A Slow Boil by Karen Winters

to fit my jeans and shirt into my already
overcrowded bag.  I was just wiping down the counter tops when Mr. Hunter
came in through the dining room door carrying his own dishes, which he
proceeded to load into the dishwasher himself.  He stood back up and swept
his arms out in a gesture that said, “See, I can do it!”  I couldn't help
but laugh, and I gave him a little golf clap that said “Amazing!” back to him.
    “Ready to go?”
    “Yep.”
    “Follow me.  The garage is through here.”
    He opened the passenger door for me and waited until I was buckled
in before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the garage.  As we
headed down the road toward town, I tried to quit stealing glances at his hand
as it rested on the gearshift.  Such long fingers should be against the
law.  Or maybe mandatory.  Yes, mandatory was much better.  It
also didn’t escape my notice that my naked knee was mere inches from said long
fingers.  Maybe I should have changed back into my jeans just to keep a
leash on this inner hussy I seemed to be incubating.
    “Do you play the piano?” I asked impulsively.
    “Not nearly as much as I used to.  Why?”
    “No reason,” I answered too quickly and turned to look out the
window.  I thought I heard him chuckle as he shifted the car into a higher
gear.
    I gave him directions to my dorm as we entered the campus and we
pulled up a couple of minutes later.  As I unbuckled and reached down for
my bags, Mr. Hunter asked me what time I’d be leaving for his place tomorrow.
    “I usually leave around twelve-thirty.”
    “Hmm.  I can’t pick you up then.  Could you come out
earlier?”
    “I suppose I could.  My last class ends at eleven-thirty, but
that doesn’t give me much time for stopping by Southbay’s .”
    “Tell you what.  I’ll pick you up here at quarter to
twelve.  Leave the shopping to me tomorrow.”
    “Okay.”
    “Good.  Let me get your door.”  He got out of the car
and came around to my side, opening my door and extending his hand to help me
out.  With my bag over my shoulder and my laptop in the other hand, I let
him help pull me up.  His hand felt firm and warm as it closed around
mine.
    “Goodnight, Mr. Hunter.  Thanks for the ride home.”
    “Goodnight, Miss Lane,” he nodded.  “I'll see you
tomorrow.” 
    I walked up the path to the dorm, taking one last look over my
shoulder as I pushed open the front door.  Mr. Hunter was waiting on the
sidewalk until he was sure I’d made it inside the building.  And they say
chivalry is dead.

Chapter
6
    “Yes!”  I did a small fist-pump as I hit the save and print
buttons on my computer.  Another paper down.  I had to get through my
oral presentation of this paper, then I had the rest of the day and night to
finish the big one.  Technically it wasn’t due until Friday but I was
hoping to pull it together tonight and finish it a day early, which would give
me a whole extra morning of apartment-searching.  The other
roommate-seeker had never called me back and there were no new listings in the
Center, so I was resigned to living in a miserable death-trap for the
summer.  I would just have to spend as much time as possible at work and
out with Britt.
    I looked at the clock – an hour until class.  Time enough for
a quick shower and a bite from the cafeteria.  I eased up out of my chair
and stretched my arms as far over my head as I could.  I couldn’t wait to
be done with this week and actually get a normal eight hours of sleep. 
What a simple, divine luxury - eight hours of sleep.
    Class went well, at least I thought it did.  My presentation
was better than most of the others and only worse than a few.  I still
couldn’t get a read on the professor’s reaction to it, but that was par for the
course.  Ah well, it’s over now, I thought, as I headed back to my
dorm.  I’d done my best and my fate was out of my hands.
    Anna was packing her suitcase when I arrived.  I realized