Page 15 of Where We Met

I can’t believe I’m so naïve to think he has any interest in forming a real friendship. Not to mention it’d be foolish for both of us to think we can admit we’re attracted to each other and not let anything happen.

I want to go home right now, but I have to make a stop at the library to grab a book for my other international business class. The walk from this building is only about five minutes, but that feels like an hour in this temperature.

I put on my cream hat and gloves, then begin to make my way.

I wonder what Luke thinks about me. Does he think I’m some pathetic, lovesick student who wants attention and waits after class for him?

More importantly, maybe I should ask myself if I am a pathetic, lovesick student.

I’d be lying if I said my crush is gone, but I really feel a magnetic pull to him. It’s almost like my brain has no real say in the matter as my body takes over.

He looked so handsome tonight in his blue slacks and crisp white dress shirt. Like the universe wanted to torture me, he rolled his shirtsleeves up to just below his elbows halfway through the lecture.

When I walk into the library, I’m momentarily surprised by how vacant it is, but then I remember it’s the coldest month of the year. Nobody wants to be outside of their home for longer than necessary.

I take the main steps up the stairs and turn right. I’ve been to this area of the library enough times before to know exactly where the section I need is. I have to write a report on the impact of global corporations on the economy, and I just need to pick up a few books to cite in my essay.

The further down the hall I get, the less people there are, until eventually, I feel like I’m the only one here. It’s kind of a creepy feeling. It makes me feel like I’m in a Scream movie, and the killer is going to jump out with a knife.

Okay, I just need to focus on the task at hand and not think about getting stabbed to death by a fictional movie character.

I pull out a couple of books on my topic and start to skim the contents, trying to decide if they’re worthy of being cited or not.

It's been about ten minutes and I've already found a few good books that I think I could use. I turn around and scream when I see a male figure leaning against the books.

"Shh. Calm down. It's just me," Luke says with a concerned look. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"I thought you were the Ghostface Killer," I say without thinking.

His mouth turns up. "Who the hell is the Ghostface Killer?"

"You know… the killer from the Scream movies," I say with my hand still held over my racing heart.

"Why, or maybe how is a better question, would I be the killer from a film?"

"Because I was just thinking about how being back here alone made me feel creeped out. That made me think of the Ghostface Killer, and next thing I know, I turn around and you’re standing there."

"Ahh, makes total sense now." He folds his arms across his chest, now leaning against the stacks with his shoulder. He looks every bit the sexy professor type you would picture from the movies.

"What are you doing here?" I try to deflect from my embarrassing admission.

"Just came here to find something for my lecture on Wednesday." His eyes skim from my boots to my face with a look of amusement and I shiver under his attention. "Was there something you needed after class Savannah?"

"Uh, no. I was just a little slow getting my stuff together. I couldn’t find my gloves."

I can tell he sees right through my lie. He bites his lip, but a smile still breaks through. His head leans to the side as if he's trying to read my thoughts.

"Are you sure? It seemed like you were ready. Your things were packed," he says as his eyebrows raise.

I fold my arms across my chest in defense. "What exactly are you implying?"

"I'm saying maybe you were waiting to talk to me. Maybe you noticed how hard I was trying to not look at your beautiful face during class, and you wanted to yell at me for failing so miserably."

It feels like my heart actually skips a beat. I try to act not affected by his words, but it's impossible.

"I don't think friends say things like that to each other," I say breathily.

He pushes off the books and takes a step closer to me. One smell of his woodsy cologne and I feel like my brain has lost all ability to make rational decisions. I instinctually take a step toward him until we are only a foot apart.

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