Hmm, she would have to ask Mark about that.

  The rest of the class was spent getting their scene assignments and discussing the requirements for their presentations.

  As Josie was packing up her laptop and papers, she felt someone watching her and looked up. It was Vi.

  Their gazes met, and Vi looked quickly away.

  A tingle of unease ran up Josie’s spine. Clearly the other girl had something on her mind. But before Josie could decide what to do about it, Vi picked up her laptop bag and hurried from the room.

  Whatever was going on, she wouldn’t let it bother her. She slung her bag over her shoulder and started for the door.

  “Josie, do you have a minute?” Dr. Feni was right behind her.

  Josie stopped. “Sure.”

  “I’d like you to come see me in my office some time soon. It’s Wilscher 316. Do you know where that is?”

  Josie nodded. “I was over there when you signed my add/drop for this class.”

  “Of course you were.” Dr. Feni smiled. “I forgot about that. I have hours on Wednesday and Friday afternoons.”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  The professor shook her head. “Not at all. I like to meet with my freshman advisees a couple times during the semester and talk about how things are going. That’s all.”

  “You had me worried for a minute.”

  “Oh, and let me be the first to congratulate you,” Dr. Feni said.

  “For what?”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  Josie shook her head.

  “The roles have been posted for My Fair Lady. You’re going to be our Eliza.”

  “Really?” Joy flooded through Josie, and she felt the grin break across her face. “Dr. Feni, for real?”

  “Yes, for real. And please, call me Kierra. Dr. Feni is my father.”

  Josie laughed. She’d never known a teacher who asked her students to use her first name. But this was college, and they were all adults. Still, it was going to take some getting used to.

  “Dr. Feni? I mean, Kierra, can I ask, who got Henry?”

  “Mark Talleo. Do you know him?”

  * * * *

  He finally had her to himself. Well, sort of. Just Josie and him and the couple dozen or so other students in the Book and Bean, all either guzzling coffee, studying, chatting, or any combination of the three.

  Mark grabbed their coffees and the bag that held the giant chocolate chip cookie and headed for the tiny two-person table by the window where Josie waited for him.

  “I got us a cookie.” Mark set down the drinks and the bag before sliding into the chair across from her. Their knees bumped under the table. Mark inhaled the scents of coffee, chocolate, and a spicier fragrance he now knew was Josie’s perfume. He’d been smelling it every night for a week in rehearsal, and it was making him crazy.

  “You smell good,” Mark said.

  She laughed. “That’s the coffee you smell, or the cookie.”

  “Nope, it’s totally you.”

  The compliment seemed to fluster her. She ducked her head, a curtain of hair falling forward to hide her face, but not before Mark saw the blush blooming in her cheeks.

  “Whatever you say,” she murmured.

  “You’re shy!” For whatever reason, the idea delighted him. Mark leaned across the table and caught her hair in his fingers. He swept it back over her shoulder, then let it slide through his fingers before letting go.

  “I am not. Just…” Josie shook her head.

  “Why are you hiding, then? It’s okay. I used to be shy too when I was a kid.”

  “Oh yeah, I believe that.” She laughed. “I guess you’ve got a bridge to sell me too.”

  “Swear to God, it’s true. My mom used to give me grief about it all the time.”

  “So how’d you get over it?”

  Mark sipped his coffee and considered. “I think it was the singing. First in the choir, then as a soloist. And in high school I started doing theater.”

  “What made you start with the theater?”

  “I wanted to meet this girl who was trying out for R&J, so I auditioned and got the part.” Mark broke the cookie in half. He placed half on a napkin and slid it across the table toward Josie.

  “Which part?”

  “Romeo.”

  “And did you get the girl?”

  Mark nodded and bit into his cookie. “Yep, got her too.”

