Page 14 of Off The Rush
“Thanks,” she replies.
“Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you around?” I say, feeling a strange sense of reluctance to leave. I follow her lead and punch her arm, recreating the awkwardness of our last goodbye.
She blushes and rolls her eyes. “Definitely. Goodnight, Alec.”
“Goodnight, Emma,” I echo, watching as she turns and makes her way up the front steps.
And as the cool night air washes over me, I find myself looking forward to what the future holds for Emma and me.
Chapter 6
I take my usual seat in my Great Literature Through the Ages class that counts as a Gen Ed credit, feeling a bit off-kilter. The girl I normally sit next to texted me that she will be absent today, and the empty space next to me feels exposed.
I relax when Professor Stelle starts his lecture, his black hair and glasses giving him an air of authority.
“Today, we’ll be discussing one of the most influential novels in the history of literature,” he said, his passion for the subject shining through in his voice.
As if on cue, the door opens with a soft creak, and none other than the coffee spiller walks in. He has tawny skin, black hair, and a charming smile. He’s tall and muscular, and as he scans the room for an open seat, I can’t help but notice the way his biceps flex beneath the fabric of his shirt.
Of course, the closest open seat just happens to be the one next to me.
I shift my focus back to Professor Martin’s words, determined not to be distracted by the handsome stranger now sitting beside me. As the professor dives further into the intricacies of the novel, I can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the guy’s tardiness. First, he spills his coffee all over me and now he comes to class late, he seems irresponsible.
“Please take out your copy of the book and turn to page thirty-seven,” Professor Stelle instructs.
That’s when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to find the guy leaning toward me, his cologne wafting through the air and invading my senses. I hate to admit I like it.
“Hey, um… I forgot my book today. Mind if we share yours?” he asks, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.
“Fine,” I huff, trying to hide my irritation. I scoot my chair sideways, just enough to allow him a clear view of the book. Internally, I am rolling my eyes. Why couldn’t he have come prepared like the rest of us? Despite my annoyance, I can’t deny that his warm brown eyes and delicious musky smell are doing things to me.
As we share the book, I try to focus on Professor Stelle’s words, but it’s difficult with the stranger’s proximity. His hand brushes against mine as we turn the pages in unison, sending shivers down my spine. I chastise myself for feeling this way - after all, he is just a guy who couldn’t even remember to bring his own book to class.
The last few minutes of class drag on, my thoughts alternating between the lecture and the attractive stranger sitting beside me. I can’t help but notice the way his arm muscles flex when he scribbles down notes or how his strong jaw clenches in concentration.
“Alright, everyone,” Professor Stelle says, snapping me back to reality. “That’s it for today. Don’t forget to read the next chapter and come prepared with questions for our discussion.”
As the students around me begin packing up their belongings, I close the book we shared and slip it into my bag. The guy turns to me, a charming smile on his face.
“Hi, I’m JD Murphy,” he says, extending his hand. “Thanks for letting me share your book today. Can I buy you a coffee to say thank you?”
I hesitate, wanting to refuse his offer but finding it difficult to resist those warm brown eyes. “I’m Emma. No, that’s okay,” I finally reply, shaking his hand briefly. “It’s not a big deal. Just remember to bring your book next time.”
“Alright, suit yourself,” he says, his smile unfazed. “But if you change your mind, the offer still stands.”
With that, I sling my bag over my shoulder and make my way out of the classroom. To my surprise, JD follows close behind me as I walk over to the coffee cart. I contemplate leaving without grabbing my usual caffeine fix, but the thought of trying to stay awake during my next class convinces me otherwise.
“Hey, wait up!” JD calls out, catching up to me as I reach the coffee cart. “You sure you don’t want that coffee? It’s on me, I promise. I’m pretty sure I also spilled coffee on you the other day so it can be an apology too.”
“Look, JD, I appreciate the offer, but I can buy my own coffee,” I say, trying to maintain a polite tone. “I need to get to my next class.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But at least let me pay for it this time. Consider it a penance.”
Before I can protest, JD has already handed the barista some cash and paid for my usual drink. I sigh, resigning myself to accept his gesture.
“Thanks,” I mutter, grabbing the steaming cup from the counter. “Just don’t make a habit out of it, alright?”
JD grins, raising his cup in a toast-like gesture. “Deal. Enjoy your coffee, Emma.”
