He sighs. “Paris, this is my sister, Leah,” he says, nodding toward the brunette. “And that is her friend, Andrea.”

“Hello,” Leah says, giving me a genuine smile. “We’re going to see Dylan. You coming?” she asks.

He bites his top lip. “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the car in ten minutes,” he says.

“Okay, nice to meet you, Paris,” Leah says, grabbing her friend’s arm and walking away.

He looks right at me, almost as if he’s waiting for me to ask questions. But he doesn’t owe me any answers. We just met, so why would I even care?

“I have to go, but I’ll see you around,” he says, standing up and brushing the grass off his snug jeans. “Save me a seat,” he adds, winking before following his sister. See him around? My plan for today was to keep my head down, study my ass off, and not draw any attention to myself. I sigh, putting the rest of my lunch away, and grabbing my bag.

I’m sure that by tomorrow Grayson will have forgotten all about me.

I’m one of those people who can’t get good grades without studying. I wish I was able to slack off, rock up to my exam, and ace it, but I’m not that lucky or that smart. I close my textbook after two hours of studying. I covered things we didn’t even go over today. Being the first day, it was mainly introduction work, covering the course syllabus. I decided to read up on next week’s work, so I will actually know what’s going on.

“Hey,” Anaya says as she walks in, throwing her bag down on the kitchen floor. “I’m starving.”

“I didn’t see you around today,” I say, tilting my head. Anaya opens the fridge door, and all I can see is her red hair sticking out over the top of the fridge door.

She swings the door shut with a push of her hip, a bottle of water in her hand. “I only had one class, remember? I went to work afterwards.”

Shit. I forgot about that.

“How was your day?” she asks, giving me a curious look.

“It was fine, why?” I ask.

“No reason. I’m going to stay at Paul’s tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow. What time do you have class?” she asks. Paul is Anaya’s current boyfriend. I try to hide my expression, secretly happy she won’t be home tonight. In fact, during the last week, she’s been at Paul’s more often than here, and that works for me just fine.

Perfectly, in fact.

“Just one class tomorrow, at ten,” I tell her.

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll be home around five; do you want to hang out, watch movies or something?”

I hesitate before nodding. “Sure, sounds good.”

“All right, see you then,” she says, grabbing her bag and leaving our apartment. I make a sandwich and eat that for dinner, along with a crisp green apple.

Then I get dressed for work.

The next morning, I’m running late for my class. Holding my textbook and file against my chest, I walk as fast as I can, and sit down, sighing in relief that the class didn’t start without me. The lecturer seems to be taking his own cool time going through some papers on his desk.

“I hope this seat isn’t taken?”

I turn my head. “Not at all,” I reply, staring. Looks like Grayson is in my Religion, War, and Terror Unit as well.

He smiles, sitting down in the chair and putting his book on the table. “How are you?” he asks, leaning back in his chair and turning his body toward me. He’s wearing a blue and white flannel shirt that looks amazing on him. It stretches over his broad shoulders and toned arms.

“Fine, how are you?” I find myself asking. He just seems so friendly and genuine. Maybe he wouldn’t judge me if he got to know the real me? If only. There are some things that anyone will judge you for, no matter how they may seem upon first impression. He waves hello to a few other people in the class.

“Big night last night?” Grayson asks, his attention back on me.

I freeze. “No, why?”

His eyes drop to my lips. “You have a little…” he trails off, staring.

I wipe my fingers on my lips, coming away with a faint smear of red lipstick. “Oh right, that,” I say, wiping my mouth on the back of my hand. I thought I had gotten it all off, but I guess I was wrong. I can only hope my eyes don’t have any black around them, from the eyeliner and mascara I had on last night.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, frowning. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it…”

“What if I just decided to wear red lipstick to school today? Your question would have been rude,” I point out.

He frowns. “You’re right; it would have. But I just assumed…”

“You know what they say about people that assume.”

He nods. “I’m sorry I said anything. It was rude, but I was curious about you and—”

I cut him off. “I went out to dinner last night.”

He’s silent for about ten minutes before he starts talking again. “Do you live with your parents?”

“Why? You planning on sneaking into my house?” leaves my mouth before I can stop it. I turn to look at him. He’s staring at me with a cheeky smirk on his gorgeous face.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asks with a straight face, blinking slowly a few times. I can’t help it, I start laughing, causing me to get evil looks from the students sitting around us.

“No, I’m not. And to answer your other question, no I don’t live with my parents.” Because I don’t have any.

“Where do they live?” he asks, leaning his cheek on his palm. He just has to keep pushing, doesn’t he?

“They passed away,” I say, looking away from him and straight ahead.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says quietly. He leans out and touches my shoulder, a silent show of support. I clear my throat and force a shrug.

“It happened a long time ago. I live with my roommate,” I say.

“Will she let me sneak in?” he teases, trying to lighten the mood.

“I think it’s me you need to win over, Grayson,” I say, winking at him. He laughs then, a deep sound, and I can’t keep my eyes off him as he does it.

“You’re right. Can I have your phone number?” he asks.

“No,” I reply, flashing him a smile and then turning to the front of the room. I can feel his eyes on me, but I pretend to be oblivious.

There is no point denying that something about Grayson has piqued my interest. But now is not the time for me to get involved with anyone.

“Paris!”

I turn when I hear Grayson’s voice. He’s walking toward me, holding a helmet in one hand. He’s wearing a pair of low slung jeans that I didn’t get to admire in class. I know that under that flannel shirt lies a perfectly muscled body; I can tell that from here. After class ended, I was the first to walk out without looking back. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him again until tomorrow.

“Where’s your car?” he asks, looking around.

“I walked here,” I tell him. I don’t have a car. I was just cutting through the car park.

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asks, looking hopeful. His dark eyes don’t leave mine.

I want to, I do. But I shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I live close by. Besides, I like to walk.”

He bites his bottom lip. “You know I’m just asking so I have an excuse to spend more time with you, right?”

I laugh. “I know. But stranger danger and all that,” I joke. Or at least try to joke.

His face falls a little, and I want to change my mind and say yes, but I don’t. Instead, I smile and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re busy for the rest of the day?” he asks, brows rising. He shifts the helmet. Now he’s holding it in his other hand.

“Yeah, I have a few things I need to do.” Like wash my hair.

“You’re going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you?” he asks, smiling so both of his dimples pop out.

I shift on my feet, and look in the direction of my apartment. “I’m not trying to make anything difficult for anyone.”