Page 88 of See Me After Class

“Who said I’m looking for me?” She winked. “There’s this man who can’t take his eyes off you.”

I almost choked on my drink. “Who?”

“Oh, God, Rory, be subtle,” she replied, scandalized as I immediately whipped my head around.

True to her word, a Greek god looked at me from the end of the bar table. He was... fuck, he was handsome. He had to be older. Perhaps in his late thirties.

Salt and pepper hair.Check.

Ocean-blue eyes with flecks of green.Check.

Sexy evening stubble.Check.

He could have passed as a model or a college professor—I couldn’t tell which suited him better. He flashed me a wide grin, and I felt fire creeping into my cheeks.

“What do I do?” I asked Chelsea, panicking so hard I spilled a bit of the drink on my dress and the table.

“Girl, for the love of God, calm down!” She laughed. “This is no interview!”

“It’s as good as!” I retorted. “That guy’s looking at me like I’m some queen. I’d do better as a jester with this stuff spilled all over me. Quick, check whether I have popcorn between my tits!”

Chelsea was laughing so hard I thought she would end up spilling her drink too. But she checked my cleavage to make sure I wasn’t hiding pub grub anywhere.

“Honestly, it wouldn’t be bad if there were some popcorn here.” She grinned. “Makes you more of a keeper, if you’d ask me. Someone who knows how to enjoy life.”

I made dagger-eyes at her. “I was planning to stuff myself on popcorn and spend the rest of the night with Ben and Jerry’s.”

“The only two men in your life at the moment, right?” She rolled her eyes.

The only ones who count, anyway. No one could produce a better Cherry Garcia. I could fight to the death for that stuff.

I looked back once more, but the man was gone.

Heck, why did I feel so disappointed? And here I was, trying to get popcorn out of my clothes for him.

I cursed myself for thinking instant love could ever be a thing, especially for me. I didn’t even like reading that shit in books.

Nope, I was all for the old-worldtime will tellromance of Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, and Darcy and Lizzie. But even they had an instant attraction, didn’t they?

Why couldn’t it happen for me, just once?

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips and, my head still turned away, I propelled myself from the bar stool and collided against someone’s shoulder.

This shoulder definitely didn’t belong to Chelsea.

“Hey.” I scowled, whipping my head around and immediately drowning in an ocean of sea-green.

“Hey.” He smiled and raised his glass at me.

Oh, it’s Mr. Too Good to be Truefrom the other corner of the bar.

My mind felt like it was stuck in reverse.

He knitted his brows and gave me a lopsided grin that wrenched my heart.

Electricity. That’s what ran up my spine.

“I—”

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