Page 47 of Tempt Me

“Five.”

“All right. I’ll makesureI’m homeno laterthan fourtoday.”

“Going somewhere?”heasked,hisscowl deepening.

“I’mmeeting a friend atmidday to study.”

Hisjawbulged fora moment. “A guy- friend ora girl- friend?”

Sheblinkedathim,confusedbythequestion.“Doesitmatter?”shereplied,placingherjuice down onto thecounter.

For a moment, he didn’t say a thing. He seemed to be thinking about something pretty damn hard before saying, “No. Itdoesn’t. Havefun. I’ll seeyou atfour.”

“—don’t you think?” Alexsaid.

Gigi shookherhead.“Sorry,what?”

“Isaidthisplacelooksasgoodasanytogetabiteto eat.”Hegesturedtothehugewindowthey werestandinginfrontof.Itwasabusydeli, theirmeatcabinetsfilledwithadozendifferentkindsof cold-cutsandcheeses.

“Ah,sure.This worksforme.”

Heopenedthedoorforher,steppingintothedelibehindher.Itwasheavingwithpeople,but Alexsawa couple vacating a table. Herushed tograb itfor them,piling thedirty plates on one end. Seeingallthecured meats hangingfromthebarsabovetherefrigeratedcabinetsremindedGigiof herfamilyget-togethers.Beinghalf-Italian,familyaffairswerethethreeLs—long,largeandloud. Herunclesallcuredtheir own meats,andbrought enoughalongwiththemtofeedeveryone comfortablyfor a week.

“Whatdoyou feel like?”Alexasked,interrupting herthoughts. Her eyesdrifted tothechalkboard abovethecounter.

“Theroastbeef soundsgood.”

Hesmiled.“Comingrightup.”Hestoodupandjoinedtheline,glancingbackatGigieverynow and again and smiling. Shehad thedistinctfeeling thathethoughtthiswassomekind ofdate. The moreshethoughtaboutit, though,shecouldn’tsee whythiscouldn’tbeadate.Helikedher—that wasclear—andshedidlikehim. Hewas sweetand niceandsafe.Hewas everythinganygirlwould wanttohavein aboyfriend. Hiscrushon herhadbeen along-runningjokebetween her and Jen. Wouldn’tJengetakick outof itif Gigi announced sheand Alexweredating?

Shecould tell thewaitwasgoingtobealong one,soinstead of wastingtimedoingnothing,she pulledoneofhertextbooksout ofher messengerbag.Sheopeneditup onthetable,flippingtothe lastchapter she’d been reading. Sheglanced up every nowand thentocheckonAlex’sprogress,and afterten minutes,hewas finally atthefrontoftheline.Hereturnedtothetable,triumphantlyholdinga plasticnumberin ametal stand.

“I didn’tknowwhat you wanted todrinksoI got youa chocolateshake,”heannounced.

“I haven’thadoneofthosesinceIwasakid,”shesaidwith a grin.“Thanks,Alex.”

Hesatbackdown,looking atherstudynotesupsidedown.“HistoryofAnthropologyisthebest, don’tyouthink?”hesaid.

Shelikedhowenthusiastichewasabouthisstudies.Thatwasonethingshefoundlackingin other guys.“Yeah. It’smyfavorite,although I alsolike linguisticanthropology.”

Theychatted aboutclassesand their assignmentswhilewaiting for their food. Shehadn’trealized how easyitwastotalkto him. Hewasa verycarefree,cheerfulperson,and shefeltbetterjustbeingaroundhim.Whentheirfoodfinallyarrived,itdidn’tdampentheconversation.Theytalked withtheirmouthsfull,tradingstoriesofencounterswithdifferentprofessorsoverthelastfour years.

Alexeventuallysatbackinhis chair,grinning ather.

“What?”sheasked,hersmilea reflectionof his.

“Weshould havedonethisyearsago.”

“Studied together?”sheasked,wiping thecornersofher mouthwith a napkin.

“Goneon a date.”

She paused. “Isthatwhatthis is?”

Alexleanedhiselbowsonthetableandlookedatherseriously.“It’stakenmefouryearsto getthecourageuptoask youtospendtimewith meoutsideoftheclassroom,Gigi.I’mdefinitely counting thisasa date.”

She could sense he was waiting for her to shoot him down, to reject him and his careful advances.“Weshoulddoitagainsoonthen.”Heranswersurprisedhim,buthe soonrecovered,his mouth turning up in a shygrin.

“Yeah, weshould.”

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