Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51902 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“I’d like one of those egg-and-spinach croissants too, please. And whatever he’s drinking.” Jett hooked a thumb toward me. “It’s on me.”
“No, no. Allow me.” I fumbled for my wallet, scattered my driver’s license, a debit, and a Visa card on the counter, and apologized to the barista for holding up the line.
“It’s okay. The transaction went through. You’ll have to get him next time,” she said. “You wanted oat milk, right?”
“Yes, please.” I hurried to the pickup counter, but Jett was gone.
Ding-dang it.
I sighed. I’d have to try again.
Unfortunately, Jett didn’t show up at Coffee Cave the next day.
Or the next.
I hung around for as long as I dared, but I had classes to attend and TA responsibilities. I couldn’t spend every waking moment hunting for this man, for Pete’s sake. I was either going to have to employ other stalking techniques or…give up and find a different sporty angle for my thesis.
I wrinkled my brow, deep in thought as I continued along the wide corridor of the bustling physics building. Perhaps tennis, track and field, golf, or the one with the hoop and the orange ball, or—
My arm was jostled in the sea of students, knocking my computer bag from my shoulder. I stopped briefly to fix it and was nearly trampled by a bouncy young woman jogging toward the exit. I recognized her from the Modern Physics course I TA’d for Professor Higgins.
She doubled back to apologize. “Oops! Sorry, Mr. Maloney. I didn’t see you.”
“That’s all right, Lissa. No harm done.” I righted my glasses and smiled. “You’re in a hurry.”
“Sort of. I’m meeting some friends for a run.”
“A run,” I repeated, instantly recalling the social media posts Layla had unearthed with sunsets and sneakers. “That’s something sports people do, correct?”
Lissa jogged in place, her long ponytail swaying behind her like a pendulum. “Anyone can run. It’s easy, good exercise, and there’s a nice trail along the lake. Want to join me?”
I chuckled as if the very idea were hilarious and waved her off.
But gee, now the wheels were turning again. I was fairly sure I didn’t own any appropriate athletic attire—however, I had sneakers at home and a pair of sweatpants I occasionally slept in on cold winter nights. Those would certainly suffice.
Yes. Okay.
Now that I thought about it, I saw potential. I could catch up on my reading on a park bench and keep an eye out for the elusive hockey player. Two birds, one stone. It was a flimsy plan, but better than nothing.
Thankfully, my apartment was close to campus. I changed into sweats, slipped my textbooks into a more compact backpack, and headed to the racetrack. Excuse me—the running path. I mapped out a course, estimating that the best place to catch a jock would be at the intersection between the gymnasium and the trailhead.
Yes, I know. My machinations scared me, too. If a career in academia didn’t pan out, I could try my luck as a private detective. Multitasking was my specialty, so stakeouts would never be a bore. I could listen to the newest Science Today podcast, brush up on my electromagnetism notes, read a passage from my textbook, and…watch for slippery hockey players.
There was a good chance Jett had other plans this afternoon and that I was once again wasting precious time. But you know…I didn’t mind at all.
It was a beautiful autumn afternoon. The trees along the lakeside were a riot of red, orange, and yellow; the air was crisp and smelled faintly of crushed wet leaves and a distant bonfire. I relished the anticipatory feeling of impending holiday cheer that came before the usual stress of the season.
This was lovely.
I admired the filtered sunlight shimmering on the lake as I slipped my earbuds in and opened my textbook, delving into quantitative numbers and theorems with enthusiasm.
I stayed vigilant, though. I eyed every jogger, noticed parents pushing strollers or herding young children. I watched older kids ride by on bicycles and skateboards, and couples holding hands. The light faded to a hazy hue and the crisp air turned cool.
No, it was downright cold now, and my stomach gurgled incessantly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Maybe breakfast. Well, to heck with electricity and magnetism—I’d rather think about food.
I closed my book and slipped my earbuds out as I mentally catalogued the contents of my pantry, hoping a trip to the market wasn’t in order. Pasta was always a winner, or I could try to make my mom’s chicken casserole recipe with—
“You’re following me, huh?”
I jolted, my pulse skyrocketing at the sight of the sweaty shirtless masculine hunk towering over me, water bottle in hand.
“I’m—what? No, I was…” I cleared my throat, shamelessly stalling as I gathered my belongings. “That is to say, I’m going for a run. I couldn’t pass up an hour soaking in the sunshine with a sweet read, but—”