“Please tell me your dog didn’t die.”
I glance up, startled, and find a brown-haired guy with light hazel eyes standing in front of me. He’s not overly tall, but I wouldn’t say short either. Firmly in the middle-king category.
“Um, excuse me?” I ask, confused.
He gestures to my phone. “You looked pretty upset. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t serious. And if so, see if I could help.”
I blink up at him, only now realizing that he’s kinda cute.
“Oh, this?” I ask with a bit of a nervous laugh. “No, it’s just my parents checking in on me.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Wow, that’s really sweet actually.”
“Yeah, well, we’re really close,” I say, feeling awkward.
What nineteen-year-old college student has their parents checking in on them on a Friday night? I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
“That’s cool you’re so close with your parents,” he says, and then tries to slide his hands into his pockets, but the blue and gold pom-poms sticking out stop him.
With a sheepish look that somehow makes him even cuter to me, he drops his arms and shrugs.
That’s when I notice his t-shirt says, “Go Ceilings!” I cock my head, trying to figure it out, when he pulls the pompoms out of his pockets and gives them a shake and repeats the phrase on his shirt.
“I’m a ceiling fan,” he says with a lopsided smile. “Get it?”
I laugh. “Clever. I like it,” I say with a smile.
He shoves the pompoms back into his pockets, his gaze drifting down the long line of people, mostly women, still waiting for the bathroom. “It looks like you might need some saving after all.”
I frown, not catching his meaning.
He leans closer, and I can smell some sort of spicy cologne or aftershave. It’s nice. Especially since the air around us is tinted with sweat.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I have a private bathroom upstairs if you want to use it,” he says quietly.
When he pulls back, he gives me another one of those crooked smiles. “I’m just another flight up. If you want to wait, that’s fine. It’s up to you.”
I glance to the left and right to see if anyone overheard and is annoyed at not being invited to use a private bathroom, but the girls in front of me are talking in a group, and the couple behind me is making out.
I bite down on my bottom lip again, unsure.
I don’t know this guy, but he seems nice. And all I’m doing is using the bathroom. Besides, if this takes too long, Tate and Kendra are going to start worrying, and this line is moving at a snail’s pace.
“Sure,” I answer with a nod, and his smile ramps up.
“Great. This way,” he says, gesturing for me to go in front of him. A move I find chivalrous.
As we climb another flight of stairs, I’m not worried at all he’s looking up my short skirt, because the red cape covers me from shoulders to ankles. Eventually, we find ourselves at the start of a long hallway that feels a bit like a dorm, with doors lining both sides all the way down to a window at the far end.
“It’s the second door on the right,” he says, no longer having to shout or raise his voice now that we’re on the third floor to be heard. “I don’t want you to feel trapped or anything, so I’ll wait out here. Just don’t judge the mess too harshly. I wasn’t planning on bringing any pretty girls up here tonight.”
He thinks I’m pretty? No guy has ever told me that before.
A warm feeling blooms over me. “No promises,” I say with a sly smile.
Am I flirting?
And if so, I wonder how I’m doing. If the smile he gives me back is any indication, I think I’m doing all right.
