The Initiation

Chapter Eight

 I opened my eyes and instantly felt my face heat up. Chewing furiously, I stared up at Gavin Montrose as he casually leaned against the back of the seat on the opposite side of the booth.

 Swallowing, I nodded and said, “It is good.”

 He sat down without me inviting him and reached over to take one of my fries. I scowled at him, but he just grinned and popped it into his mouth.

 “These are tasty, too,” he said, reaching over for another one.

 I slapped his hand before it could touch my fries and told him, “Get your own.”

 “Good idea,” he said, then looked toward the server and raised his hand. 

 When the server came over, he pointed to my plate and said, “I’ll take one of those.”

The server looked at me with a questioning look. I sighed and nodded.

 “Yes, sir,” the server told him. “I’ll be back with that in a moment.”

 Turning back to me, Gavin asked, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing eating alone in this cafe?”

 I picked up my book and said, “Trying to read in peace.”

 He chuckled and leaned back against the seat, throwing his arm over the back of it as he settled in, not getting the hint.

 Sighing, I set my book back down. 

 “So, what are you doing here?” I asked. “Looking to bother single girls who aren’t interested in you?”

 Grinning at me, he leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table. 

 “No, I don’t think you are uninterested,” he said, looking me over as I shoved a French fry into my mouth. “I think you are interested, but trying to hide it from me.”

 Rolling my eyes, I chewed on my fry and swallowed. 

 I picked up my cup and took a sip to wash it down before saying, “Now, why would I want to hide my interest in you, as you so put it?”

 “You’ve got me,” he said, shrugging.

 Then, giving me a saucy grin, he said, “No, really. You can have me if you want.”

 Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes again and tried to hide my grin.

 He noticed as he leaned forward and pointed a finger at me.

 “Is that a smile I see you trying to hide?” he asked. 

 Shaking my head, I took another bite out of my sandwich.

 “I like to see a woman with a healthy appetite,” he said, nodding at me.

 I rolled my eyes for the third time as I chewed. 

 Once I’d swallowed my food, I told him, “You know, that’s really not as good a compliment as you think it is.”

 Before he could say anything, the server came by with his plate of food and set it down in front of him. 

 “Can I get you anything else?” he asked us. 

 We both shook our heads, and the server left us to eat. 

 Gavin picked up a fry and held it out to me.

 “What are you doing?” I asked him, my lip raised on one side and my eyebrows scrunched up.

 Wiggling the fry, he said, “I took one of yours, so you get one of mine.”

 “That’s okay,” I told him. “You can keep it.”

 “I insist,” he said, wiggling it harder at me.

 Trying not to laugh at the flopping French fry, I reached out for it. He pulled it back and shook his head.

 “Open your mouth,” he said, holding the fry up.

 “What?” 

 “You heard me,” he said, grinning. “Open your mouth.”

 Staring at him for a moment as he held the French fry out at me, I sighed and leaned forward, opening my mouth just enough for him to slide the French fry in between my lips. I bit down, just missing his fingers. He pulled his hand back with a startled look on his face.

 “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?” he asked, looking at me with narrowed eyes. 

 Grinning at him, I chewed the fry and swallowed as I wiggled my eyebrows at him.

 Shaking his head, he picked up his sandwich and took a bite out of it. 

 After he chewed for a moment, a look of surprise crossed his face, and he asked, “You ordered a rare sandwich? I wasn’t aware of that.”

 “You don’t like rare meat?” I asked, my sandwich halfway to my mouth.

 He nodded and said, “I do, but you didn’t strike me as the type who did.”

 Tilting my head as I chewed, I swallowed, then said, “I never used to, but it sounded really good tonight.”

 He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face, and picked up a fry to eat it. 

 “Strange how our cravings change as we grow older, isn’t it?” he asked, staring at me. 

 I nodded, taking another bite of the sandwich. 

 After I swallowed, I took a drink of soda, then asked him, “So, what’s a guy like you doing in a cafe like this?”

 He shrugged and said, “Honestly, I was walking by and saw you in the window. Suddenly, I realized I was hungry, so I came in to join you.”

 My eyes narrowed at him. Then I glanced out of the window. I could see the people walking by, so I assumed they could see me. What he said made sense.

 “So, what do you think of Professor White’s class so far?” I asked, picking up a French fry and biting into it. 

 He snorted, then took a drink of his soda. 

 Grimacing, he put it down and asked, “Diet?”

 Nodding, I grinned at him and said, “You told the server you wanted what I was having, and I’m having diet soda.”

 His nose still wrinkled, he said, “I guess I can choke it down.”

 Chuckling, I asked again, “About Professor White’s class. What do you think?”

 He shrugged and said, “It’s okay, I guess. I was only in it for the first time today, so I don’t have much to go off of.”

 I studied him and said, “You don’t look like the type who would be interested in myths and folktales.”

 He studied me right back, then asked, “What makes you think you know my type?”

 Smirking at him, I said, “You’re pretty obvious.”

 “Am I?” he asked, setting his sandwich back down and looking at me with a serious look. “What do I look like to you?”

 Taking a drink, I studied him over the rim of my glass. 

