Page 11 of Ink & Stardust

“Starting tight end.”

“Nice.” I’m not sure what else to say, having never been a fan of football personally.

“It’s a big commitment and tends to stretch me pretty thin during the season, but it’s worth it.”

“You’ve been playing a long time?”

“My whole life.” He takes a drink of his coffee. “What about you? What’s your thing?”

“I don’t know if I actually have a thing,” I admit. “I love books and documentaries. Basically anything I can learn something from.”

“Ah, so you’re a nerd.” He smiles playfully at me.

“I don’t know if I’d say nerd. But I do like being the smartest person in the room. Product of having parents who are teachers.”

“No way. What grades do they teach?”

“My mom teaches first grade, and my dad teaches seventh-grade history.”

“So, what grade do you want to teach?”

“How do you know I’m an education major?” I arch a brow.

“Because I’m more observant than I look.” He chuckles.

“I want to teach first grade, like my mom.”

“So you like the little kids.”

“I do. I was able to help out in my mom’s classroom sometimes, and I absolutely loved it.”

“Do they live close by?”

“No. I’m actually from North Carolina.”

“I love the Carolinas. Why UVA?”

“It’s not in North Carolina.” I snort out a soft laugh. “It also has one of the best education programs.”

“It does. Which is why I chose to come here. Well, that and they have an awesome football program.”

We fall into easy conversation and before I know it, forty minutes have passed. I’m so absorbed by this insanely charming man in front of me that it isn’t until my phone dings with an incoming text that I actually look at the time.

“Crap. I have to go,” I tell him abruptly, mentally calculating if I have time to get back to my dorm to get my stuff and still make it to class on time.

“Oh shit. Yeah, you do,” he says, checking the time on his own phone.

“This has been... nice.” I quickly stand.

“Do you think maybe I could get your number?” he asks, pushing up out of his own chair.

“Yeah.” I wait until he has his phone unlocked before rambling off the number.

“It was really nice meeting you, Lyric.” He smiles, giving me one last look at that adorable dimple of his.

“You too, Owen.” I bite down on my bottom lip to suppress a smile as I turn and exit the coffee shop.

It takes me fifteen minutes to make it back to my dorm and another ten to make it to my English class, by which time I am extremely late. And I’mneverlate. In fact, I pride myself on always being early, so to say that this is trying my anxiety is an understatement.

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