Easy

a bed and breakfast for the weekend. Erin told Maggie and me about it last month while we waited to look at Mercury and Venus through a telescope during an evening astronomy lab.
    “A bed and breakfast? ” Maggie arched a brow. “What’s next, monogrammed towels?”
    Erin scowled. “It’s romantic!”
    “Exactly,” Maggie laughed. “And you’re going with Chaz . How’d you even talk Mr. Sports Stats into that, anyway?”
    Erin’s full lips made a prim little bow and she combed a hand through hair so red I could tell its color even while standing in this dark field on the outskirts of town. “I told him that bed-and-breakfasts have ginormous whirlpool tubs, and that I’d be willing to do unspeakably sinful things to him in it.”
    A strangled sound came from one of the two nerdy guys behind us in line, both wearing tortured expressions and staring at Erin. We stifled laughs.
    Maggie sighed. “Poor Chaz. He never had a chance… he’s gonna be standing in front of a bunch of people saying ‘I do’ someday without knowing how it happened.”
    “Ugh! I don’t think so. When it’s time to settle down, I’m getting somebody like…” Erin looked over her shoulder at the eavesdroppers behind us, “like one of them.”
    The boys looked at each other and stood up a little straighter. With a smirk in Erin’s direction, one of them fist-bumped the other.

    ***
    I doubted Erin would give me a second thought during her romantic weekend. I was on my own. I deliberated, finally turning toward the student union while pulling my jacket tighter against the sudden November chill. Frat parties held this weekend wouldn’t be open-window, not that I’d know firsthand. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere Kennedy might be. Or Buck.
    The coffee smell invaded my senses before the Starbucks came into view. Rounding the corner, my eyes went to the counter, where two employees stood talking. When I didn’t see Lucas, I wondered if he’d switched shifts and forgot to text me.
    There were only a handful of customers—one of whom was Dr. Heller, reading the paper in the corner. I had nothing against my professor, but I didn’t exactly want him witnessing my attempts to flirt with the guy who skipped the quiz and got called out for it just this morning. I stood just behind a display of coffee mugs and travel cups.
    Just as he had Monday, Lucas pushed through the door to the back as my eyes brushed over it. My fingers and toes tingled at the sight of him. Underneath the green apron, he wore a close-fitting light blue t-shirt, long-sleeved, not the university-branded sweatshirt he’d worn this morning in class. His shirtsleeves were pushed past his elbows again, leaving the tattoos visible. I moved to the counter, my eyes skimming from his forearms to his face. He hadn’t seen me yet.
    One of the girls at the register straightened. “Can I help you?” Her voice held a bite of annoyance, as though she was snapping her fingers to get my attention.
    “I’ve got it, Eve,” Lucas said, and she shrugged and returned to her conversation with her coworker, but they both eyed me with even more hostility than a moment before. “Hey, Jacqueline.”
    “Hi.”
    He glanced toward the corner where Dr. Heller sat. “What can I get for you?”
    His tone wasn’t the tone of a guy who’d specifically asked me to come by. Maybe he was behaving circumspectly for his coworkers’ benefit.
    “Um, a grande Americano, I guess.”
    He grabbed the cup from the stack and made the drink. I tried to hand him my card, but he shook his head once. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
    His coworkers exchanged a look I pretended not to see.
    I thanked him and retreated to the opposite side of the shop from Dr. Heller, setting up my laptop to work on my econ project. I had to glean information from multiple sources to defend the position my research paper was taking. It was due before Thanksgiving break, less than two weeks away.
    If I never had to make up another midterm, it would be too soon.
    After an hour, I’d bookmarked a dozen sources on current international economic happenings, my coffee was gone, and Lucas hadn’t come over once. I was expected at the high school for my weekly Friday afternoon bass lessons in half an hour. Shutting down my laptop, I turned to unplug the power cord from the wall.
    “Ms. Wallace.” At Dr. Heller’s unexpected greeting, I jumped, knocking over my thankfully-empty cup. “Oh! So sorry to