tomorrow.”
“Your paper’s
due—” she started and then cut herself off. Of course it was. This was the
oblivious boy who’d almost run her over with a bike. The happy-go-lucky air was
gone, but that didn’t mean he’d changed into a different person. Owen didn’t
strike her as a planner. The day planner he held in his hands had crumpled
pages, and the cardboard cover was missing from the front, but that was likely
due to being stuffed somewhere in the bottom of his backpack more than overuse.
She bet that if she flipped through the pages, most of them would be blank.
He looked up at
her, his gray eyes cold. She hadn’t thought about what a cold color gray could
be when she’d looked into them the other times they’d met because he’d always
been so warm and welcoming. “Don’t give me that look,” he said even though he
was the one giving reproving looks at the moment—or at least formidable
ones. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” He scratched the back of his neck. He
wore a long-sleeved white shirt under a Carolina blue T-shirt.
“So…you didn’t
know I tutor here?”
His eyes
narrowed. “Look. I didn’t plan this or anything if that’s what you’re thinking.
I’m not stalking you, and I’m not chasingyou,” he snapped. “Can you help me or not?”
It took Marci a
moment to pull together a response. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but
she certainly hadn’t expected that. Not from Opie over there. Or at least he’d
been Opie whenever she’d seen him up until today. Eventually she said, “I’ll
get you checked in.” She stumbled over her feet on her way to the
receptionist’s desk. Why was he even more attractive today? No, he was sexier . No. She had to stop.
“Who is that?”
the receptionist murmured as she handed Marci the appointment book and stared
over Marci’s shoulder at Owen.
“A guy I know,”
she said. “Owen.” Why was she feeling so proprietary all of a sudden? Of course
the receptionist was going to look. Owen was gorgeous. And it wasn’t like she
cared. She was done with him. He’d had his chance. It was one night or nothing.
He wasn’t some special exception to her rule. There were no exceptions. Past
experience had taught her to guard against exceptions.
She’d help him
get this paper into some sort of halfway decent shape—even with the
extremely short turnaround time—and then she’d never see him again.
Right? Except every time she said that, he popped up again. And every time he
did, she wanted him to go away a little less than she had the time before.
They went into
a nearby classroom that wasn’t being used so that they’d have room to spread
out. When they sat down to work on the paper, Owen pulled a few library books
out of his backpack and then pulled out a laptop with a scratched lid. His hair
hid his expression from her as he leaned forward and pressed his forearms into
the black plastic border that ran around the white table in front of them.
“What do you
have so far?” Marci asked.
“A topic.” Owen
opened the laptop, powered it up, and pulled up a blank Word document.
“Literally?
That’s all.”
“I want to
write something about carbon footprints.” Owen bit at the corner of his thumb
and shrugged. “I’m not much of a writer. Which brings me here.”
She got lost in
thoughts of where those hands had been Saturday night. When Owen looked up at
her, focusing his gray eyes on her, she brought herself back to the classroom
and Owen’s dilemma.
She cleared her
throat. “So it’s a science class.”
He nodded.
“Environmental science. Something about saving the Earth.” He shrugged again. “I
don’t attend half the classes. It fulfills one of my gen ed requirements, and it works for my major, too.”
“Science
major?”
He nodded.
“Physics. Math, I get. Writing? Not really my favorite.”
He was way too
young for her anyway. Could he even drink legally yet? Maybe he’d used a fake
ID to get
“Your paper’s
due—” she started and then cut herself off. Of course it was. This was the
oblivious boy who’d almost run her over with a bike. The happy-go-lucky air was
gone, but that didn’t mean he’d changed into a different person. Owen didn’t
strike her as a planner. The day planner he held in his hands had crumpled
pages, and the cardboard cover was missing from the front, but that was likely
due to being stuffed somewhere in the bottom of his backpack more than overuse.
She bet that if she flipped through the pages, most of them would be blank.
He looked up at
her, his gray eyes cold. She hadn’t thought about what a cold color gray could
be when she’d looked into them the other times they’d met because he’d always
been so warm and welcoming. “Don’t give me that look,” he said even though he
was the one giving reproving looks at the moment—or at least formidable
ones. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” He scratched the back of his neck. He
wore a long-sleeved white shirt under a Carolina blue T-shirt.
“So…you didn’t
know I tutor here?”
His eyes
narrowed. “Look. I didn’t plan this or anything if that’s what you’re thinking.
I’m not stalking you, and I’m not chasingyou,” he snapped. “Can you help me or not?”
It took Marci a
moment to pull together a response. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but
she certainly hadn’t expected that. Not from Opie over there. Or at least he’d
been Opie whenever she’d seen him up until today. Eventually she said, “I’ll
get you checked in.” She stumbled over her feet on her way to the
receptionist’s desk. Why was he even more attractive today? No, he was sexier . No. She had to stop.
“Who is that?”
the receptionist murmured as she handed Marci the appointment book and stared
over Marci’s shoulder at Owen.
“A guy I know,”
she said. “Owen.” Why was she feeling so proprietary all of a sudden? Of course
the receptionist was going to look. Owen was gorgeous. And it wasn’t like she
cared. She was done with him. He’d had his chance. It was one night or nothing.
He wasn’t some special exception to her rule. There were no exceptions. Past
experience had taught her to guard against exceptions.
She’d help him
get this paper into some sort of halfway decent shape—even with the
extremely short turnaround time—and then she’d never see him again.
Right? Except every time she said that, he popped up again. And every time he
did, she wanted him to go away a little less than she had the time before.
They went into
a nearby classroom that wasn’t being used so that they’d have room to spread
out. When they sat down to work on the paper, Owen pulled a few library books
out of his backpack and then pulled out a laptop with a scratched lid. His hair
hid his expression from her as he leaned forward and pressed his forearms into
the black plastic border that ran around the white table in front of them.
“What do you
have so far?” Marci asked.
“A topic.” Owen
opened the laptop, powered it up, and pulled up a blank Word document.
“Literally?
That’s all.”
“I want to
write something about carbon footprints.” Owen bit at the corner of his thumb
and shrugged. “I’m not much of a writer. Which brings me here.”
She got lost in
thoughts of where those hands had been Saturday night. When Owen looked up at
her, focusing his gray eyes on her, she brought herself back to the classroom
and Owen’s dilemma.
She cleared her
throat. “So it’s a science class.”
He nodded.
“Environmental science. Something about saving the Earth.” He shrugged again. “I
don’t attend half the classes. It fulfills one of my gen ed requirements, and it works for my major, too.”
“Science
major?”
He nodded.
“Physics. Math, I get. Writing? Not really my favorite.”
He was way too
young for her anyway. Could he even drink legally yet? Maybe he’d used a fake
ID to get
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