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The janitor gives a short nod and mumbles something about kids playing pranks as he walks back out of the library. While I retrieve my blazer from the stacks, Zack picks up the quarters and coffee mug from our game.
With the library back to how we found it—or mostly back in order—we stare at each other for long moments. For one of the first times in my life, I’m at a loss for words.
Zack clears his throat. “Are you bringing anyone to the reunion party tonight?”
I blink, startled by the question. “No. I mean, I told my assistant she could come, because she did so much work on it. But no, I’m not bringing a date.”
I really hope that doesn’t sound pathetic. Then again, we were just making out. Oh, God. What if he was planning on bringing someone tonight? What if he has a girlfriend? I keep tabs on his social media and Google alerts, of course, but that doesn’t mean I always know how serious he is with the women he’s photographed alongside.
“Good.” He takes a step closer to me. “Would you like to have a date?”
My belly clenches. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”
“How about I pick you up at 6:30?”
An influx of joy flows through me. “Maybe you should make it 6. In case there are any last-minute things to do. Table arrangements to fix. Bar tabs to open.”
“Good call.” He leans forward and brushes his lips over my forehead. I nearly pool into a puddle at his feet. “It’s a date then.”
NINE
SAMANTHA
When I step out of the hotel, I still can’t quite believe Zack is waiting for me. Waiting to take me to our ten-year class reunion. As his date.
With the way he’s dressed in a suit, complete with polished shoes, and leaning against his shiny black Mercedes, it looks more like he’s taking me to the prom than our reunion.
Still, a date is a date. And he’s mine for the night. Barely twenty-four hours after his mere presence felt more like torture than temptation.
As I approach him, Zack’s lips part and he gives me a slow once-over. I can practically feel the heat of his stare as it roves over every inch of me from head to toe.
“Looking good, Ms. Wingfield.”
A tingle runs up and down my spine, and I shiver.
“Sorry, it must be a little chilly out here.” He pushes away from the car and presses his palm to my lower back, sending fresh shivers through me. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t get Cinderella to the ball on time.”
He opens the car door and helps me in. Chivalry from Zack Strovers. I never would have expected that. Then again, I wouldn’t have expected most of this.
After he settles in the driver’s seat and buckles up, Zack reaches for my hand. I flinch a little out of habit.
“Is this okay?” He rubs his thumb over the pulse on my wrist.
“Yeah.” The single word comes out breathy.
“Are you sure? Because it seemed like you—”
“I was just surprised.” I shift my body slightly so my legs and body are facing more toward him. “Every time I think I have you figured out, you do something so unexpected.”
“Good. I’ve been trying to catch you off guard for years now.”
“Well, your practice is paying off.”
He smirks at that.
We arrive at the school in almost no time at all. He casts me a sidelong glance.
“Back to the scene of the crime.” His brows knit together. “No, that’s not quite right. What was it Mr. Matthews used to say to us before our Model UN events?”
