CHRISTIAN

She sat across from me, this beautiful girl who had to be both the cutest and sexiest thing I'd ever seen. A rich tenor rang in her words, this modest kind of confidence that sucked me in, while her cheeks seemed to continually light with a gentle flush when she said anything that embarrassed her in the slightest way.

A sublime contradiction, self—assured and shy.

How ironic it was her.

But really, I shouldn't have been all that surprised. I always knew what I wanted the moment it saw it.

Shifting against the hard wood of the chair, I leaned forward and struggled to pay attention to the words she spoke as I stared, mesmerized by that perfect mouth.

One elbow was propped on the table, her head tilted to the side as she supported it with her fingertips. Sun—streaked waves of dark blonde hair fell down around one side of her heart—shaped face as she thumbed through the thick textbook resting on the table between us.

Concentration edged her brow, her pouty lips pulling into a thin line whenever she became engrossed in something she read.

"Do you think you're up for this?" she asked, sounding overwhelmed.

"Definitely."

No question.

I was up for all kinds of things.

Last night, I'd shared two short emails with her, and we'd arranged to meet at this little café during the time we both had a break in our classes.

Of course, at that time, I had no idea who my American Government study partner would turn out to be. The little description she had given, I'd scribbled on the note that was now crumpled in my front pocket.

Elizabeth Ayers, long, blonde hair.

At the bottom, I'd jotted down her cell phone number.

Yeah, I'd be holding on to that.

A groan of apparent dread slipped through her lips, and the sound almost caused me to release one of my own.

"Are you sure? Because have you looked through this syllabus?"

She glanced up, then back at the small stapled pack of papers laid out between us. "There's going to be a ton of memorization. I'm pretty sure this is going to be a pretty difficult class," she said seriously, completely focused on the information she was devouring as her eyes roved over the page.

"You have no idea how happy I was to find that sign—up sheet for a study partner. I don't know about you, but I can't afford to get a bad grade in this class." She scribbled something in her notebook, licked her lips, rambled mostly to herself.

And I just stared.

Fifteen minutes ago, before I'd walked through the door of the café and seen her, I'd been all wrapped up in this grade, too. I'd been just as worried about who my partner would be. I'd figured it'd be my luck to get paired with some loser who would take advantage of my time and my hard work. I'd have dealt with it, too, sucked it up and worked my ass off because I had no other choice.

There was no way in hell I'd give my dad another reason to ride me because I had a grade slipping below his approval.

But no, I'd walked through the door and it was her.

Since then, I'd had a really hard time focusing on anything but the fluid lilt of her voice and the amber warmth of her soft brown eyes.

Shock had frozen me in the doorway when I walked through the door of the café and was met with the face of the same girl I hadn't been able to shake from my mind since the first day of our American Government class last week.

When the class had been dismissed, I gathered my things and stood to leave. Looking up to make my way down the aisle of steps, I'd glimpsed just the side of her face when she'd cast a furtive glance behind her as she'd been heading out the door.

My breath had caught.

Since then that face had slipped in and out of my mind, creeping into my thoughts, making recurrent appearances in my dreams.

My reaction to her had been just as strong when I walked through the door today.

Girls didn't do this me. And she'd managed it twice. Sitting across from her now, I knew I had to have her.

Even if it was only once.

Pausing, she looked up at me, her eyes narrowed in what appeared both humor and mild agitation. "Christian, did you hear anything I said?" she asked, her gaze wandering my face for an answer. "Please tell me you're not going to make me do all this work myself."

I attempted to shake off the visceral reaction that had my body itching to take what I instinctively knew would be mine. "Of course, I heard you. Class is going to be a ton of work. I'm good with that." I grinned at her. "And no, I'm not going to make you do all the work."

I nudged her foot under the table with mine, flashing the same smile I'd learned years ago was the surest way to get what I wanted. And what I wanted right then was her. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

Heat rose to her cheeks. I could almost feel her warmth radiating across my face in confused waves, this sweet shyness that seemed to be lacking from every other girl I'd run across since I came to this city. Lacking in every girl I'd come into contact with in the last four years, really.

I could feel the attraction that mingled with it, though it was flanked by a strong current of self—preservation.

"I haven't figured that out yet," she said as she straightened and pitched her head to the side. She slowly tapped the backside of her pen on her notepad, studying me for intent.

Her steady gaze locked on me, as if she contemplated who or what I was, while mine was unruly, my eyes wandering on their own accord.