The leaves crunch under my sneakers as I cut across Memorial Glade, the golden light of the morning filtering through the trees. The campus is alive with its usual rhythm, and I hear the faint sound of a guitar from someone perched under a tree mixing with the hum of chitter-chatter.
It’s a soothing sound, yet it always manages to frustrate the hell out of me. Sometimes it feels like it’s only us in the STEM field who are stressed out of our minds, running around like headless chickens every second of the day. Some of the other students get to lounge around under a tree, enjoying the sweet chords of a guitar. Must be nice.
I’m distracted enough to not notice anyone until I slam straight into the hard, muscled wall of someone’s chest.
“Whoa. Slow down, there,” a familiar voice says, gripping my arm to steady me.
“Oh my God, Alex! I’m so sorry!” I blurt out, clutching my coffee tighter, but I still lose more than half of it. Thankfully, only a tiny drop lands on his gray jacket, so no harm done. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Clearly. You alright?”
I nod, my heart doing this weird little stutter that I blame on the suddenness of the encounter. Not on him. Definitely not on him.
I don’t care that he’s somehowbetterlooking than he was yesterday. His cap hid his face a bit and the gym lighting wasn’t really flattering. But now, with the natural morning sunlight gleaming against his skin, I can clearly see his sharp jawline, which is softened by a hint of stubble. I can see his strong, lean frame and his broad chest, which looks like it was made to cushion a woman’s head.
He's not very tall, maybe about five-ten, but his posture is ramrod straight, so it still feels like he’s towering above me. And this guy is pure muscle. Just taut, cut, well-defined muscle. I don’t want to admit it, but being this close to him is sort of...intimidating.
Yet despiteallthat, what catches my attention the most are his eyes. Dark, deep, stormy gray eyes. There’s something sostrange and mysterious about them, like they hold a thousand secrets. They flicker with something. Intensity? Danger?
It doesn’t matter anyway, because I don’t care about any of it. So, what if he’s kinda gorgeous? I barely even noticed that very unimpressive trait. Doesn’t faze me one bit because I am focused on my project, not tall, intriguing men with buzz cuts.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, more to distract myself than anything else.
“Just...” He pauses, as if he wasn’t expecting the question. “I’m just taking a quick walk to clear my head. What about you?”
“Heading to the library,” I say, gesturing in its direction. “We’ve got a big project due.”
“Yeah? Is it more interesting than the assignment you were proofreading yesterday?”
There still isn’t a glimmer of a smile or any type of expression, really. But I detect the slightest hint of curiosity.
“It is actually. Corey and I are trying to identify and characterize specific protein kinases that play a crucial role in the proliferation of cancer cells. And then we also want to explore potential inhibitors that could disrupt these kinases and ultimately halt the growth of cancer cells. We think it could be a breakthrough in—” I stop short when I realize I’m rambling. It’s exactly this trait of mine that my ex found incredibly boring. “Sorry. Sometimes my passion gets the better of me, and my mouth kinda...runs away.”
“Don’t worry about it. Corey does that too, but...you’re a lot nicer to listen to.”
That small, relatively lifeless statement didn’t just bowl me over, did it? I’m stronger than that. I’m not taken in by mediocre lines like that and yet...
And yet it seems like Karmani’s crackhead response to dopamine highs must have rubbed off on me because I can’t justleave that statement hanging. I need to hear more. “And why is that?”
“Well...” Again, he pauses, thinking carefully about his response. “Let’s just say that in the last few years, I’ve spent a lot of time around dudes and, uh, I guess...the soft voice...the pretty face...it’s a welcomed change.”
Oh, my God! He thinks I’m pretty. One part of me wants to push for more, but the other part steers me away from the happy juice before I become a crackhead, too. I’m going to cash in while I’m ahead. Winners know when to stop. Instead, I keep the conversation neutral, as if I’m not swooning just a tiny bit inside.
“Oh, you’re an engineering student.”
Curiosity flickers on his face once more. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s sort of obvious to deduce. Medicine and biochemistry have quite a few girls, but the faculty just can’t seem to get the numbers up in engineering. It’s all dudes. Besides, I’ve met enough of them to know that you fit right in with that crowd.”
“I’m gonna caution you not to make assumptions about me. I can assure you I’m not like the engineering crowd at all.”
A giggle pops out of me because it’s a little absurd how oblivious he is to his own personality. “Of course you are. You’re so serious. This is only the second time I’ve spoken to you, but I can tell you’re not easily humored or amused. And you also walk around like you’re just hating life.”
“That’s not true. I’m mildly amused right now.”
“Hm?” My thumb slides beneath my chain and I toy with my locket as I study him. “And yet there is absolutely no indication of that.”
“Guess you’re gonna have to trust me.” He winks at me, which is the closest thing to playfulness I’ve seen from him. “Listen, I know you’re probably very eager to get back to yourbooks and explore those potential inhibitors you were talking about, but...hang out with me for a bit.”