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” He smiles once more, and I watch him get into a black Jeep and drive away. Once he’s gone, I pull out my phone and call my sister.
“Hey, sis,” she answers. “How did your first day go?”
I get in my car and laugh. “Let’s just say it was a blast from the past. You’ll never guess who’s one of my professors.”
A few seconds pass and she giggles. “I have no freaking clue. Who? You got me curious.”
I let a few more seconds pass in suspense. “Jude Daniels. Can you believe it?”
She squeals so loud it hurts my ears. “Holy shit, that’s insane! What are the odds of that?”
“Exactly. It felt so good seeing him again.”
“It should,” she exclaims. “I’ve always told you what I thought