She was beautiful, and my attraction to her hit harder than anything I’d ever experienced. A ripple of desire shot throughout my entire body in a way I assumed felt like being struck by lightning. She wore long athletic pants with a cropped sweatshirt over an athletic shirt that wasvisible across her stomach. She was fit as hell, and based on her attire, she was clearly into something physical, but I’d never seen her with the other athletes on campus before. I stood up to greet her, awestruck by her eyes. They were a blue I’d only ever seen in pictures of tropical beaches, and they stood out against her long, dark hair and olive complexion.
Interesting. People always say my blue eyes and dark hair are what stand out in my appearance. I get it now.
I forced myself to find my voice. “Hey. Sophia?”
“That’s me,” she said, stepping toward me. She had an iced latte in her hand, and I smiled when I saw the Ackerson’s logo.
Apparently, she enjoys my parents’ establishments. One of them, anyway.
She stopped in front of me and held out her hand. “I’m Sophia Grimes. Nice to meet you.”
I smirked at her formality and shook her hand, trying to ignore the warm tingling sensation I felt.
“I wasn’t expecting you so early,” I said.
“I don’t like being late,” she said earnestly.
“Well, then it’s a good thing I wasn’t late either. Be honest, would you have held it against me?” I asked with a flirtatious smile as we sat down across from each other.
“Yes,” she answered, matter-of-factly. “Especially since I would have assumed it had something to do with the way you rocketed out of a two-story window in your underwear a few hours ago.”
I chuckled and rubbed my jaw. “You saw that, did you?”
“I did. Tell me, Leo Harrison, is it a habit of yours to exit the dorms of young women through the window? Is there a reason you’re averse to doors?” She folded her arms across her chest and the slight indignationin her voice made it clear that she was not charmed by me the way other girls were.
“Is that an official question?” I asked, more than a little amused.
“Are you comfortable with me printing your answer in black and white?”
I searched her face for a moment trying to discern if she really wasn’t affected by me. She made no indication that she was interested in sitting here and flirting with me or trying to catch my attention.
When was the last time someone looked at me with indifference?
A lot of women fawn over you when you’ve already been drafted by a pro team and attend college at a school that values hockey players. I’d gotten used to it, and I’d certainly benefited from the attention in my own way, but it had quickly gotten old. Whatwasa novelty though, was this girl not giving a damn who I was. It had a strange sort of appeal that only made her more attractive than she already was.
Her eyes narrowed as I took too long to answer her question.
I held up three fingers like a Boy Scout. “Scouts honor, that was the first time I’ve ever exited through the window, and I hope to make it my last.”
“Were you a Boy Scout?” she asked, pulling a notepad out of her tote bag. She flipped to an empty page and pulled the pen from the spiral on the top.
“Seriously, are these questions on the record?” I asked with an amused smile.
“You can assume everything I ask you is on the record since this isn’t a social call.”
I snorted as Olivia, a brunette who’d been working here for several months, came over to our table from behind the bar with glasses of waterfor Sophia and me. She set them down. “Can I get you two anything to eat?”
Sophia asked for one of the restaurant’s signature salads without even looking at a menu. “Also, I hope the latte is, okay.” She held it up to Olivia. “I know it’s not polite to bring in outside beverages, but one of the other bartenders told me it was fine since Ackerson’s is owned by the same people and you don’t make iced lattes here.”
Olivia smiled at her before giving me a slight eyebrow raise. It would appear Sophia had not made the connection between the name of this bar and the name of the person she was interviewing.
Olivia turned back to Sophia. “It’s no problem at all.” She turned to me. “The usual for you?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Liv,” I said, passing her Sophia’s menu.
“That was very rule-following of you,” I said, taking a sip of my water as Olivia walked back to the bar.
“Restaurants survive based on selling you productsin the restaurantwhen you sit at their table. It’s only fair to ask if you’re going to break one of the basic tenants of that arrangement,” she said.
