Chapter 16

After my morning run I cleaned up and headed for Siobhan’s studio. It seemed like a lifetime since the beginning of the quarter, but had only been three weeks. Wren had modeled for the Life Drawing class for the past two, and now it was my turn.

At least Christy wasn’t in the class. I hadn’t seen her since she’d stormed off, but I could easily picture her gimlet stare. Even in my imagination, her eyes bored holes through me and I had to look away.

Siobhan was talking to a couple of students when I arrived, so I gave her a quick wave and headed into her small office. I closed the door and slung my backpack into a chair. I started to take off my coat but then froze when I realized I wasn’t alone.

“What’re you doing here?”

Wren rolled her eyes. “Nice to see you, too.”

I recovered my manners, but still felt a little uncertain. “Yeah, nice to see you, but ... um ... what’re you doing here? It’s just me today.”

“I know, but I wanted to see you.”

“Does Trip know?” Much as I wanted to see her, I didn’t need any more bad blood.

She shook her head. “He’s in class.”

“You realize this isn’t a good idea, don’t you? Sneaking around on him, I mean.”

“I’m not ‘sneaking around.’ He knows we model together.”

“Yeah, but does he know you’re not supposed to be here today?”

“It’s none of his business.”

I snorted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

“No,” she said archly, “I don’t.”

“Hey, I’m not the one telling you how to live your life, so don’t get upset with me.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but her expression softened instead. “Yeah, you’re right. Sometimes he just drives me crazy.”

Then why are you with him? I thought, but knew the answer. Love and hate aren’t far apart, and sometimes aren’t very different to begin with. I scoffed quietly—it explained a lot about my life, especially lately.

“Do you mind if I stay?” Wren said. “I’ll leave if you want, but...”

I didn’t know how I felt about getting undressed in front of her, but I’d have to decide sooner or later. Might as well be sooner, I thought with a sigh. “Stay,” I said, and took off my coat. “What’s Trip think about this? Modeling together, I mean.”

“He doesn’t like it.” She shrugged. “He doesn’t have a choice, though.”

“That probably doesn’t sit well either. He doesn’t like it when he’s not in control.”

“Then he’d better get used to it. I’m not his property.”

I gave her a calm, curious look. “Why are you so angry lately?”

“I’m not—!” She realized what she was doing and huffed. “I’m angry at him,” she said at last. “He’s being a butt. He’s miserable, but it’s his own fault. He’s so stubborn!”

I chuckled at the irony.

“He misses you, but he’s too pigheaded to admit it. He doesn’t think I can tell, either. Can you talk to him? Try to apologize again?”

“Uh-uh. I tried that once. Remember?”

“Couldn’t you try again?”

“Why? To give him the satisfaction of rubbing my nose in it?”

“But, please! Just this once?”

“No,” I said firmly, and felt a flush of anger and humiliation at the memory of the first time.

“Why not?”

“Because! I’m not going to go crawling back.”

“But he’s so pigheaded,” she said, almost plaintively.

“Then I guess that makes two of us.” I jabbed my arms into my robe and closed it with a savage jerk.

“You’re right,” Wren said at last. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve asked.” She shrugged. “I just thought...”

I felt my anger drain away. “I know,” I said gently, “but friendship’s a two-way street, and the ball’s in Trip’s court.”

She nodded, preoccupied by our little love triangle. I understood exactly how she felt, and I didn’t envy her. She forced a smile at last, but it was sad.

As if on cue, Siobhan tapped on the door and then opened it. “Ready, Paul?”

“Be right there,” I said, and looked at Wren. “Sorry. I tried once, and you saw what happened.” I thought about trying again, but then shook my head. “I’m not gonna waste my time on a guy who doesn’t want to be friends with me. You know?”

Wren sighed. “You’re right. It’s up to him.”

Awkward silence hung between us. I felt sorry for her, but I wasn’t going to set myself up for more disappointment.

“I’d better get out there,” I said at last.

“Yeah.” She reached for her backpack, but her eyes were far away.

When I emerged from the office, Siobhan was giving pointers on how to draw the male physique. She finished her thought and then introduced me. From experience, I knew that the first two weeks were simple poses, so I unbelted my robe and settled on the stool in the center of the ring of easels.

