“You’re bruising me here, beautiful. Did that nope mean I’m not your type?”
“Exactly.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m sure a…ego of your size can handle it.”
I’m grinning again, but she can’t see it because she’s practically running from me. “I’m not so sure, it’s leading me in the direction away from class.”
“Better switch lanes then, don’t want to be late,” she says breathlessly.
“What if you’re wrong?” I ask, fully interested. She’s gorgeous, smells amazing, and her deep twang is alluring. Interest piqued, I decide she could be just the distraction I’m looking for. I can’t remember the last time I went on a real date. And from the way she’s avoiding me, it’s easy to tell she’s been burned. She’s wary of me, and for some reason that’s my new catnip. Maybe this girl is the place to start.
“What if I’m right?”
Flustered, she brings her eyes to mine. Recognition, attraction, it all passes between us before she scrambles to pull her phone from her purse and takes a fake call. She’s avoiding me. It’s the same type of Clarissa rejection all over again.
Interesting.
“Sorry, I gotta take this,” she says, her eyes drinking me in once again, and I do the same, regretfully taking her hint.
“Shame,” I say before giving her freedom, for now, because after the class I’m now late for, and my nap, I have a date with my son.
I tap lightly on Clarissa’s door. “Are you decent? Dante said you wanted to see me?”
“I’m dressed.”
From the doorway, I poke my head in and see she’s sitting at a small vanity in the corner of her bedroom.
“Nice room.”
“Thanks. Come in, have a seat.” I take a seat on the bed as she lines her lips in hot pink. Her dress is a deep turquoise, the front dipping low accentuating her mouth-watering cleavage while the rest of it hugs her curves.
“You look beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Her tone is dry, and instead of letting it deter me, I use this chance alone with her to try to bridge the gap between us. She’s refusing to let me in. Her smiles are mostly forced, but she’s always polite. Though I’m the last man she’d consider for a relationship, I’m determined a friendship is possible. It’s what’s best for all of us, but I can’t seem to find an in.
“I mean that. You really are beautiful.”
“I appreciate the compliment.”
I shake my head. “Always so formal. Are you ever going to let me—”
“Dante has another ear infection. He’s been prone to them since he was a baby. At one point, we thought we were going to have to get him tubes because he had them so often.”
She reads my concern in the reflection of the mirror.
“He’s fine,” she says, fastening an earring. “They’re less frequent now, and his hearing is perfect.”
“Tell me more.”
“More?” She draws her brows. “His drops—”
“I can read the directions on the medicine. Tell me more about what he was like as a baby.”
“Oh, he was a living doll,” she says fondly. He came out so small but got really fat when I breastfed.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “He had rolls on his rolls.”