break my heart and she wasn't a cheerleader, but she was kind... considering."
"Considering what?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did you go to your ten year reunion?"
"Do I look like a masochist to you? My twentieth is a few years off and I won't be going to that either."
"You don't think I should go?"
"Oh, you definitely should go. You'll have fun. I, on the other hand, have no need to see the beautiful people, who are of course now more beautiful, the smart people who are now millionaires, and the outsiders who are now in psychotherapy. They would all see me and tell me how much I haven't changed."
"Is it that bad?"
"Would you like to still be invisible?"
"Most times. I like to be left alone."
"Then why are you going back? To prove something, right?"
He frowned. "Sounds pathetic."
"No, it's human nature to see how we measure up. You know, you haven't asked me your question yet."
"Oh, right." He shrugged. "Forgot about that."
Cassie watched as his muscles moved underneath his shirt. She wondered if the rain had caused it to shrink, molding itself to his fabulous form. She didn't dare look down at her dress. She could feel it clinging to her like an eager child, exposing many of the aspects of her physique it was designed to hide. Drake had obviously noticed this because his hungry gaze roamed over her figure and it didn't take much insight to know what he was thinking.
"Aren't you going to ask your question?" she asked, trying to divert his attention.
"Are you seeing someone?"
She blinked. She hadn't expected that. "No."
"Why not?"
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Can't get a date."
She laughed until she realized he wasn't joking. "You're serious."
"Yep."
"I'm sure you can get a date."
He was quiet a moment, then asked, "Are you free to attend a barbecue this weekend?"
His words brought her back to reality, tearing at the seams of her fantasy. She felt her spirits fall; she knew their acquaintance could not last beyond this night. "No."
He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes hopeful. "How about dinner and a movie on Friday?"
She shook her head, determined not to weaken. "No."
"Lunch and bowling on Wednesday?"
"No, sorry."
He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head in frustration. "Like I said, I can't get a date."
"It's not that. It's not you." She sighed, wishing this didn't have to ruin her memory of the evening.
He softly swore. "You're going to give me the 'It's not you, it's me' speech.'"
"I'm doing you a favor."
He looked at her, appalled. "By stepping on my ego?"
"No." She stopped in front of her building and glanced up at the seventh-story window where her apartment was. It looked dark and lonely, but it would not encourage her to change her mind. "See, I know the game, but that's okay." She took a step toward the door, but Drake seized her arm.
"Game? What game?"
"The game that men and women play."
He tugged on her arm. "Enlighten me."
Cassie grabbed the hem of her dress and wrung out some excess water. "Many men want to go out with me after a riveting seminar, trying to build up their confidence. I'm safe and comfortable. A nonthreat, you could say." She let the hem go and stared at him. His gaze was still fashioned on her legs. She lifted his chin with her forefinger. "But you don't need a practice run. Go for the real thing."
He moved a strand of wet hair from her cheek. The gentle caress was electrifying. "I am. Trust me." He said the words slowly in a captivating tone that sought to bring her back to the intimate level she was trying to escape.
She grasped his hand. "Stop that."
"Why? I like your face."
"Drake," she said desperately, "you're a classic case. You used to be shy, awkward, and invisible in school, but now you're successful and you ooze confidence, but inside still feel awkward. So you flirt with different women to give your ego a boost, and that is all you're doing now."
He wasn't paying attention. His fingers were gliding over the glitter
"Considering what?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did you go to your ten year reunion?"
"Do I look like a masochist to you? My twentieth is a few years off and I won't be going to that either."
"You don't think I should go?"
"Oh, you definitely should go. You'll have fun. I, on the other hand, have no need to see the beautiful people, who are of course now more beautiful, the smart people who are now millionaires, and the outsiders who are now in psychotherapy. They would all see me and tell me how much I haven't changed."
"Is it that bad?"
"Would you like to still be invisible?"
"Most times. I like to be left alone."
"Then why are you going back? To prove something, right?"
He frowned. "Sounds pathetic."
"No, it's human nature to see how we measure up. You know, you haven't asked me your question yet."
"Oh, right." He shrugged. "Forgot about that."
Cassie watched as his muscles moved underneath his shirt. She wondered if the rain had caused it to shrink, molding itself to his fabulous form. She didn't dare look down at her dress. She could feel it clinging to her like an eager child, exposing many of the aspects of her physique it was designed to hide. Drake had obviously noticed this because his hungry gaze roamed over her figure and it didn't take much insight to know what he was thinking.
"Aren't you going to ask your question?" she asked, trying to divert his attention.
"Are you seeing someone?"
She blinked. She hadn't expected that. "No."
"Why not?"
"Are you seeing anyone?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Can't get a date."
She laughed until she realized he wasn't joking. "You're serious."
"Yep."
"I'm sure you can get a date."
He was quiet a moment, then asked, "Are you free to attend a barbecue this weekend?"
His words brought her back to reality, tearing at the seams of her fantasy. She felt her spirits fall; she knew their acquaintance could not last beyond this night. "No."
He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes hopeful. "How about dinner and a movie on Friday?"
She shook her head, determined not to weaken. "No."
"Lunch and bowling on Wednesday?"
"No, sorry."
He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head in frustration. "Like I said, I can't get a date."
"It's not that. It's not you." She sighed, wishing this didn't have to ruin her memory of the evening.
He softly swore. "You're going to give me the 'It's not you, it's me' speech.'"
"I'm doing you a favor."
He looked at her, appalled. "By stepping on my ego?"
"No." She stopped in front of her building and glanced up at the seventh-story window where her apartment was. It looked dark and lonely, but it would not encourage her to change her mind. "See, I know the game, but that's okay." She took a step toward the door, but Drake seized her arm.
"Game? What game?"
"The game that men and women play."
He tugged on her arm. "Enlighten me."
Cassie grabbed the hem of her dress and wrung out some excess water. "Many men want to go out with me after a riveting seminar, trying to build up their confidence. I'm safe and comfortable. A nonthreat, you could say." She let the hem go and stared at him. His gaze was still fashioned on her legs. She lifted his chin with her forefinger. "But you don't need a practice run. Go for the real thing."
He moved a strand of wet hair from her cheek. The gentle caress was electrifying. "I am. Trust me." He said the words slowly in a captivating tone that sought to bring her back to the intimate level she was trying to escape.
She grasped his hand. "Stop that."
"Why? I like your face."
"Drake," she said desperately, "you're a classic case. You used to be shy, awkward, and invisible in school, but now you're successful and you ooze confidence, but inside still feel awkward. So you flirt with different women to give your ego a boost, and that is all you're doing now."
He wasn't paying attention. His fingers were gliding over the glitter
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