Modeling was actually pretty boring, especially by myself, and I usually thought about architecture. But this time I couldn’t stop thinking about Trip. And the future. Part of me was furious that my life was in a shambles. Another part was sullen and dejected.

I knew myself well enough to see a funk coming, so I took a deep breath and focused on the people around me. As usual, Siobhan walked behind them, commenting and critiquing, offering hints and advice and encouragement. She was a good teacher, and I saw why Christy liked her so much.

At the thought of Christy, I felt my temper rise, so I cleared my mind and looked for a distraction. My eye settled on a pretty girl with high cheekbones and a long, straight nose. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a loose, twisted knot, which made her look older than she probably was.

I didn’t want to get caught staring, but something about her piqued my interest. Her clothes were normal enough, a cable-knit sweater and stirrup pants, so I couldn’t put my finger on why she’d caught my eye. She glanced up to get another look at me, although she didn’t notice me looking at her. Then our eyes met and she looked away quickly.

A blush crept up her cheeks, so I waited for her to recover her composure. She looked up almost hesitantly, and I smiled when our eyes met. Her answering smile was shy, and she went back to her sketch quickly.

I let my gaze move on, but watched her out of the corner of my eye. I felt a moment of panic, but suppressed it and tried to control my breathing. It was one of the first things I’d learned in judo, and I used it to center myself.

When I finally had my pulse and breathing under control, I casually met her eye and offered another smile, friendly and confident, but not too cocky. I spent the rest of class flirting with her, and could feel her eyes on me whenever she thought I wasn’t looking.

Oddly enough, I wasn’t worried about getting an erection. I definitely felt a spark of attraction, but she didn’t seem like the seductive type. From her blushes and shy glances, I thought she might be a virgin, and a part of me wondered if I really wanted that kind of responsibility.

I was still thinking about it when Siobhan drew the class to a close and thanked me. I gathered my robe and tried to look cool as I strode from the circle. But once past the students, I quickened my step and practically burst into the small office.

Wren looked up in surprise. “What’s going on?”

“Gotta go,” I said as I hopped and almost tripped when my foot caught on my boxers. “Sorry. Need to meet someone before my next class.”

Wren looked disappointed, but she closed her book and gathered her things. “Yeah, I need to get to class too. Business Finance. Ugh.” She walked toward me as I fastened my khakis.

I didn’t know what to expect, so I was surprised when she tilted her face up. We kissed on the cheek, and she gave me a resigned look when she pulled back.

“Sorry we didn’t get to talk more,” she said. “I really miss that. Maybe when we start modeling together.”

“Yeah,” I said quickly, “that sounds good.”

Wren was in her own world, so she didn’t notice my distraction. Instead, she gave a wan smile and left with a wave. I finished dressing and rushed out of the office. If I was lucky, I could catch the blonde before she got too far. I started to dash out of the studio but then skidded to a halt.

She was talking to Siobhan! I couldn’t believe my luck. I took a deep breath and tried to master my racing heart.

Siobhan was giving her hints on how to draw my shoulders. I glanced at her sketch and suppressed a wince. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t very good either. I couldn’t help but think of Christy, whose drawings were so lifelike. The new girl didn’t stand up to the comparison, and I wanted to kick myself for thinking of Christy in the first place.

“It just takes practice,” Siobhan told her. “Hello, Paul. I was just telling Daphne that your shoulders are hard to draw. It has to do with muscle definition.”

“I’ll try to be less defined next time,” I said dryly.

Daphne blushed and smiled.

Siobhan gave me a searching look. “Have you two met?”

“Not yet,” I said, and held out my hand. “I’m Paul.”

“I know.” Daphne shook my hand. Hers was warm and soft, and a little smudged from her drawing. She looked at it in embarrassment. “Sorry, I ... um...”

“It’s okay,” I said as I rubbed away the graphite. “Mine get that way too.”

“Are you an artist?”

“Architect,” I said. “Well, not yet, but I will be.”

Siobhan realized what was going on, so she patted my arm. “Thank you, Paul. I’ll see you Thursday.” Then she glanced at Daphne. “Keep practicing. You’re doing well.” She said goodbye and disappeared into her office.

I turned to Daphne and thought about blowing off computer class. “So, um ... do you have class now?”