  Josie broke off a piece of her own cookie and studied him as she chewed. “Hmm, is that why you started doing theater here too? To meet girls?”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  As if on cue, the door to the coffee shop opened and in came Vi and her posse. Mark recognized three of the girls, including Vi’s roommate and BFF Brianna, as theater majors, but there was a fourth, tall with dark hair, he didn’t know. This girl said something, and they all looked over, including Vi.

  Her gaze locked with his. Her brows drew down, that line of annoyance Mark knew so well dug between them. She said something to her friends, and they all laughed.

  “Hello?”

  Mark jolted guiltily. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  “See someone you know?” Josie turned and looked. She lifted a hand in greeting.

  To Vi? Yeah, it sure looked that way.

  Vi gave a little finger wave, then turned away. After a moment, Brianna waved too, then followed her leader to the counter.

  “I didn’t realize you and Vi were friends,” Mark said as casually as he dared.

  “We have a class together.”

  “Besides Autoethno?”

  She nodded. “We’re in performing Shakespeare together. In fact, we’re scene partners. We’re doing a scene from Othello.”

  “Othello, huh? That’s great.”

  Yeah, great. What might Vi tell Josie about him? Not that things had ended badly between them; at least he was trying for them not to end badly. Vi just wasn’t very good at taking the hint. Well, seeing him here with Josie might help drive the point home. He only hoped it wouldn’t create problems rather than resolving them. Maybe he should chug his latte and suggest they get out of there.

  As if she’d read his mind, Josie picked up her coffee and drained it before setting the empty cup on the table and dusting cookie crumbs from her fingers.

  “I should get going. I have to go home and find some waltzing videos on YouTube.” She got to her feet. “Thanks for the coffee and the cookie.”

  “I could teach you,” Mark blurted.

  “I imagine they’ll teach everybody during rehearsal.”

  “Yeah, they will. But it’ll be more fun if I teach you, and you can get ahead of the curve.” He was trying too hard and knew it, but she didn’t seem to care.

  She paused in gathering up their trash and looked at him, eyes narrowed. “You know how to waltz, then? Really?”

  “Sure. It’s pretty easy. But no way you can learn effectively from a video. I think if you have a private lesson…”

  He let the suggestion trail off and waited to see how she’d react. He could already imagine holding her in his arms and the intimacy of waltzing. It was a damn good way to get close to her again.

  “I don’t know. Where could we do it?”

  She was wavering as if she wanted to trust him but wasn’t sure. He was certain she liked him—pretty certain. And they had good chemistry on stage, better than he and Vi had. He made up his mind to push, but only a little. She was skittish, this girl, and he didn’t want to scare her off.

  “We could maybe find an empty classroom.” Or his dorm room. Or her apartment. Best of all worlds, that one.

  “Do you really know how to waltz?”

  She was twisting a napkin between her fingers. Tight, tighter, tightest. He realized her nails were bitten down to the quick, the nail polish chipped where it was still visible at all.

  Mark leaned in close and covered her hands with one of his. “I was in My Fair Lady in high school. That’s when I learned how to waltz originally. I can prove it to you if you don’t believe me. C’mon.”

  He stood and held out a hand in invitation.

  “Here?” She stared at the hand he held out like it was a snake ready to strike.

  Mark shrugged as if it were no big thing, though his heart was pounding. “Well, the music’s wrong, but I can still show you the basics.”

  Josie laughed. “I’m not waltzing with you in the middle of the Book and Bean. But…”

  Your place…your place…your place…

  Though he didn’t really believe in the power of suggestion, Mark concentrated on sending his thought.

  She raised her index finger to her mouth like she meant to bite the nail, then lowered it. “I guess we could go to my apartment.”

  Yes!

  Mark resisted doing an actual fist pump and settled for a mental one.

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  WHAT THE HELL was she doing? Josie felt the stares of everyone in the coffee shop as she walked to the door with Mark. But that was ridiculous. Nobody was looking at them, with the possible exception of Vi and her cronies. As much as she normally dreaded unwanted attention from both strangers and near strangers, which these girls certainly were, a small part of her thrilled at the knowledge she had what they seemed to want, the attention of a hot guy.

