he gave me a wicked little grin then turned and walked away.
When the song finally ended, Lucas released me from his embrace and gazed into my eyes. “Thank you so much for the dance.”
I smiled up at him. “Thank you for asking me.”
“We’d better collect Olivia and get you both back to the dorms. It’s getting late.”
“You’re such a good big brother,” I teased. Now Lucas was the one smiling.
***
At the advice of my academic advisor, my schedule for the fall term consisted mostly of general education classes: English Composition, Statistics for Non-Math Majors, Astronomy for Non-Science Majors, Economics for Non-Business Majors (notice a pattern?) and the first class in my major, Introduction to Art History.
I had always been an excellent student. I knew I’d do well in all of my classes but I was really looking forward to my Art History class. I purchased eTextBooks online for all of my general education classes but I decided to make a special trip to the bookstore to get my art history text wanting an actual paper book for that class because I knew I would keep it for years.
The bookstore had the deconstructivist feel of Frank Gehry architecture. The store wasn’t crowded, probably because, like me, most of the students had purchased eBooks online. I was one of only a few students in the stacks of paper text books. I perused the selection of books as I made my way over to the art history section and was immediately enthralled by the selection of art texts. Some of the books I
recognized instantly because I already had them in my collection. That made me smile and reconfirmed my decision to major in art history. It wasn’t a choice my dad was thrilled about. As an engineer, he would have preferred for me to major in something more applied and practical but he supported my decision nonetheless.
I ran my hand along the collection of books until I landed on the Introduction to Art History. There were only a few copies on the shelf. As I went to grab one of the copies, another hand reached for it at the exact same moment. I had been so caught up examining the books, I hadn’t even noticed another person had walked up right beside me.
I turned to see Aaron staring down at me. He seemed to have gotten hotter looking, if that was even possible. He had on a tight white polo shirt that accentuated his muscular chest and his jeans fit snugly in all the right places. What drew me in, though, where those incredible eyes, dark brown and dreamy. And the guy had magnetism. The only problem was that he knew it and knew how to use it.
“So we meet again.” He flashed me an incredibly sexy grin. My heart skipped a few beats. Ugh. How could I be falling right into his trap? There was no way I was going to be one of the many girls on his score card.
We were still both holding the same text book and staring into each other’s eyes. Neither one of us retreated on either front.
“Why are you taking Art History?” I blurted. Seniors rarely took Intro courses.
He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”
“You like art?”
“Not particularly.”
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. It made his enrollment in the class even more of a mystery.
“I don’t really get art,” he continued.
“Art is one of the few things I do get.”
He shrugged. “My advisor told me that I wasn’t going to graduate unless I took two arts classes. I had a choice between art and theater. This seemed like the lesser of the two evils.”
He finally let go of the book and I took it into my arms and held it like a treasured child against my chest. He grabbed another copy from the shelf and flipped it around. It physically pained me to see him treating the book with so little care.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“That book’s expensive,” I said as he continued to flip it around like a soccer ball.
He looked down at my book and the way I was holding it. He placed his book against his chest and mimicked the way I was holding mine. “Is that better,” he mused.
I turned to walk away from him and he grabbed my elbow, “Hey, wait, Sunshine…”
I flew back around, enraged. “I never gave you permission to touch me,” I spewed.
He dropped my arm as if touching me now burned his hand. He looked shocked. “I’m