Oh my God. He’s asking me out. Not for coffee, not to study, but an actual date.
I should be doing internal cartwheels or something, and yet I can’t shake the apprehension churning in my stomach, the muffled little alarm bells that are telling me to say…no. But that’s crazy. I’ve been obsessing over this guy since school started. I want to go out with him.
I exhale a slow breath. “Sure, that sounds great. When?”
“Well, I’m kinda swamped this week. I have two papers to write, and then I’ll be in Buffalo with the team this weekend. How about a week from now? Next Sunday, maybe?”
My phone busts out its rendition of “Sexy Back.”
A frown touches Justin’s lips, but it fades when I hastily press ignore again.
“Next Sunday is great,” I say firmly.
“Awesome.”
We reach the counter, and I order a large mocha latte, but before I can reach for my wallet, Justin comes up beside me, places his own order, and proceeds to pay for both of us. “My treat.”
His husky voice sends a shiver racing through me.
“Thank you.”
As we move to the other end of the counter to wait for our drinks, he does that cute head-tilting thing again. “Are you sticking around here, or do you want me to walk you back to your dorm? Wait—you’re in the dorms, right? Or do you live off-campus?”
“I’m in Bristol House.”
“Hey, we’re next door neighbors. I’m in Hartford.”
The barista slides our orders on the counter. Justin reaches for his cup, then grins at me. “Shall we walk back together, milady?”
Okay. Well, that was…cheesy. And he didn’t thank the girl at the counter when she handed him his coffee. I don’t know why that bothers me, but it does.
Still, I force a smile, even as I give the rueful shake of my head. “I would, but I’m here with friends.”
His eyes twinkle. “You’re just a social butterfly, aren’t you?”
I laugh awkwardly. “Not really. I haven’t seen my friends in a while. I’ve been too busy to go out.”
“Not too busy to see Graham,” he points out. There’s a teasing note in his voice, but I also hear something sharper. Jealousy? Or maybe it’s resentment. But then he smiles again and playfully takes my phone from my hand. “I’m putting my number in here. Text me yours when you get a chance, and we’ll figure out the details for next week.”
My heart speeds up, but this time it’s from nervous excitement. I can’t believe we’re actually going on a date.
Justin finishes entering his number into my contact list just as the phone rings in his hand.
Surprise! It’s Garrett again.
“Maybe you should just answer it,” Justin mutters.
He might be right. Three calls in two minutes? That could definitely mean an emergency.
Or it could mean that Garrett is just trying to annoy me as usual.
“I’ll see you Sunday.” Justin hands the phone back, smiles again （but it looks mega awkward this time）， and then walks off.
I move away from the counter and answer the call before it jumps over to voice mail. “Hey, what’s up?” I say irritably.
“Finally!” Garrett’s aggravated voice slides into my ear. “Why do you even own a phone if you don’t bother picking it up when someone calls? You better have a good reason for ignoring me, Wellsy.”
“Maybe I was in the shower,” I grumble. “Or peeing. Or doing yoga. Or streaking naked through the quad.”