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I frowned.

“I’ve got my own changes I’m going through.” He shrugged. “Most recently, coming back home. I used to go to Brown University before Pembroke.”

“Yeah, she told me,” I informed him, and when he blinked, I thought to say more as well. “Not the details, but that you used to go there. That you don’t now and that you maybe got into some trouble.”

“Ah. Seems my life is an open book.” His brow lifted, not much humor there. Not like he usually had anyway. He took a sip of his coffee, but when he cringed, I laughed.

That was until I tasted mine.

It was freaking terrible, the epitome of, and seeing my face, Ramses took my cup.

“Let’s, uh,” he started, making quick work of them both by tossing the paper cups in the trash. After that, he ventured over to his stuff. He slid those long arms into his coat, and when he popped his collar, I asked him what was up. He laughed. “I think I’ve had enough coping. I’m going to go get a real cup of coffee.”

“You’re playing hooky?” I eyed him, being coy, something I never did. Well, before him.

“Maybe. You game? I don’t see you trying to cope with a lot of change either.” He leaned in. “You know, since you basically almost ran me down trying to leave.”

I shoved him and immediately noticed when my hand lingered. How it burned at even just a touch of him. He made it so easy to be in his presence, and though I definitely shouldn’t be ditching anything to go and be with him, I did notice my way of coping, feeling better, only seemed to happen as of late with him around.

Bringing my hand back, I studied the room. “Promise not to tell Evie?”

But he was already grabbing my stuff. He handed me my coat. “As long as you promise not to tell my mom.”

*

Ramses chose a donut place, one easy to walk to downtown. We hadn’t had to drive and made quick work of dodging the intensifying snow. We eased inside the shop like we had that night for pizza, but this time, he let me order for myself. Not that I didn’t want him to order for me. It just didn’t seem appropriate today.

Things were different at this moment in time, the two of us acquaintances, and acquaintances ordered for themselves.

Yes, that.

Anyway, I got my favorite donut, a chocolate-covered long John. He’d chosen about half a dozen donut holes and black coffee. My bottle of water was good with my food after that terrible coffee at the meeting.

We joked about that again as we sat down and after taking off our coats, found ourselves once again in easy conversation. I didn’t know what it was about this guy who was over a decade my junior. He was just freaking easy to talk to. He told me about his day of work after class, and I told him about my day teaching. It hadn’t been hard for either of us, and though I think we both had a few questions about how the evening began, we didn’t talk about it.

At least, not at first.

I saw the topic shift into something different quickly. How the easy stuff started to lull and the harder stuff poked toward that awkward silence. How the urge to find out something about each other besides the physical or the trivial stuff on paper was there, and really, that was when we had left together last time. We’d didn’t want to talk once we hit that point at the pizza place. We’d wanted to avoid.

Because if we had, we would’ve had to look in each other’s eyes.

We had to see each other, flaws and all. We had to reveal truths and the struggles of our pasts, and that night at the wedding, I didn’t think either one of us wanted to do that.

>

We’d shown that in spades.

“So, your mom thinks you have an attitude,” I chose to say, still easy and way more painless to endure than his eyes on me, searching me. I found myself avoiding their probe behind my bottle of water, the perfect way to avoid the seemingly endless press of his gaze.

Perhaps, he noticed what I did there, turning the tables and topic in his direction. If he did, he didn’t call attention to it, wiping his hands on his napkin before leaning back. He once again filled the entire booth, a mighty titan and the world his tiny abyss. His smile lifted right. “I do have an attitude. Honestly, I find it hard to believe she hasn’t disowned me at this point.”

Well, I found that hard to believe, this guy a perfect gentleman to the point I thought I should search for his robotic wires. I crossed my arms. “You’re messing with me.”

“Not messing.” A chuckle as he tapped his cup. “I’m a smart ass and you yourself said I was arrogant.”

He was, sometimes. I eyed him. “Why on God’s green Earth would Evie,” I stopped when I realized I was talking about his mother. Dumb, I knew. “Why would she think you have an attitude?”

“Because I push. I push her. She doesn’t get me sometimes, and when she pushes, I push right back. I’m stubborn that way.”

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