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“Shush, she’s about to speak. God, she has the most amazing voice.”
More than a little surprised, Ace realized the hipster was in the same boat he was. “Shit, are you crushing on your teacher?”
“Me and most of the archeology majors. She’s hot.”
“I’d have to agree with you about that. She’s a real nice person, as well.”
“She’s gorgeous.”
“You’re not here to perve on your professor. You’re working on a degree in archeology, remember?”
Shooing him away with one hand, she muttered, “I’m a chem major, but tonight I’m all about the archeology. Now seriously, dude, shut up.”
The less-than-charming girl was absolutely right. He shouldn’t be wasting time trying to convince her to get on task, since he was here for practically the same reason.
Scoping out the room one more time, he tried to ascertain how many of her students were just here to spend a little time with her. Thankfully, virtually none of them were paying any attention, even though she’d already started her speech. No, wait, it wasn’t a speech. When professors gave speeches, it was called a lecture. He noticed she was pretty much rolling through the first chapter in the book, giving random examples of prominent archeological finds to help make the information stick.
Several of the students were scribbling furiously, intent on capturing every word. The hipster chick seemed to be vacillating between being awestruck and getting down enough information to pass the class. Since she wasn’t telling him much that he didn’t already know from reading the text, Ace laid his cell aside. He’d uploaded a program to make notes, but it hardly seemed worth the effort. She had a way about her, probably because she was so enthusiastic about the subject matter that it made the material easy to remember.
Ace thought wryly, college was probably something he could have really enjoyed if he hadn’t spent most of his life incarcerated for his brother’s crime. Still, he was doing okay for a guy who’d been dealt a shit hand in life.
After class was over and the youngsters began filing out of the classroom, he again noticed the pretty redhead seemed a little anxious. Pulling out one of his special homemade calling cards, he gave her a little two-finger salute, dropped it on the desk, and tapped it with two fingers. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he did an about face and strolled out of the room.
Shortly after making it out of the building, he realized the hipster chick was running to catch up with him. Unsure what she could possibly want, he picked up his pace.
Being young and spry, she quickly and easily caught up with him. Why does everything about this chick make me feel older than the hills?
“Hey, what’s up with the playing card?”
“What playing card?” Shoving his book into his saddlebag, he was beginning to get the little sister vibe from her.
She frowned at him. “Don’t be coy. It never looks good on a guy. You put an ace of hearts on the table and made sure she saw it.”
Climbing onto his bike, he grabbed his helmet. “My name is Ace and it had my cell number on the back.”
“Fuck me, dude. That was smooth.”
“It wasn’t all that clever, kid. I like nonverbal communication. It puts the ball in her court.” Just then his phone jingled. Pulling it out, he smiled.
“Are you kidding me? She just texted you, didn’t she.”
“It’s rude to ask and ruder still for me to say. Now amscray, kid, and let the grown-ups talk.”
Shifting her backpack to get comfortable, she tossed him a lopsided smile. “Have at it, dude. See you on Thursday.”
“Take it easy and stay safe.”
“You sound like my dad when he’s trying to be all cool and shit.”
Ripping out a page from her book, he muttered without looking up, “Whatever.” His mind was already preoccupied with texting the woman of his dreams.
I’m guessing your name is Jeremy Strond. I called role when I first came in but you didn’t answer.
Sorry about that.
You were probably too busy talking to Miss Jennifer Jackson to hear me.
If you say so. I didn’t catch her name.