She dashed my hopes with a nod.

“Oh, okay. Where’re you headed?”

“Just downstairs.”

“Cool. I’m headed to the computer lab. Wanna walk down together?”

“I guess.” She seemed unusually shy, but I wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip away.

I mustered my courage at the first floor landing. “I know we just met,” I said, “but maybe we could get together sometime. Do you mind if I call you? We could go to dinner or a movie.”

“I’m free tonight,” she said, and her cheeks immediately flushed.

“Ah, okay. Cool. I’m busy till six, but I can call you afterward. Can I get your number?”

“Um ... I have to be on campus till five.”

“Oh. Okay. Then do you wanna just meet somewhere?”

She suddenly thought better of it. “I probably shouldn’t.”

“I really want to see you,” I said earnestly. “I’ll be the perfect gentleman. Dinner and a movie, and then I’ll drive you home. Maybe a kiss on the cheek at the door, but that’s it.”

“I don’t know about a movie...”

“But the rest is okay?”

The sincerity in my voice made her smile, and she nodded.

“Great! Do you want to meet at the Sports Bubble? I should be done by six. I can cut practice short if—”

“No, six is okay.”

The bell rang and I fought down my annoyance. Then I held her eyes and smiled. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

She looked down and tried to hide a smile of her own.

My grin widened. “See you at six!”

She nodded and walked into her class, and I broke into a run toward mine. Professor Liang was already lecturing when I arrived, so I slid into my seat as quietly as I could.

Gracie stared at me covertly as I took out my notebook. I knew she was curious about my goofy grin, but I ignored her and pretended to focus on the lecture. I didn’t really hear what the professor was saying, though, because I couldn’t stop thinking about Daphne’s smile.

Judo practice took a lifetime, since I didn’t know if Daphne would show up or not. I didn’t even know her last name, so I couldn’t call her if she didn’t. I tried to focus on Glen, but I couldn’t stop glancing at the door. Not surprisingly, I spent a lot of time on the mat, staring up at the ceiling and blinking to clear my head.

I still hadn’t seen her by the time practice was over, so I reluctantly decided that I’d been stood up. I talked to a few of the other guys as we gathered our things, but my heart wasn’t in it. Then someone whistled in a low cat-call.

“Sweet Jesus,” he said, and the rest of us followed his gaze.

My breath caught as I saw Daphne, tall and slender in a white coat with a fur collar. She’d changed clothes and fixed her hair, but she still had her backpack. Her nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and she looked a little lost.

“I think I died and went to heaven,” someone said, and the others agreed.

“Five bucks says I can get her number,” another guy said. “Any takers?”

“Sorry, guys,” I said, “but she’s meeting me.”

Several guys looked at me with undisguised envy.

“Bullshit,” one said.

I caught her eye and waved, and she visibly relaxed. Then a tingle of anticipation made my heart race as she smiled.

“Lucky bastard,” somebody muttered.

Glen shot me a grin as I waved farewell and headed toward Daphne. “Wow,” I said when I reached her.

She hid a bashful smile.

“My friends are all jealous.”

“Why?”

I couldn’t tell if she was playing hard to get, or honestly didn’t get it. “‘Cause of you,” I said at last.

“Me?”

“Um ... yeah.” I felt a little self-conscious in my gi, so I shrugged into my winter coat and used the time to think about what I wanted to say next. Faint heart never won fair lady, I thought, and decided to be bold.

“Listen, I know you probably hear this all the time,” I said, “but you look incredible.”

“Thank you.”

Flattery, I could do. Seduction, too. I usually screwed up the relationship part, but I definitely had a good handle on the first two.

“C’mon,” I said, “let’s head back to my apartment.”

She stiffened slightly.

“I need to take a quick shower”—I shot her a reassuring look—”alone, and find something to wear that won’t make you ashamed to be seen with me.” I didn’t honestly think she’d join me in the shower, but it never hurt to plant the idea.

I finished buttoning my collar and slipped into a sweater. Then I looked at myself in the mirror.

Hair? Check.

Teeth? Check.

Smile? Devilishly handsome.

I grinned at my reflection as I fastened my watch. After a final critical look, I opened the door and stepped into the hall. Daphne was looking at several drawings I’d taped to the wall above my desk.