  “Bye, Mark. Nice to see you too.”

  Josie didn’t turn to see which girl had said it, but her stomach dropped into her shoes at the laughter that followed, and she quickened her pace.

  Mark said nothing and seemed not to have heard them. God, how could he ignore them like that?

  Suddenly desperate to escape, Josie reached the door ahead of Mark and pushed it open. With no thought as to where she was going, she turned left and started down the street. The cool air felt wonderful on her heated skin.

  “Hey, wait up.”

  She heard footsteps behind her, then felt a touch on her elbow as Mark caught up. She stopped and turned to face him.

  “Where’s the fire, Joes?” He lifted a hand and pushed her hair back from her face.

  It was the second time he’d done that, and strangely enough, she found she liked it, the odd intimacy of him touching her hair and letting his touch linger, almost against her skin but not quite. She nearly pressed her cheek into his hand but stopped herself. That would be…well, not right somehow, though she didn’t know how.

  “My car’s the other way.” He held out his hand and, when she didn’t immediately take it, took hers.

  Moments later she was seated in Mark’s red Mustang. She clicked the seat belt and settled back against the white leather upholstery.

  “Nice car. It’s a convertible, isn’t it?”

  Mark nodded, then checked his mirrors before pulling into the light traffic. “You were in my car before.”

  “I know, but I guess I didn’t really notice it on account of the rain.”

  And her own nervousness at finding herself alone with him, but she kept that to herself.

  “Yeah, well, a convertible doesn’t show to its best advantage in the pouring rain. It’s nice tonight, though. Shall I put the top down?”

  “Isn’t it kind of cold for that?”

  “I’ll keep the windows up and put the heat on.”

  She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No. Here, look, it’ll be great.”

  At the next light, Mark set the emergency brake, flipped the latches on the top, then pushed a button. The mechanism hummed softly as the top folded back. After he pressed a few more buttons, heat blew warm against her legs, and the windows slid smoothly up. A car behind them tooted its horn.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mark mumbled. “I’m going.”

  The light changed, and they started forward. Within half a block, the wind caught Josie’s hair and whipped it across her face.

  She squeaked and quickly gathered it in her hand, holding it back.

  “Here.” Mark reached into the back and pulled out a Phillies cap and passed it to her. “Put this on. It’ll keep you from having dreads by the time we get to your house.”

  Josie accepted the hat. But just as she was pulling her hair through the opening at the back, she caught sight of her reflection in the rearview and paused.

  Maybe it was having her hair pulled away from her face. Or maybe it was the scooped neck of her T-shirt. Whatever it was made her Adam’s apple stick out like a road sign: CAUTION: BIOLOGICAL MALE AHEAD!

  “I’m okay,” she said, pulling the cap off and shoving it behind her seat.

  Mark shrugged. “Suit yourself, but it’s not like on TV where your hair blows straight back.”

  “I’m okay. I look weird in baseball caps so…”

  “I bet you don’t. And who cares anyway? Put it on, and let’s see.”

  “No, really.”

  “C’mon.” Mark reached back and grabbed the cap from behind her seat. At the stop sign, he stuck it on her head, then turned down the bill.

  “You look great.” Josie reached up to pull the cap off but stopped. Without her hair through the back, she looked okay.

  “This is your street, right?” Before she could answer, he turned the car down her street.

  She saw with relief Kyle’s car was parked in front of the house, which meant he was home. So she wouldn’t be alone with Mark after all.

  Josie sighed and tried to ignore the niggle of disappointment. Ha, like she had any business being disappointed.

  “It looks like my roommate’s home,” Josie said as she opened her seat belt and reached for the door handle.

  “Is that his car?” Mark gestured at the canary-yellow station wagon.

  Josie nodded and pulled keys from her pocket.

  Chapter Five

  He didn’t understand this girl, didn’t feel like he knew her at all. But maybe that was about to change. It would if he had anything to say about it.

