Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
I wait for her to take a couple more steps before I start walking. She must be new here. She has to be because I would never have forgotten seeing her, let alone meeting her. I fix the strap of my bag over my shoulder, my tongue itching to ask her what her name is. My head screams at me to just ask her. What’s the worst that can happen? My eyes are on her ass as she walks in front of me, and there is nothing that isn’t perfect on her.
I turn right at the hall, and I’m shocked when I see her hand opening the door to the class.
She stops in front of me, and it’s a good thing I’m paying attention. "Are you following me?"
I’m shocked she is in my class, and then I’m stunned she is blocking the doorway, and I can't even form words to answer her question. "Um," I stutter, my tongue so dry in my mouth. "No," I finally say, and I can see the twinkle in her eyes as she laughs. "You’re trouble." That just makes her laugh more, and even her fucking laughter is perfect.
"You have no idea." She winks at me and walks into the class, and I follow her.
Five rows of seats face the whiteboard in front of the class. "Excuse me," a guy says, walking past me. I have no idea why, but I move just a touch faster than he does. I watch her take a seat in the third row and the fourth seat in. She places her travel cup in the middle of the desk.
I walk behind her and sit down in the second seat. She puts her bag on the floor, takes out her laptop, and opens it. She turns toward me and catches me watching her. "That’s not creepy at all." She laughs, and it’s as if all the words have been taken out of me. I remember nothing at all, and if I wasn’t mortified, I would actually laugh. "So, Romeo," she says as people start coming into the class. Everyone is pretty much dragging their feet. "Do we have a name?"
"My name?" I ask, pointing at myself.
"Well, considering you followed me all morning long," she teases, and I laugh, and I can feel the little nerves leaving me.
"It’s not even eight in the morning." I look at my watch. "So all morning long is a stretch." She turns in her seat to look at me. "More along the lines of at least five minutes," I say, finally able to find words. "I’m Travis." I lean over the desk and hold out my hand.
She slips her hand in mine and smiles. "Nice to meet you, Travis." The smile fills her face again.
"Do you have a name?" I ask when she lets go of my hand, and I turn, putting my arm over the back of the seat between us.
"I do," she says, her voice soft. "It’s Harlow." She smiles and takes a sip of her coffee. I’m about to ask her if she is new here when the door to the room slams shut, and we both look forward as the professor starts the class.
I turn my head to the front, grabbing my own laptop and opening it to take notes. During the whole class, I’m half focused, and she catches me every time I look over at her and gives me a soft smile, making my palms all fucking sweaty. When the class ends, I put my laptop away and get up, trying to make it seem like I’m not waiting for her, but in reality, I’m trying to get the courage to ask her to go for coffee.
Walking as slow as a turtle, I look over and see that she’s on her phone typing something. I’m about to go to her when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Taking it out, I see it’s my mother. I think about sending it to voice mail, but looking back down at the phone, I press the green button as I walk out of the class. "Hello," I greet, putting it to my ear.
"Well, at least I have one child who answers my call." My mother's voice comes out dramatically, and I have to laugh. Ever since she lost my dad six months ago, she’s been on a never-ending level of needy. But then, when you try to do something for her, she gets angry and says she is independent. Giving a whole new meaning to damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
"Good morning, Mom." I look back at the door and then proceed to walk ever so slowly out of the building, hoping I can catch her again. "What happened?"
"You know me, Travis," she starts. "I’m not one to complain." I can’t help but laugh.