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I sit back and stare at him while I try not to wolf down this thing. Gas-station donuts should not be this good, but I’m a total trash panda for QuikTrip cuisine. With a bit of food in my tummy, I start to appreciate what Milo’s wearing today: a gray fisherman-style sweater that complements his eyes. “I like your sweater.”
“Thanks,” he beams. “My mom knitted it.”
Of course, she did. Even his mom is indirectly conspiring to make me like this man. “I’m 22.”
“I know.”
“Wait a minute, you know? Did my sister tell you? Who have you been talking to?”
Once again, Milo puts up his hands. “You put your birthday on Facebook as public.”
I whip out my phone. “Not anymore,” I say through a mouthful of donut, tapping the app and heading over to my personal profile settings.
“I don’t mean to be a creep. I’m sorry. I know you think I’m too old for you, but hear me out. Age is just a number. I’m still the same person I was in my 20s and 30s, and I don’t have any other agenda. I just like you, and I want to be around you.”
I cover my mouth, trying not to burst into laughter because he doesn’t even realize.
“You’re ruining my determination to marry someone my own age. My oldest sister married someone more than twice her age. My second-oldest sister married my dad’s best friend.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. I know. Diana, the middle child, decided to rebel and marry a guy only ten years older, who also happened to be her boss. Cherise is deliberately going against the grain so hard in the Williams clan that she’s in a two-year relationship with a guy her age who used to be a high school friend.”
He smiles. “That sounds nice for her.”
“It’s not. He’s a total wet blanket.”
“Oh.”
“So you’ll understand if I’m overwhelmed by the fact that a man twice my age is pursuing a date with me.”
“So I guess we don’t have to worry about your family not being accepting of me because of my age.”
I rear back. “What did you say?”
“You’re the one who brought up marriage, friend.”
I stare back at him, my mouth hanging open.
He’s right. I did bring up marriage. Why did I do that?
“You’re right,” I say. “I should go. This is getting intense.”
“Wait, Cecily. I’m sorry if I came on too strong.”
I stand and hoist my backpack and grab my coffee. And another donut. “I have to get to my exam anyway.”
“I’ll walk with you,” he says.
I squint at him as he rises to stand. My heart thuds. The man really is a big, silly bear, isn’t he? Cute, a little stalkery, and sweet. “You’re going to follow me either way, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Despite not being sure about going on a date with this Sasquatch—this adorable, seemingly friendly Sasquatch who is inexplicably attracted to my witchy ass—or about trying his food again, I do appreciate an escort to the classroom building.
“This is not the greatest neighborhood,” he remarks as we walk.
I look around at the handful of buildings in this semi-industrial corner of the city. “It’s not that bad. This area used to be a bedroom community until some of the plants closed. The school has a decent communications program. I chose it after watching so many family and friends struggle with a mountain of student debt, even with academic scholarships. I didn’t want to do that to myself.”
