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Silence falls over the lecture hall as Professor Naveri steps up to the podium to introduce the speaker.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for coming. Unfortunately, our afternoon speaker had to cancel, but we were fortunate enough to secure Mr. Evan Kohl, founder and CEO of XVerse Space Technologies, as a last-minute replacement.”
My pen freezes mid-stroke, hovering inches above the blank page. Everything goes out of focus for a millisecond, and I can feel the blood drain from my face.
Did he just say Evan Kohl?
Chapter 4
Perk N’ Grind
The lecture hall erupts into enthusiastic applause as I struggle to understand what the fuck Evan Kohl is doing here without previous announcement or fanfare. Professor Naveri goes on to list Kohl’s numerous accomplishments, but I’m too shocked to hear anything but the frantic beat of my own heart.
My eyes dart to the exits, which are too far away. If I try to run for it, everyone would see me, including Kohl. I’m trapped. I slide down into my wooden seat and pray he doesn’t see me, instead.
Evan Kohl takes the podium, looking every bit as gorgeous as I remember. He’s wearing a designer suit and crisp, white shirt to contrast his dark hair. And an aquamarine tie that matches the color of his eyes. Holy crap. It should be illegal to be that good-looking.
His eyes coolly scan the audience of the lecture hall—some two hundred undergraduates or so—before resting on me. For one heartbeat, two, I freeze, unable to do even the most basic thing I want to do—look away. I’m frozen like an animal in the sights of its most feared predator. I register recognition on his features but no other emotion. He doesn’t smile, frown, or scowl. And he most definitely does not appear as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
Has he come here to see me? But just as the thought forms, I snicker at myself for even considering it. There’s no way he’d even know which classes I take. Not to mention that the idea of him coming all this way to see me is more than a little ridiculous. Kohl is revered on this campus and they’d jump at a chance to take him as a lecturer.
I jerk my eyes away from him and stare at the blank page in front of me and for lack of anything better to do, press my pen against the paper and begin doodling in an effort to appear deeply interested in whatever I’m doing. I’m most certainly not breathing quickly, fighting the tightness in my throat and my palms are most definitely not sweaty. Not after I rub them across my jeans, anyway.
When I look up again, he’s speaking, projecting toward the back of the hall and falling easily into an interesting presentation about the innovation of the rotating detonation rocket engine that will allow upper-stage rockets to become lighter, faster and more efficient.
I can’t help but scribble down some notes. It doesn’t matter that the guy who’s speaking is a scumbag who screens women and sets them up in a fuckpad for his own personal use. He’s still one of the most brilliant and innovative minds working in the field today.
And…he is fucking hot, I’ll admit. Like…wet panties hot.
My eyes wander up to him, finally, after he’s been speaking for about ten minutes, engaging the crowd, asking questions, advancing slides, even making a few jokes. He’s at ease in front of large groups of people, pausing for effect, smiling and revealing those perfect, white teeth. I clamp down on my jaw and cross my legs. The movement catches his eye and he turns his gaze back to me again. And…
I can’t breathe. Suddenly, it’s an almost impossible task to accomplish. Heat floods through me, pooling at the base of my spine and at the juncture of my thighs. I squeeze my legs together tighter, and a jolt of pleasure zings through me. The look we share is like a thing alive, like a physical connection. Though I don’t know him well, I think I imagine some discomfort in his expression as that string of tension between us is pulled taut to almost breaking.
He finally yanks his eyes away, clears his throat and continues. I never look down again, but his eyes avoid mine. I find myself watching his every move, every tick, every adjustment of his posture. He studiously moves his eyes everywhere but in my direction as he continues to take questions from the audience.
When the session ends, I quickly gather up my notebook and pen, then glance at my phone to check the time. I have to be at work in less than ten minutes. People are pouring down the steps to make their way out the main entrance, where Kohl is standing shaking hands with students as they exit. There is no way I’m walking that close to him and shaking his hand. But it appears unavoidable for anyone going out that main door.
So I do what any ingenious student avoiding the unreasonably handsome guest lecturer whom she’d met under the most embarrassing of circumstances would do. I bolt the opposite way, up the steps of the lecture hall and shoot one glance down toward the bottom doorway.
His gaze collides with mine, narrowing slightly as he notes my escape.
I smirk and head out the back door, feeling cheeky. I’ve outsmarted one of the most brilliant minds of our time.
I make a beeline straight to the Perk N’ Grind. It’s a small campus, so everything is within five minutes’ walking distance. Breezing through the back door, I clock in and pull on my familiar red apron.
There is a long line waiting for me. As it’s between classes and the biggest study week of the semester, caffeine is in high demand. Three o’clock isn’t usually the busy shift any other time of the year.
Keith moves aside, relinquishing the cash register so I can relieve him. “You’re in luck,” he quips. “It just got hella busy.”
“Great.” I sigh.
He laughs, then winks at me. “Have fun.”
As soon as he is out of hearing range, Sam sidles up to me. “Keith’s still totally into you, I see,” she whispers. I shoot her a glare but don’t respond. The guy in front of me is already rattling off his order.
Fifteen minutes later, we have the line under control. I’m steaming milk for a double latte, when Sam reaches over and grabs my wrist. Milk sloshes over the lip of the metal frothing pitcher. “Sam—” I snap, annoyed, wiping up the spilled milk.
“Oh, my God,” she hisses. “Don’t look now, but he’s here.”
