“So did you?” a low voice to my left asks.
Glancing up, I stare into the eyes of a handsome, well-dressed British man I know from my literature class. I think his name is Niall.
“Did I what?” I reply.
“Did you two enjoy a very romantic evening alone in Paris?”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he lifts his beer to his lips and takes a drink. I pause for a moment, trying to gauge what is happening. Is he being serious?
“Uh…no,” I stutter with a shake of my head. “He’s being daft. We’re just friends.”
“Pity,” Maybe-Niall replies. “I mean…not that you’re just friends, but that you didn’t have a romantic…” He shakes his head with a wince of embarrassment. “You know what, ignore me. I’m drunk and I sound like an idiot.”
Okay, I think he’s flirting with me.
I glance up toward Declan, but his attention is focused on the woman. I’m not used to men flirting with me, and I need my friend for guidance or something.
“You don’t sound like an idiot,” I reply comfortingly.
When he laughs, I let my gaze rake over his features. He’s very handsome, with deep, rich eyes and perfect white teeth. Could I see myself with someone like him? If he wanted to get me naked, would I let him?
“I’m Niall,” he says casually.
So I was right.
“Colin,” I reply putting out my hand for him to shake.
“I know who you are,” Niall says, and it makes me pause.
“We’re in the same lit class,” he adds in a rush when he realizes his response sounded a touch clingy.
I laugh to ease his nerves. He’s obviously uncomfortable.
My laughter catches the attention of Declan across the table, and I feel his scrutinizing gaze on my face. I like the idea ofkeepinghis attention, so I continue to flirt with Niall just to see Dec’s reaction.
“Any plans after graduation?” he asks.
“Going back to London,” I reply. “Hopefully, working on the West End if I can.”
“An actor?”
I nod. “Yes. Or at least, I hope so.”
“You have a face for the screen,” Niall replies, and I swear he’s sitting a little closer than he was a moment ago. Our eyes lock, and I let his compliment wash over me.
Has a man ever called me handsome before? Other than Declan, who I assume is usually taking a jab. The exhilaration of this man’s compliment seems new as warmth and arousal floods my bloodstream. I wantmore.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Shakespeare, you need another shot.” Declan’s voice bellows across the table, stealing my focus from the man I’m speaking to.
“I’ll get one for you,” Niall says before placing a hand on my knee.
I glare playfully at Declan as I reply to Niall. “No, Declan is sayingheneeds another shot, and he wants me to get it for him.”
Declan shoots me a wink, and I grit my teeth in annoyance—although the annoyance isn’t real. I could never be truly mad at him.
As I climb up from my seat at the table, Niall follows. When we reach the bar, he stands next to me.