 Then I said, “You look like the type who would sail through their classes on their good looks and not worry about their grades.”

 He perked up at this and asked, “You think I’m good-looking?”

 Rolling my eyes yet again, I said, “You absolutely know you are.”

 Holding up his index finger, he wagged it at me and said, “That doesn’t answer my question. Do you think I’m good-looking?”

 Sighing, I said, “Of course you’re good-looking! I mean, look at that table of college girls across the room. They can’t keep their eyes off of you!”

 “I don’t care about them,” he said, leaning forward and reaching over to touch my hand. “I care about what you think.”

 “Why?” I asked, debating on whether to pull my hand away or continue to let him touch it. 

 Smirking, he said, “Because I think you’re good-looking, too.”

 I threw back my head and laughed. 

 “You can’t be serious,” I said when I finally calmed down. “You really think I’m attractive?”

 Nodding, he said, “Only I wouldn’t phrase it that way. I’d say you were more beautiful, more breath-taking.”

 Pausing, he added, nodding toward another table toward the back of the room, “And I’m not the only one. That table of frat boys hasn’t taken their eyes off of you since I came over here.”

 “They’re probably wondering what a good-looking guy like you sees in a little nobody like me,” I muttered, fighting the urge to turn around and look where he’d nodded. 

 Shaking his head, he said, “Don’t sell yourself short, Suzie. You are an attractive woman. I can’t believe you don’t see that.”

 Smiling at him, I shook my head and withdrew my hand. Picking up my sandwich, I took another bite, then chewed as I watched him. He sighed and picked up his drink to take a sip, trying to hide the grimace as he tasted the diet soda.

 Swallowing, I laughed and said, “You know, you could always ask for another soda.”

 “And miss out on the delightful drink that is diet?” he said, setting the glass back down. “I don’t think so.”

 Shaking my head, I said, “Suit yourself and suffer, then.”

 “For being able to sit with you, suffering is bliss,” he said, deliberately taking another sip.

 I laughed despite myself and shook my head again. 

 He nodded at the book I’d set aside, cover face down, and asked, “What were you reading when I came up?”

 I looked down at my book and felt my face warm up again. 

 “It’s the latest Jerri Fuller book,” I told him, picking it up and showing it to him. 

 His face lit up, and he wiped his fingers on his napkin before reaching for it.

 He stopped just short of taking the book and asked, “May I?”

 I nodded and handed it to him, confused. 

 “You like Jerri Fuller books?” I asked as he read the back of the book. 

 Nodding, he said, “I’ve been dying to read this one but haven’t found it anywhere. Where did you find it?”

 “My mom had ordered it and had it shipped to me,” I told him in a low voice. “She knows how much I enjoy these books.”

 Looking up at me, he said, “She sounds like an excellent mother. I hope you thanked her for doing that.”

 Nodding furiously, I said, “I thanked her profusely after I opened the package. She hadn’t told me what she’d ordered. She just said to be on the lookout for the package.”

 “Can I borrow this when you’re done?” he asked, handing the book back to me.

 I hesitated a moment before nodding and saying, “Sure. I’ll give it to you when I’m done with it. I should be done in the next day or two.”

 Grinning, he said, “I can’t wait.”

 Seeing the look on his face become almost predatory, I asked, “What did you think of the movie?”

 He gave me a look as if to let me know he knew what I was doing but said, “I thought it was pretty good. I know they had to leave things out, but what they kept in was important to the story.”

 I nodded and chuckled, saying, “That’s what I told the friend I went with who threw a fit because they had to leave out so much.”

 He lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Was it a male friend or a female friend?”

 I raised one eyebrow right back at him and asked, “Does it matter?”

 Grinning at me, he said, “It might, especially if this friend sees me as competition.”

 Shaking my head, I told him, “You are too much, you know that?”

 “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” 

 I studied him for a moment before saying, “I’m not sure.”

 He grinned and popped another French fry into his mouth. 

 After we finished our meals, Gavin insisted on paying for both of them. 

 “You don’t have to do that,” I protested, reaching into my purse for my wallet.

 He put his hand on my arm and said, “I insist.”

 Taking his wallet out of his back pocket, he opened it and threw a fifty-dollar bill on the table. My eyes widened as I saw that.

 “I think you’re going to make that server’s night,” I told him. 

 He grinned at me, then held his arm out, motioning for me to walk in front of him. 

 When we got to the door, I said, “Thanks for buying me dinner. I had a surprisingly nice evening.”

 “Oh, it’s not over yet,” he said. “I’m walking you back to your dorm.”

 Shaking my head, I told him, “You don’t have to do that.”

 He turned to look at me with a serious look on his face. 

 “Yes, I do,” he said gravely. “Haven’t you heard about the attacks on lone females in the past few days? I don’t want that to happen to you.”

 I refrained from telling him that I’d been the first one to be attacked.

 Instead, I looked at him and nodded. 

 “Thank you,” I told him and pushed open the door. 

 “Oh! Excuse me,” a familiar voice said from the other side. 

 I looked into the eyes of Professor White, whose smile faded once he saw who was standing behind me.