Page 16 of Sweetheart

"One, I didn't share it with you, Bishop.Youhoodwinked the info out of me by holding my list hostage.And two,can we please talk about something else?"

Sam bit back a grin. "You got it."

He was quiet for about five seconds beforethe head shaking started. Then came his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. The last straw was whenI noticed how he kept glancing my way with this concerned look on his face.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said then, "just seems like a lot."

Turning to face him fully, I lifted a brow. "Meaning?"

"You've got what, 20 items on there?" he said.

"22,"I corrected. "Though there is room for late additions."

"Okay"—Sam shrugged—"and you said you want to have it done by graduation?"

"That's right."

"Why so soon?" he asked.

To get all these firsts out of the way. To experience romance and all the things I've read about in booksand seen in moviesin a controlled environment. To know what love feels like…but not fall. So I won't run the risk of getting my heart broken.

Even if I told him, I didn't thinkSam would understand. Actually, I didn't knowwho would. Everyone seemed so eager to fall in love.Like it was the best thing in the world.

I knew better.

Love could leave you damaged, lonely, devastated.

And it always left. Everyone you love would leave eventually.

I'd rather stick to my list and timeline, thank you very much.

"I have my reasons," I said.

Sam's brow furrowed, but he didn't press me. "So you've got that many things to do, more than half of which need another person."

"Your point?"

"You're missing a crucial piece of the puzzle."

I liftedmy hands. "True, but I'm not worried. I'll find someone."

He remained unconvinced. "Come on, Kent.Your list reads like you're looking for the boyfriend experience. Some guys are creeps. You can't choose just anyone."

"I agree," I said, "which is why I came up with another list of criteria."

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this," he said.

I ignored the hint of sarcasm."Anyone who wants to be my assistant will have to meet certain qualifications."

"Assistant," he deadpanned.

"Yeah," I said then counted off on my fingers. "He'll need to love music or at least appreciategood music."

Samnodded. "And?"

"Well, he'll have to practice good hygiene—"

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