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I looked down at my laptop and woke up my screen. The cursor blinked at me, demanding words I just couldn’t write. I had worked so hard and for so long to get into law school. Now that I was, and only weeks away from my degree, I was letting life pass me by.
There was only one person in the world who acknowledged that. My gram. Just after Christmas she passed away, leaving me the deed to her house and a bucket list—a list I had to complete before I finished law school. I snorted. The clock was ticking, and I hadn’t checked off one damn item. In fact, the only thing I’d managed to do with the list was copy it to a piece of turquoise paper and keep it in my agenda.
I pulled it out and stared at the fascinating, yet random, set of items.
1. Go out with someone you’d never give the time of day
2. Give yourself permission to lose control
3. Fail at something
4. Try something athletic
5. Read a book for fun
6. Be the center of attention
7. See something amazing
8. Say you’re sorry
9. Break someone’s heart
10. Laugh so hard you cry
11. Change someone’s life
I had no idea what Gram was thinking. She knew how busy I was. She knew that all I did was study, with no time for anything else. I’d even had to give up my extracurricular activities just to keep up.
I looked up at my roommates. Grace and Sadie weren’t afraid to go after what they wanted. They weren’t afraid to try new things or put themselves on the line, and I envied the hell out of them. Given the same challenge, their lists would be complete by now. I, on the other hand, had papers to write, exams to take, and a life in the legal system to attain.
I carried the list with me, believing that it kept my gram close. The poor woman had tried to get me to open up, loosen up, and
fly beyond the walls I had constructed to keep me focused. I think she knew the evening I cited case law to support my argument for staying up past my bedtime she had lost the battle. The guilt that she had died a failure, and the only one who didn’t expect anything from me, nagged at me every day. I had loved her, still loved her, more than anything in this world, and I wanted to complete the list for her; I just had no idea where to begin.
I slipped the list under my book just as a shadow fell over my table. I snapped up my head and gasped. The six-foot-three hustler had just approached.
“What…what are you doing here?”
Crap cakes! He was even more beautiful at a second glance. His hair was messy, like he’d just had a night of blistering hot sex. His black suit was tailored perfectly. Every time the fabric pulled away from the middle of his chest it exposed a white dress shirt, the first button open at his neck, no tie. With every arm movement the dress shirt pulled tight across his pecs. The flat front of his dress pants were pin straight and I couldn’t help but imagine how the fabric would stretch and accommodate an erection.
I slammed my textbook shut around the pencil I had stuck in the spine. Those thoughts weren’t going to get me through whatever conversation was going to take place.
“May I?” He gestured to the opposite side of the booth.
I nodded.
He was invading my space. Taking up a lot of it, too. His body barely fit between the table and the bench. I was nice enough to pull the table toward me, giving him some breathing room.
“So…law school.” He leaned back and draped one arm across the top of the booth, his chest puffing out, and I wanted to paw at his hard torso.
“Yes, law school.” I slipped my hands under my thighs, desperate to minimize the opportunity to reach out and touch him, eventually making a fool of myself. “Can I…help you with something?”
His big hand gripped the top of the booth while one finger tapped slowly, his attention directed at me. “I just wanted to apologize for the whole thinking-you’re-an-escort thing.”
An apology was not what I was expecting. He seemed like the type of guy who didn’t apologize for anything. He wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed when I called him out on ogling my body. Under different circumstances, I might admire the way in which he made no excuses for his behavior, how he owned his character. Something I was unable to do.
“Not a problem.” I shrugged. “Being friends with Stella and Jade, it can happen.”