“Did you do these?”

I stepped close and followed her gaze. “Uh-huh. That’s the Fountain of the Four Rivers in the Piazza Navona.”

“In Italy?”

“Yep.”

“It’s beautiful.” She turned and looked at me, eyes wide. “Have you been there?”

I nodded.

She turned and studied the lines of the obelisk in the middle of the baroque sculpture. It was incredibly phallic, and her gaze raised more than my eyebrows.

“Would you like it?” I asked. The drawing ... or the phallus?

“I couldn’t,” she said aloud.

“I want you to have it.” Er, them.

Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you. I always wanted to go to Italy.”

“Maybe I’ll take you there someday.” I flashed her a cocky grin. Then I carefully took down the drawing, rolled it up, and held it closed with a rubber band. “But let’s go to dinner first. Since you mentioned it, how ‘bout Italian? I know a great place.”

“Okay.”

I helped her into her coat and handed her the rolled-up drawing. I shrugged into my own coat in the foyer and offered to carry her backpack. I settled it on one shoulder and reached past her for the doorknob. “You’re really gonna like this place,” I said. “It’s—”

Christy pulled back in surprise, with her hand still poised to knock. She gawked at Daphne for a moment, but then her expression hardened into a glare.

“What?” I blurted, part indignant, part clueless.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Did I do something to you?” I snapped.

“What haven’t you done?”

“I don’t know, you tell me! You seem to have all the answers.”

She set her jaw and her nostrils flared. “If you don’t know, then I’m not going to tell you.” She turned and stormed away.

“Great answer,” I called after her. “I’m not a mind reader, you know!”

Daphne looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

I stood there and fumed until I recovered my manners. “Sorry,” I said, my pulse still pounding, “that was totally uncool.”

“Is she your ex?”

“No way,” I said and closed the door behind us. “I don’t know what she is, but she’s acting like I left her at the altar.” I shook my head to clear it. “Sorry. Let’s just go.”

Daphne nodded, although she didn’t say anything until we reached the restaurant. I was in my own world, half brood, half simmer. What had I ever done to make Christy so angry? It wasn’t my fault we weren’t talking! Wren had forgiven me, so why couldn’t she?

I fumed until the maître d’ seated us and gave us menus. Then I realized where I was, and who I was with.

“I’m sorry,” I told Daphne for the third time. “I used to be friends with ... that girl, but we had a fight.” I shrugged. “She’s been totally weird ever since. She just broke up with her fiancé, so that’s probably why.”

Daphne nodded.

I shook my head in irritation, again, and tried to focus on the girl I was with. I actually had a chance of understanding her. She was nervous, uncertain, and a little shy, but at least she was civil.

And attracted to me, I reflected. So I took a deep breath and tried to be polite. “Do you want some wine? It’ll take the edge—”

“God, yes!” Daphne said, and looked surprised at her own words.

Our eyes met and we burst out laughing. After so much stress and awkwardness, we couldn’t help ourselves. I barely held a straight face when the waiter arrived to take our drink order. He looked down his nose at us, which made Daphne break into giggles again, and we didn’t stop snickering until he returned and poured the wine.

“Oh, God,” I sighed after he left, “I needed that.”

“Me too,” Daphne said. “I’ve been...” She shrugged and gave me a helpless look.

“Yeah, I know. Same here.”

“Gee, you hide it well,” she said, and tasted her wine.

“More balls than brains, I guess.”

Her cheeks turned rosy, but she smiled.

We fell into a tentative silence and studied our menus. When the waiter came and took our orders, I used the opportunity to refill our glasses.

“So...,” I said at last, nervous in spite of myself, “what should we talk about?”

“Will you tell me about Italy?”

“Sure.”

“When did you go?”

“After high school. For a month with my girlfriend.”

“The little princess?”

My face reddened at the thought of Christy. “No, not her. Another girl.” I didn’t feel a pang of regret at the thought of Gina, although it took me a moment to realize it. “Christy wasn’t ever my girlfriend. I told you that. Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about her. So, what do you want to know about Italy?”

I talked all through dinner and most of a second bottle of wine. Daphne listened as though I knew the answer to life, the universe, and everything (it’s 42, by the way). By the time the waiter brought the check, I had moved from Italy and architecture to my life growing up, minus the nudist part, of course. I felt a little vain talking about myself so much, but she seemed genuinely interested.

