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I flush. I can’t help it. Obviously. And obviously, I’m out of my league here. This guy could have me for breakfast if he wanted, and from the gleam in his eye, I
’m not so sure he doesn’t.
I take a sip of my coffee, careful not to slosh it on my shirt. With the way my heart is racing, anything is possible.
“Yes, I guess so. Who are you visiting?”
Dare raises an eyebrow. “I’m visiting a grief group. My grandmother died recently, and my mother wants me to attend group therapy.”
“That’s what we’re doing too,” I tell him, surprised and excited by his answer. Surely we’re not attending the same group.
“You’re going to a grief group? Is yours in the Sunshine Room, perchance?”
My heart slams, because it is.
“Is that your first question? Because turn-about is fair play.” I suck at being flirty, but I give it my all.
Dare smiles broadly, genuinely amused.
“Sure. I’ll use a question.”
“Yes, we’re going to a grief group in the Sunshine Room. Our mother died recently.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dare says, and his voice is soft and I can tell that he is… sorry. He nods like he understands, and somehow, I feel like he does.
He takes a drink of his coffee. “What are the odds that you and I would be going to the same grief group? I think it must be kismet.”
“Kismet?” I raise an eyebrow.
“That’s fate, Calla,” he tells me. I roll my eyes.
“I know that. I may be going to a state school, but I’m not stupid.”
He grins, a grin so white and charming that my panties almost fall off.
“Good to know. So you’re a college girl, Calla?”
I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about why you think this is kismet. But I nod.
“Yeah. I’m leaving for Berkeley in the fall.”
“Good choice,” he takes another sip. “But maybe kismet got it wrong, after all. If you’re leaving and all. Because apparently, I’ll be staying for a while. That is, after I find an apartment. A good one is hard to find around here.”
He’s so confident, so open. It doesn’t even feel odd that a total stranger is telling me these things, out of the blue, so randomly. I feel like I know him already, actually.
I stare at him. “An apartment?”
He stares back. “Yeah. The thing you rent, it has a shower and a bedroom, usually?”
I flush. “I know that. It’s just that this might be kismet after all. I might know of something. I mean, my father is going to rent out our carriage house. I think.”
And if I can’t have it, it should definitely go to someone like Dare. The mere thought gives me a heart spasm.
“Hmm. Now that is interesting,” Dare tells me. “Kismet prevails, it seems. And a carriage house next to a funeral home, at that. It must take balls of steel to live there.”
I quickly pull out a little piece of paper and scribble my dad’s cell phone on it. “Yeah. If you’re interested, I mean, if you’ve got the balls, you can call and talk to him about it.”
I push the paper across the table, staring him in the eye, framing it up as a challenge. Dare can’t possibly know how I’m trying to will my heart to slow down before it explodes, but maybe he does, because a smile stretches slowly and knowingly across his lips.
