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I’d love to have someone special be the best part of my day, too.
The first person to sit down at my table in Round 2 is that gorgeous awkward guy who came in late. Up close, he’s even more gorgeous than I’d thought, and I catch my breath.
And then he speaks. “Hi. I’m Hugo.”
He really is gorgeous. Dark wavy hair. Gray eyes. Those fricking cheekbones. Those chiseled lips. And yet he doesn’t seem cocky like a gorgeous man usually is.
“Dara.” We shake hands. I’m waiting for him to ask where he’s seen me before, but he plows on, looking a little bit like a deer in headlights.
“So. Um. Dara. Nice to meet you. Um.” He checks the info sheet and asks me one of the suggested questions from it. “Are you a morning person, or a night owl?”
I’m disappointed that he’s not as interesting in person, but not surprised, either. “Neither one, really. You?”
He looks away and sighs, and I don’t think it’s feigned. “I barely notice what time it is. It’s why I was late tonight.”
“Ah,” I say, but he keeps talking, scratching at the table with his fingernail.
“And I didn’t actually know I was coming to this thing,” he says apologetically. “My research assistants signed me up for it. They’re sick of me forgetting to eat, and coming in with socks that don’t match.”
My brain pings. “Research assistants? Do you have a lab or something?”
He nods, still not looking at me. “Well, not mine. It’s the university’s. We’re working on something big.”
Hmm. “Physics lab? Chemistry? Are you a professor?”
He startles, and looks up into my face. “Chemistry. How did you know?”
“I didn’t.” But now I’m interested. This could be a story, if it’s really something big going on at the university. “So what are you researching?”
He gets animated as he talks about his research project. Most of it goes over my head, but I make a guess. “Does that mean you’re on track to revolutionize water-treatment plants?”
“Yeah, pretty exciting stuff! It could be a real game-changer for sanitation in underdeveloped countries, especially where there isn’t enough water,” he says, leaning my way.
Our gazes catch and hold, and we stare at each other, not talking. It’s hard to breathe. I don’t know where this even came from, but my body is alive in all the good sexy ways—nipples tight, panties damp.
Talk about chemistry.
The buzzer goes off, and he looks like somebody just yanked out his batteries. In fact, he sags against the table. “Dammit. I blew this, didn’t I? I didn’t even learn anything about you.”
“It’s nice to see somebody so passionate about their work,” I say. Nice? It’s actually hot.
“Oh,” he says, and stands up. “Sure. Thanks. Nice to meet you.”
Awkward.
But sort of cute-awkward.
He smiles, and suddenly he looks adorably young. “I’m sorry to waste your time talking shop. Forgive me.” He goes on to the next girl, and I’m a little embarrassed to say that he looks more comfortable with her.
Against my better judgment, I check the YES box.
God knows why.
It winds up being the only time I say yes this evening.
I don’t stay for the post-event social time. I’m too discouraged. And I’m second-guessing myself on checking the box for the hot awkward professor.
Even if he gives good eye-fuck.
