Page 18 of Getting Lucky Number Seven

I was starting to pick it up, too, often using the P-bomb when we were arguing about movies. If I ever slipped and swore that way in front of the guys, I’d never hear the end of it.

One thing was clear, though, I wouldn’t have enjoyed that class nearly as much without her. Guess I should see how much she knew about economics. If she could tell a bunch of micro and macro jokes and help me understand what the hell they even meant, maybe I wouldn’t want to stab my eyes out every time I studied it.

Of course, if Lyla was going to keep wearing skimpy outfits, I might need to stab my eyes out to keep from thinking inappropriate thoughts about my sweet, brainiac friend.

Chapter Eleven

Lyla

There he is.

He’d been in the same spot nearly every time I’d come into the library over the past several weeks, always deep in study. And since I didn’t so much as know his name, he still totally counted as someone I didn’t know. Beautiful Stranger had dark curly hair that got more out of control every time he combed his fingers through it—judging from its current state, he’d been studying a while. Then there were the Buddy Holly glasses that added to the cute nerd vibe. I decided it also made us a perfect match.

My heart rate hitched up several notches as I neared him.He looks busy studying. I probably shouldn’t interrupt.

But not saying anything was the wimpy way out, and I wasn’t taking that way anymore. I smoothed a hand down my tight teal top with black lace down the middle. It slimmed, yet emphasized the fact that I had curves. Unlike last night, I was only showing a hint of cleavage instead of a generous portion. I fought the urge to tug at my jeans. After wearing loose skirts for so long, they felt crazy tight, and the material was so thick. I’ll admit they made a better shield than my skirts when it came to cold air cutting through the fabric and leaving my legs covered in goose bumps, though.

All right, I can do this. Ask questions. Deflect the conversation back to him. Sound ditzy.The feminist side of me wanted to argue with Beck that sounding ditzy wasn’t necessary, but that was also probably the side of me that never got asked out. I wasn’t going to hide the fact that I was smart, maybe just keep it on the DL until we’d had a conversation or two.

“Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit next to you? This spot has the best view of…” I glanced out the window. “The…gravel roof.”

Crap. I was already failing. My feet readied to bolt and my palms grew uncontrollably itchy. Then he glanced up at me and smiled. Oh my goodness, his smile was everything I’d dreamed it’d be and more. “Gravel roof?”

Be bold, be bold, be bold.“Okay, that was a lie. I’ve spent so much time studying that I’m starting to feel like I’ve been in solitary confinement. Don’t worry, though, I’ll be quiet. I just feel like breathing the same air.”

What the puck? Breathing the same air? Might as well have just said I’m going to dig through your trash later.

His forehead scrunched up, but there was a hint of amusement flickering through his eyes, so instead of fleeing, I forced myself not only into a chair, but the one right next to him. “I’m Lyla.”

“Sebastian.”

I’d never met anyone named Sebastian.The Little Mermaidcomment that popped into my head almost slipped out. Clenching my jaw held it in, where it belonged. See, totally getting the hang of this. “So, what are you studying?”

“Calculus.”

“I’m a chemistry major, but today I have to devote myself to Emerson and Thoreau.” I held up my book as if he’d need proof. After my awkward start, he probably did.

“Well, I’m happy to share my gravel-roof view.” He flashed that dazzling smile one more time. “I better get back to studying, though.”

“Yeah, me, too.” I read through my assignment, only slightly—okay, very—distracted by Sebastian’s presence. No wonder I’d avoided group study sessions before. Sure, I had the occasional group project, but never with anyone I’d daydreamed about. He’d become this perfect guy who I’d someday meet and discover that we were, in fact, perfect for each other. Only I never actually thought we’d meet. After resisting the urge to pull up my hair for thirty minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore. I finally piled it into a bun on the top of my head, secured it with one of my many pens, and then got busy jotting down notes on everything I’d read.

When I went to cross my legs, I accidentally kicked Sebastian’s shin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, sliding his notebook closer to him and erasing whatever he’d written down. I opened my mouth to make a remark about how Einstein was constantly trying to climb my leg while I studied, so I knew what it was like to not be able to stick out my legs, but then I remembered talk of my cat should be delayed if possible.

Poor Einstein. I feel bad acting like he doesn’t exist.

I glanced at my watch after another forty-five minutes of silence. If I wanted to get to the hockey game on time, I probably needed to pack it up. That meant this was my last chance to leave an impression. Maybe give him my number.

My tongue felt like it’d been stuck to the roof of my mouth with peanut butter, so I pulled out my bottle of H2O and took a drink. “So, Sebastian, I was thinking…” I leaned in to do the hand-on-the-arm thing, and he turned, and I tried to avoid the collision, but it was too late.

“Ouch!” Sebastian jerked back, rubbing at the long blue pen mark by the side of his eye. I slid the pen out of my hair as if that’d undo the damage.

“I’m so, so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said, still rubbing the spot. Now what was I supposed to do? Ask him if he wanted to keep that eye? In this instance, more questions probably wasn’t the way to go.

“I gotta…” Sebastian started to gather his books.

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