  Mark followed Josie up two long flights of stairs, their shoes echoing against the bare wooden floorboards.

  It was no chore to watch those endless legs and that tight little ass as she mounted the stairs in front of him. Mark’s whole body tightened with anticipation as he recalled all the things they’d said to each other during their recent phone-sex session. Now he was going to teach her how to waltz.

  Why Josie was suddenly so willing to let him not only touch her but come up to her apartment, he had no idea. But why question such a stroke of good fortune?

  Take it easy, Mark counseled himself. Go slow. And he would. He had to, because this girl was as skittish as a feral cat, ready to bolt at the least wrong move on his part.

  Keys jingled softly as Josie unlocked her apartment door. She opened it wide and turned on a lamp right by the door before she motioned him inside.

  “Ta-da! This is it.”

  “Wow, it’s tiny.”

  Josie laughed. “It’s big enough for me and Kyle. And the rent’s cheap, so…”

  Pulling off her jacket, she tossed it in the direction of her desk chair. It missed and slid to the floor in a heap.

  Mark removed his own jacket and hung both his and hers over the back of the chair, since there didn’t seem to be anywhere else to put them. There was a closet, open and spilling clothes. More clothes were piled in the farthest corner next to a narrow hallway that must lead to the bedrooms.

  Josie seemed to notice him noticing and smiled. “Guess I neglected to tell you we’re total slobs. That’s Kyle stuff. He doesn’t have a closet in his room, so…”

  “Kind of hard to be neat in a place this small. And if you think this is bad, you should see mine and Masterson’s room.”

  “Is that Dave Masterson, the football player?”

  “Yeah, you know him?”

  “Not really. Kyle dragged me to a game last fall when we were thinking about coming here. He has a massive crush on Dave Masterson.” Josie started to laugh, then stopped and widened her eyes. “You won’t say anything to him, will you? I don’t—”

  “I won’t say anything. I don’t think he’d care, but I won’t.”

  For a moment, she looked relieved; then her gaze strayed to the hallway like she was expecting someone to come out of the bedrooms. “I wonder where Kyle is. Ky?”

  No answer.

  “Maybe he’s not here.”

  “His car’s outside.” Josie walked toward the rear of the apartment, once more calling her roommate’s name. She disappeared, leaving Mark alone in the living room.

  She was back in less than a minute. Apparently the other rooms weren’t much larger than this one.

  “He’s not here.” Josie walked to a small refrigerator located under the one foot of counter space in the galley kitchen. “Want something to drink? I think we have some wine.”

  “Sure, wine would be great.” Without waiting for an invitation, Mark sat on a slightly lumpy couch covered in a bold floral pattern of blues and reds and purples. A tiny coffee table stood in front of the couch, and Mark set his keys and cell phone on it.

  Josie carried two glasses of pale gold wine over to the couch and set them on the table before sitting next to Mark. She handed him a glass, then picked up her own.

  “Sliánte!” She clinked her glass against his, then sipped.

  Mark echoed her, then took a small sip from his glass. He didn’t much like wine, would have preferred a beer, but since wine was what she had, he could roll with it. He set the glass on the table, noticing hers was already half gone.

  “I didn’t know you were Irish,” he said.

  This made her laugh. She gestured to herself. “Um, red hair and freckles plus the palest skin ever is a pretty sure bet my ancestors came from the Emerald Isle, and not so long ago either. Actually, my gran still goes back every year for like a month.”

  “Do you know Gaelic?”

  “No, I just like that toast.” She lifted her glass and drained it, then got up and crossed to the counter where she’d left the wine bottle.

  “Here, drink mine.” Mark stood and carried his nearly full glass over to the counter. He passed it to her.

  “Don’t you like wine?” She sipped, a much smaller sip this time, but didn’t set the glass down.

  “Not that much, really. I haven’t had it that often, only during holiday dinners and usually my mom buys white zinfandel, which I think tastes gross.”

 

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