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This one is the scariest of them all. He’s large and intimidating and handsome and good lord, who allowed a man to smell this good?
“How can I help you?” I ask, shifting into serious customer-service mode.
He scratches his temple, like he’s confused, which is still a good look for him. “I need one of those fancy-ass calculators, and I heard you guys still have a few in stock.”
“You’re right. We do.” I tilt my head, contemplating him. “You can just order it on Amazon, you know? For a lot cheaper price.”
“You turning away business?” He lifts his brows.
“Just being truthful.” I shrug. “And if you have Prime, you should get it fairly fast.”
“Yeah, I’ve got Amazon Prime or whatever, but I uh, need the calculator today.” He rubs the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed. “Class is in two hours. I’m not even close to ready, and the teacher is kind of a hard-ass.”
I have a sneaking suspicion who his professor might be and he’s right: she’s a total hard ass.
“Let me show you where they are.” I wave a hand at him to follow, and he falls into step, trailing behind me as I lead him to the other side of the store, where a display of various calculators is located. Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that he’s not scary. Not in the least.
I don’t know why they intimidate me. The football players. Maybe because they’re larger than life? And that sort of thing has always made me want to retreat. I don’t like loud or obnoxious people. They put off an energy I find really…draining. And here’s where I need to get real.
They remind me of my father. Not my stepdad, who’s been the steady male presence in my life the last fifteen years, but my real father. The one who bailed on us and never really bothered trying to see me, especially when I was younger and missing him.
Despite how great Jerry is and how present he’s been in my life, I still feel like there’s a hole in my heart my father used to occupy. I know I shouldn’t miss him but…
I still do.
He was an athlete. A show-off. A bragger. A car salesman even, though there’s nothing wrong with guys who sell cars. My father’s problem? He wanted everyone to pay attention to him, including women.
Especially women.
Guys like him. Guys like Knox Maguire, they revel in that. Female adoration.
And I refuse to fall into that trap. My mother did, and she always told me it was one of the biggest regrets of her life.
“Not that I regret having you, sweetie,” she always reassures me. “I just wish it hadn’t been with your sperm donor.”
She can barely call him my father, which I get.
I do.
My gaze returns to Knox as he wanders around the bookstore, sucking up all the oxygen in the building despite its spacious size. Just having him close is making it hard for me to breathe, and I swear I’m not the type to be starstruck.
Yet, here he is, dazzling me with his mere presence.
It’s not like he’s an actual celebrity, though he’s treated like one on campus. Plus, it’s his senior year. This is his last hurrah before he’s out of here for good. He surely wants to go out on top.
He’ll probably do whatever it takes to make that happen.
“Here you go.” I stop in front of the more elaborate calculators. The very expensive ones I’m sure he needs. “What class is this for?”
“Statistics.” He takes a step forward, grabbing one of the packaged calculators with his large hand and peering at it. His brows shoot up. “Two hundred bucks?”
“I recommended Amazon, remember?” I shrug.
His gaze meets mine, then drifts downward. Like he’s checking me out.
What? Why?
“You did,” he finally says, his gaze returning to the calculator. “But I don’t have a choice. I’ll take it.”
