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"Lucky."
Katie disagreed. She'd done a pretty good job putting him behind her the last few days. And had gotten a damn good start on her project as a result. Now—seeing him again—reminded of what she'd walked away from—knowing that she had to again... She'd have to start the process of forgetting him all over again.
Her phone buzzed. The ten-minute reminder for Professor Poopface's class popped up on the screen.
Thank you, Past Katie.
"Sorry." She waved the phone at him. "I'm going to be late."
She walked around him thinking that was the end of it when broad, callused fingers grazed her forearm. "Wait."
It wasn't fair what his voice did to her. How it sent a shiver down her spine and melted her middle at the same time.
Though she shouldn't have, Katie stopped.
"I want to see you again.” His fingers slid down her arm, into her palm. He held her hand.
More shivers.
She had to go. She had to tell him no. So why wouldn't the words come out?
"I'll be at the coffee shop in the morning," he said. "Eight o'clock."
"I have to go."
"Tell me you'll be there." It wasn't so much a plea as it was a matter of fact. Laced with the sincerity she'd seen in his eye and heard in his voice when he asked her to stay with him the other night.
Her phone, gripped in her other hand, buzzed again.
Five-minute warning.
"I'm sorry. I have plans. Dating isn't one of them."
Her hand slid easily from his grip as she took off running for her class. Around the block, out of his sight, she slowed to nurse the hitch in her side and wipe the tears from her cheeks.
I'm such a bitch.
She'd tried not to notice the pain that had darkened his eyes before she pulled away. But it had happened so quickly, she couldn't look away fast enough.
Go back.
She looked over her shoulder. Part of her hoping he would be there knowing she’d fucked up and wanting to give her another chance. A third chance she didn't deserve. A chance she couldn't take.
Get it together.You did the right thing.
Ending it before it began was the right thing now as much as it had been the other night. Her plans hadn't changed, so neither could her feelings about relationships.
Katie took a deep breath. The stitch in her side calmed with the steady flow of oxygen.
Stick to the plan, Katie.
Phone buzzing the final alarm in her palm, Katie walked into Professor Poopface's class.
"Nice of you to join us, Ms. Fosberg."
Katie slumped, defeated, into her seat. Why did he care so much if she even showed up? He got paid either way.
While her professor started the lecture, Katie stared at an empty text box wondering if she should tell Amber what just happened. She didn't have time for this any more than she had time for coffee with Muscles. What was she doing? All these emotions were seriously fucking things up. And now she was missing her lecture.