“How did you get into modeling?” she asked as we walked to the car.

“My girlfriend at the time,” I said. “She saw a flyer and thought it would be cool.”

“The girlfriend from Europe?”

“Um ... no, a different one.” I cleared my throat self-consciously. “How come we keep talking about my ex-girlfriends?”

“You brought them up,” Daphne protested, “not me.”

“Then let’s talk about you instead.” A thought struck me and I wanted to smack myself in the forehead. “Hold on, you know my life story, but I don’t even know your last name! God, how self-centered is that?”

She flashed a shy grin. “Chase.”

“Nice to meet you, Daphne Chase.” I held out my hand. “Paul Hughes.”

I held her hand a bit longer than normal, and our eyes met. She blushed and looked down, so I opened the car door and handed her in. I let my eyes wander over her long legs, and imagined them wrapped around me. With a silent snort at my self-confidence, I walked around to the driver’s side. “So, what’s your major?” I asked as I climbed behind the wheel.

“Art Education.”

“Are you going to teach?”

“I hope so. I graduate in May.”

My eyebrows shot up. “This May? That soon? So that makes you ... what? Twenty-one?”

“Sort of. I worked for a couple of years before college. Why? How old are you?”

“Uh-uh,” I chided. “Nice try, but you’ve been doing that all night. Every time I ask you something, you turn it into a question about me. So, how old are you?” I glanced at her and sized her up. “Twenty-three?”

“I thought it wasn’t polite to ask a woman’s age.”

“Who said I’m polite?”

She laughed. “You did!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You said you were the perfect gentleman.”

“I said I’d be the perfect gentleman when I take you home.”

“Oh?” she teased. “And what will you do then?”

“Give you a kiss—just one—on the cheek.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, then I’ll probably go back to my apartment and think about how pretty your smile is.”

She showed it again, shy and inviting at the same time. “Is that all?”

“No comment.”

She giggled.

“It’s our first date,” I teased, “and you’re already giving me a hard time.”

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

My cheeks flushed when I realized what I’d said.

She giggled again.

“I think I’ll shut up now,” I said.

“No, I thought it was cute.”

“Well, at least one of us did.”

“Honest,” she said, “you’re cute when you blush. You don’t do it very often.”

The wine must have loosened her up more than I’d thought. I didn’t want to take advantage of her—well, I did, but I’d promised to be a gentleman—so I changed the subject.

“Nineteen,” I said, and saw that she didn’t follow. “I’m nineteen. And a half. I’ll be twenty in June.” I shot her a look. “Have you ever dated a younger guy?”

“Are we dating?”

“You know what I mean.”

She smiled.

“So ... does it bother you that I’m younger?”

She actually thought about it for a moment. “Not really. Most college guys are kinda immature, but you’re not like that.”

“Sometimes I am.”

“Not tonight,” she said, low and suggestive.

I hid a look of surprise. Was she coming on to me? We’d been flirting since we left the restaurant, but this was something more, less girlish and more sophisticated. I cleared my throat. “Um ... you need to tell me where you live.”

She smiled and gave me directions to a yellow Victorian house in Fort Sanders, on the other side of the Strip from campus. The big old house had been converted into several apartments, complete with two front doors and exterior stairs that led to the second-floor apartments. The house still had the dignified look of the Gilded Age, even with the shabby renovations.

“This is nice,” I said. “Do you live alone?” Part of me was hoping she’d invite me in, but another part wanted to stick to my promise, if only to prove that I could.

She shook her head. As if to underscore her point, a light came on in one of the first-floor apartments. “That’s mine.”

I smiled and walked her to her door. “I had a really good time tonight,” I said, and tried not to frown at the cliché.

“Me too.” She didn’t immediately reach into her purse for her keys, so I thought I might have a chance at a second date.

“I’d like to see you again,” I said. “Can I call you?” Then she did reach into her purse, and my heart stopped beating until she came out with a pen.

“Here’s my number,” she said, and wrote it on my palm. Our eyes met when she finished.

