"See anything you like?" His deep voice jars me, again, from staring. I flush. This is really unlike me. I had meant to follow Dr. Jacobs…Matt…to his office hours, but here I am standing next to Talon and his damn crutches. Talon winks at me.
Gross. I start wondering how many girls he's tried that on before. But then he winces, and I'm reminded that he's actually injured.
"Are you in a lot of pain," I ask, gesturing toward his knee.
He stares into the distance. I think for a moment he's going to crack another joke, but he looks down at me again and says, "It doesn't feel awesome, I'll give you that."
He crutches away and I watch him go, forgetting about my big plans to cozy up with my stats professor
CHAPTER TWO
I'm pretty irritated when the Claw saunters into class late again the next session. Matt just smiles and waves him in, but come on! Can't he get one of the football staff to drive him around in a golf cart or something so he isn't interrupting the rest of us?
Once again, he limps up to the desk behind me. Once again, he sprawls out so that his foot is under my seat and his crutches snag the straps of my backpack. I whip around in my seat and shoot him daggers with my eyes. Talon winks at me again, infuriating me. I'm about to tell him off when Matt begins class.
"All right, folks. Here comes your least favorite part of the semester. Research projects." There is a collective groan and Matt holds out his hands. "With partners. I know, I know. It's awful. But this is life." As people begin to complain, Matt continues. "There isn't a career in statistics that will not involve collaborative research. And there isn't a research project you'll encounter in life where you won't want to fire someone on your project team."
Matt pulls out a jar of slips of paper. He makes a joke about the odds being in our favor, and starts to pull out pairs of names. I don't recognize anyone in this class, so I can't do anything other than calculate the probability of my being partnered with Talon…until I hear him call my name. "Serena Sanders?" I raise my hand. He nods. "Let's see. You'll be working with…" there's a pause as he rummages in his jar of names. And of course, he says, "Talon Kelly. Well, you're already sitting near each other, so at least you don't have to move!"
A few minutes later, the pairs are assigned and we are turned loose to exchange contact information and make a plan for the research project. I sigh and start smoothing out my hair. It's long and straight, and I usually keep it back in a ponytail while I'm working, but today I wore it down. I wanted to look my best, so I actually blew it dry this morning.
I realize how stupid that is, to get all dolled up for my stats professor, but I can't help it. I'm totally starstruck. I sigh and scoop up my notebook, turning around to face Talon, who is still sitting sprawled in his chair, bulging arms crossed across his chest that seems to be bursting out of his tight SCU t-shirt.
Neither of us says anything for a bit, but eventually he says, "you going to give me your phone number? Invite me back to your place to research, baby?" He winks.
"Jesus, Talon. Does this crap actually work for you? You think I'm going to sleep with you and then do the entire research project myself?"
He laughs. "I know you're going to sleep with me, baby. I've seen you looking at the Claw."
I start stuffing my books back into my bag and huff at him. "You're referring to yourself in the third person now, is that it? Of course I'm looking at you, Talon. You're limping around like the bionic man. You don't exactly blend in."
He reaches out for my arm, his fingertips surprisingly soft on my skin below my own SCU t-shirt. "All right, all right. I'll grant you that. Hey. Why do you look familiar?" He furrows his brow while he looks at me. "Did we already sleep together? Is that it? Is that why you're so huffy?"
"You are absolutely disgusting, Talon Kelly. No. I have not slept with you." I rip a sheet out of my notebook and write down my cell number and email address, and slam it into his chest. "Get in touch when you're ready to get serious about this project. This class is important to me."
He chuckles softly and looks at my info. I hate that I keep staring at the blond-streaked curls sticking out from his backward ball-cap. His hair grows in tight ringlets that I've seen on the jumbo-tron, stuck to his forehead with sweat when he pulls his helmet off during games. I remind myself that nobody that good looking is ever going to be a kind person. I storm out of class before it's over.
I'm halfway back to my apartment before I realize I've missed the discussion and homework assignments.
CHAPTER THREE
My roommate, Alissa, is home on a break between classes when I stomp through the front door. "Bad day with Professor Dreamy?" she laughs, pulling a bowl of mac n' cheese from the microwave.
"Lis, I left before I even got to hear Professor Dreamy lecture today!"
"Woah, girl, what the hell happened?"
I tell her about being partnered with Talon, about his lame pickup lines. She
