“How about her mom?” I ask, trying to steer the conversational boat to smoother tides. “It’s always easier to win over the mom when you’re a guy.”
“She’s some kind of shark on Wall Street and apparently had her Bluetooth surgically placed inside her ear. Every five seconds, Julie would go to say something to her, and she’d hold up a finger in her face and say ‘You’re a go for Nina.’”
“Oh my God, stop!” I shriek. Several sidewalk power walkers turn to look at me, but I ignore them. “You’re a go for Nina? You’ve got to be making that up.”
Kevin shakes his head as he holds the door to the Frankfurt Building open for me. Two women and a beret-wearing hipster sneak out before we can walk in, and I roll my eyes. Undergrads at NYU swarm this building like locusts, and not a single one of them I’ve met has any sense of propriety.
“I’m not. I wish I were, but I’m not. Julie was pretty much devastated.”
“Geez, Kev,” I comfort. “I’m sorry. My parents are characters… I mean, whose aren’t? But I sincerely hope my engagement lunch goes better than that one day.”
He snorts. “Well, statistically, you’ve got a good chance.”
I frown as I think of Julie, one of the sweetest people on the planet, and an idea pops into my head. “We should have, like, a little party!” When my jazz hands make Kevin frown, I tone it down and pop all the thought bubbles of champagne flutes and ribbon dancers and sword swallowers cavorting in my head to make room for something more practical. “With just a few people we know. Something special for her, though. Something to erase the memories her parents created.”
“That’s a great idea,” he agrees, clearly more on board now that I’m not mentally spending their entire wedding budget. “Maybe I can get something put together for next week.”
“I’ll help you,” I offer. “Just let me know what you need me to do.”
Kevin rolls his eyes as he holds open the door of our property law class, and I lead the way down to our preferred seats about halfway toward the front and all the way to the side. Kevin never wants to sit in the middle, for fear that he’ll block someone’s view. I personally wish he’d use his powers against Gretchen Folstein, our fellow student and the snobbiest chick in the universe, but he never goes for it.
“And when exactly do you think you’re going to do this? In all your free time?”
I laugh as I take off my backpack and slide into the seat. “I’m not that busy.”
“Come on, Gem. You’re busier than most people I know. You might sleep three or four hours a night, at a push.”
“Sometimes, I sleep five,” I say, sticking out my tongue.
“Well, whatever. I’m not going to be the one to cut it down to four, then.”
“If you’re so concerned about my schedule, why’d you let me cover for you at the library yesterday?” I challenge, and he laughs.
“Because I knew you needed the money. And because I had to go to the lunch. And because working there is usually slow enough that you can multitask, which I’m sure you did, and because I guess I’m a little bit of a selfish asshole, too.”
I shake my head with a smile. “You’re not a selfish asshole. I really have more free time than you make it sound like I do.”
He nods, though it’s clear he doesn’t really agree.
“Well, hopefully you weren’t too busy anyway.”
I think about the library yesterday…and the good-looking, smirk-wearing, smart guy who came in just before closing and managed to overhear the dirtiest portion of my audiobook.
Jesus Christ. That was embarrassing.
Or, well, I should still be trying to work my way through the embarrassment, but the sly and charming way he handled it all has my thoughts focused in a different direction that I most certainly need to ignore.
His personality was so huge, it was scary, providing him the ability to flirt without even trying. He was self-assured and to the point, and I’m almost certain he’s a whole hell of a lot of trouble.
Thank God I had the forethought not to do something stupid like give him my name. Or check the name that was associated with that library card number.
The last thing I need is to put a name to that sexy face and make him the kind of memory that sticks around.
I’m certain he’s the exact type of man I need to stay far fucking away from.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell Kevin about the sexy stranger in the library because surely, he’d get a good laugh at my scrambling while Sergio and Catarina were shouting their orgasms into the otherwise quiet of the reception area, but Professor Shank starts in on his lecture, and the classroom grows quiet.
I quickly grab my laptop, fire it up, and start typing notes as fast as I can. Professor Shank always speaks from the moment class starts until the moment it ends, and I don’t think she takes a breath at all in the time in between. I have to type a hundred and fifty words per minute just to keep up with her.
I glance away from her high-waisted pants and the back of her bob to look over at Kevin. He’s using the hunt and peck method on his keyboard, his tongue peeking out between his lips as he hits one letter at a time. It’s fucking painful to watch, and I roll my eyes before knocking his elbow with my arm.
“You’ll never get anything down like that, for God’s sake. I’ll just give you my notes.”
He smiles then, removing his hands from the keyboard and settling into his chair to better listen without argument.
This is the way it always goes, and a small part of me wonders if he’s pretending to be terrible at typing on purpose. That’s exactly the kind of thing a man would do; I’m certain of it.
I’d tilt my head in contemplation if I had the time.
Instead, I speed-type my way through the next ninety minutes of class and promise Kevin my notes when I get home.
He thanks me, stoops low to give me a kiss on the cheek, and then bounds up the stairs of the lecture hall four at a time to make it to his shift at the law library.
I grab my stuff at a much slower pace and head for the door, as I have much different obligations.
I’ve got a novel to read and a Starbucks booth to warm. Sounds luxurious, I know. But there’s a little more to it than I’m letting on.
When I first moved here to start law school, I did it on a wing and a prayer. I had a bit of money saved up, but not much, and my parents removed any chance of paying for more education when I took time off to travel the country.
But NYU Law was an option I couldn’t turn down, despite knowing it was going to take some sort of a miracle to keep myself from becoming homeless.
Rent in this city is ridiculously inflated—especially if you’ve ever lived anywhere else—and as a result, I live in a tenth-floor walkup.
But it’s a place I can rest my head at night, an amenity I pay for with something I, quite frankly, stumbled into.
I’ve always loved books, especially books about love. They make my days bright and my nights warm, and reading them has taught me almost as much about the world as traveling.
Every night, I’m able to immerse myself in a new city, a new time, a new world.
When I got really busy working three jobs to stay afloat, I started listening to audiobooks. They were a way to get my fix without having to stop moving.