“I promised you a kiss,” I said. We were the same height, so I paused to admire her. Then I bypassed her lips and kissed her cheek instead. Her skin felt cool against mine, and I knew she could feel my breath on her ear.

“One kiss, on the cheek,” I said softly. “Just like I promised.”

Her breath caught.

I pulled back and grinned as she opened her eyes. “If I kissed you again,” I said, “I wouldn’t stop. And I’m a man of my word, so...”

Her eyes widened with disbelief. Then they narrowed slightly and her nostrils flared with a look of pure desire.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said, and took a cautious step back. Then I took another, and another, until I reached the edge of the porch. I held her eyes and backed down the steps. “I’ll wait till you get safely inside,” I said at the bottom.

She broke the spell with a visible effort and rummaged in her purse. Then she dropped the pen and huffed in frustration. When she bent to pick it up, her keys fell onto the porch. She juggled her purse and barely kept everything else from spilling out.

When she finally stood, she looked mortified. I wanted to say something, to laugh it off, but she unlocked the door and disappeared inside.

I didn’t see a curtain pull back, but I knew she was watching me. At least, that’s what I’d be doing. So I lingered for a moment and let my guard down as I smiled at the memory of the brief kiss.

I walked back to my car and felt the weight of her watching me, so I looked back one more time. I couldn’t see her, but I smiled anyway.

Trip had been avoiding me all week by sleeping at Wren’s or coming home late. I’d been avoiding him too—I went for runs in the morning and skipped our usual mealtimes.

Despite all that, he still managed to surprise me in design class on Wednesday. He actually came up to Joska and talked to him right in front of me, without so much as a glance in my direction. I wanted to punch the stone-cold prick in the face.

Trip, not Joska.

Unfortunately, seeing Trip reminded me that I wouldn’t have a job over the summer. I was pretty sure I could renovate a house with a little help, but I didn’t know where to start.

After class I spent most of my workout thinking about it, although “obsessing” was more like it. I started making notes over dinner, but I simply didn’t have enough experience.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone when I got back to the apartment, but I’d promised to call Daphne, so I did. She made me forget all of my problems. She listened as I talked about houses, and even laughed at my stupid jokes.

“God, listen to me,” I said at last. “All I do is talk about myself.”

“You’re really interesting.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I said, “but I don’t know a thing about you.”

I could almost hear her shrug. “I’m not that interesting.”

“Sure you are. Tell me something about yourself.”

Before she could say anything, I heard someone call her name in the background. “Oh, I can’t,” she apologized. “My roommate just got home. I need to go.”

“I want to see you again,” I said before she could hang up.

“Me too.”

“Tomorrow, after Life Drawing.”

“I have class till two.”

“Okay, two it is,” I said, and hoped she’d go along.

“I need to go. Sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Wren looked up from Siobhan’s desk. She smiled and gave me a small wave, and we traded pleasantries as I began undressing. Then she tried to sound offhand, “Christy said you had a date.”

I scowled. “Did I do something to her?”

“Who? Christy?”

“Yeah. Did I piss her off or something? She’s been treating me like dirt. I knew she kinda had a thing for me, but I didn’t think it was serious.” Unless you count fourteen pictures of my dick as “serious.”

“I ... um ... I’m not sure.”

“Does she have a thing for me after all, and I just didn’t realize it?”

“I don’t think she does ... er, did ... but I don’t know for sure. We haven’t talked much lately,” she admitted. “Maybe it’s just the thing with Simon.”

“Maybe,” I said, but didn’t entirely believe it.

“I’ll try to find out what’s up, but...” She finished with a shrug.

“Yeah, whatever. Thanks anyway.”

Wren changed the subject. “So, who’s the new girl?”

“Daphne,” I said with a nod toward the class.

“Which one’s she?”

“The tall blonde. The one with the dancer’s body.”

“Her? I didn’t think she was your type.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you think my type is?”

“You know ... a petite brunette with a swimmer’s body.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“So, what’s she like?”

“To be honest, I really don’t know. We’ve only been on one date, but she seems nice.”

Wren nodded thoughtfully.

“Anyway,” I said, and hooked a thumb at the door, “I probably need to get out there.”

Class took forever. I tried not to glance at Daphne too many times, but I couldn’t help myself. She was wearing a tight sweater, and my eyes devoured her body at least a dozen times.