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“Yeah, actually. It’s a worth a stop if you’re out shopping today.”
Jessica hummed to herself, squinting as she peered in the windows. “Cute shopkeeper. Is he a friend of yours?”
“I think so,” I said, considering. “He thinks we are, at least.”
“He’s a strange man.” Whitney grinned. “Bill’s his name. You’d like him, Jess. He’s quirky and interesting.”
“Well... All right, sold. I’ll catch up with you guys later. Hey, Professor?”
“Yeah?” I could help but chuckle under my breath as Jessica squared her shoulders and glanced between me and Whitney.
“We’re obviously your favorite students. How about you take it easy on us during midterms?”
“Bye, Jess!” Whitney rolled her eyes to mine and turned, and to my surprise, I felt her fingers clutch the sleeve of my jacket, dragging me with her.
Jessica disappeared into the shop.
“What’s in the box?”
“Books.” I stopped and opened it for her. “For next semester. I’m going to start putting together a new curriculum for my undergrad philosophy classes over fall break.”
She stood on her tiptoes to peer inside. “Do you think Bill is into anything... illegal?”
“Oh, of course.”
She smiled up at me, and I smiled back, feeling that familiar warmth in my chest.
“You seem different today,” I said, closing the cardboard folds while keeping in step with her.
“Me?” Her cheeks, the only thing that ever gave away her emotions, brightened to a soft rose color. “I just had a good day so far, I guess. I haven’t been studying. In fact, those are the only books I’ve seen all day long.”
“It’s good to take a break from time to time.”
“I normally wouldn’t agree to that kind of statement, but after today, I believe you’re right.”
She stopped right before the entrance to the trails, and her warm, somewhat aloof expression shattered. “You know, I’m not quite done in town.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll see you later then—”
“Can I look through those books?”
I shifted the weight of the box in my hands. “Right now?”
“Yes.” She seemed suddenly frantic not to go back to campus.
Those nagging, conflicting thoughts came rushing back as I nodded and followed her back onto the street, past Bill’s shop and into a tea shop I’d never been into before. It was quiet and smelled strongly of herbs. The walls were a deep emerald green, and several small bistro tables created a maze up to the counter. She walked ahead of me while I found a table and started unpacking the half dozen or so books from the box.
“They had English breakfast tea,” she said playfully, setting a mug of steaming hot tea in front of me. “Cream and sugar if you like it.”
“Thanks,” I said, and meant it.
I watched her pour a copious amount of cream and sugar into her own tea before she sat down and brought it to her lips, blowing gently. Steam coiled over her face and eyelashes as she took a careful sip.
“Do you even like tea?” I hadn’t meant the teasing tone in my voice, but she looked up from her tea with a smirk.
“I do, but I don’t drink it often. Do you even like coffee, or is that an American thing?”
“The amount of coffee Americans drink is criminal.” I sat down across from her and pulled the sugar bowl toward me, dropping a single cube into my tea. “But I do like coffee. Good coffee, not the stuff served in the shop at the cafeteria.”
