Page 46 of Love on the Byline

“God, no.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t want to inflict that onanyone.”

Deanna chuckled. “We have acting classes as well.”

She followed her out to the front room, moving aside when astring of kids came in through the door and blew by them. “And scriptwriting.”

“Yes.” Deanna patted her on the shoulder and pointed totheir right. “In fact, there’s our new instructor. Oliver—”

“Benjamin,” Blake said, fighting the smile that wanted totake over her face as she watched him.

“You know Ollie?”

“Yeah, we went to school together. College. It’s surreal tosee him again.” Not teaching, that seemed to suit what she remembered of him.But L.A., Bran—all of that—did not.

“You’re from Philly, too?”

“Born and raised.”

Deanna smiled, watching Ollie with his students. “I was sograteful when he agreed to come on-board. We get a lot of actors, musicians,even dancers, but he’s our first writing mentor in a long time.”

His rich, musical laugh rang out across the room. Blakewatched him smile at whatever the kid was saying to him and was transfixed,transported back in time. To the study group, junior year, where he had beenteam lead.

He’d been so smart and so generous with his time, even then.Gorgeous in a bookish, unassuming way that’d had her daydreaming, in the back ofthe library, of stolen kisses in the stacks.

Just when she’d gotten up the courage to actually flirt withhim, and thought she’d seen interest from him in return...

Brandon Peters happened.

And here they were, the three of them, all over again.

Blake deliberately loosened her shoulders. That was a longtime ago.

“He’s a good guy,” she said. That much hadn’t changedeither.

“I hope you get a chance to catch up,” Deanna looked at herwatch. “I’m sorry, my next group is starting soon.”

“No need to apologize. Thanks for giving me a bit of yourtime. I’ll be in touch.”

The other woman walked away, but Blake found herselfwatching Ollie.

The way he leaned in, attentive to whomever was speaking wasalmost hypnotic. His long, elegant fingers moved through the air, expressingwhatever point he was making.

He looked up and caught her eyes on him, his hands stillingas he sat up a little straighter.

10

He’d found it difficult to concentrate with her eyes on him.The last ten minutes of the class went by in a blur. Ollie could only hope thatwhatever lesson or advice he’d given to his students made sense and wasage-appropriate.

His thoughts, his awareness, had been all about Blake.

“I’m parked just here,” she said as they exited the building.

“I’m over there, but it might be simpler if we call arideshare and leave our cars here.”

“You have a place in mind?” She arched one dark brow.

“I do.”

He brought her to The Library, a small cafe-slash-bar in theup and coming West Athens area frequented by aspiring writers. He had stumbledacross the spot soon after they opened and had come to think of it as his localhaunt even though he lived miles away.

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