“We need condoms for the heart.” Ellie got up and refilled her water bottle.

“So you aren’t jumping into anything with two feet either,” I said.

“At least I’m putting my toes in the water.”

“Traitor,” I mumbled. Because I didn’t want to spend another hour going around and around about why Bo was a bad bet, I left to study in a coffee shop downtown. Only Ellie knew I liked to study there. It was perfect and private and secret.

Which was why when I arrived there and Bo Randolph was ensconced in one of the chairs, I stood mutely with my mouth agape for a good minute. Perhaps it was only a few seconds, but it felt like a long time. Bo simply sat and smiled at me. I wanted to hit him. No, I wanted to hit Ellie. The only way Bo would have found this spot was with insider knowledge.

“How’d you get here?” I threw my bag on the floor and dropped into the chair that sat at a right angle to Bo’s. Our legs were far closer than I wanted once I’d sat down, in part because of the chair placement and in part because Bo’s legs were just so damn long.

“Can I plead the Fifth?” He held up his hands in mock surrender.

“I actually don’t think this is funny. Are you stalking me?”

“If I say yes, will you report me to the Honor Code Committee?”

Again with the flippant response. I had an urge to fling my heavy messenger bag across his face. “Spill.”

“I saw your roommate earlier today and asked her where you were. She said you’d be studying here.”

I scowled at him. There was no way Ellie would have revealed my off-campus study place to him based on a simple request.

“What else?”

Looking contemplative, he steepled his fingers under his chin as if he were weighing what information to reveal.

“I want to hear all of it. And if not from you, I’ll get it from Ellie later.”

Bo sighed and dropped his hands to clasp them loosely between his spread legs.

“I told her that I needed to see you about an important lab issue and that I wanted to apologize. She said, by the way, to tell you that you need to be more open-minded.”

Goddammit. Ellie was always trying to meddle, as if she were some kind of hippy fairy godmother or, probably in this case, some kind of Cupid. I needed to talk to her seriously about the Beauty and the Beast folk story where there’s no happy ending and the Beast gets slain by the mob of townspeople.

“Since I know that what you told Ellie is a lie and you’ve already apologized, what’s your real reason for stalking me?”

Bo shifted, bringing his one leg closer to mine, and I drew away from him, slipping my legs to the side and moving into the opposite corner of my chair. The recoil was instinctive, but it caused Bo to flinch a bit, his eyes darkening.

“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?” His voice sounded lower, almost raspy.

“No, why do you ask?” I lied.

“You’re about as skittish as a newborn foal.”

“I’m not an animal, and I’m not afraid of you. You’re just always invading my space.” I had to keep my annoyance levels up because I was doomed if Bo ever figured out how attracted I was to him.

“I’m not, you know.” Bo shifted again, moving his legs away as much as the small space would allow.

“Not what?” I was staring at Bo’s legs. Even through the worn denim, you could see his muscular thighs flex as he pushed to give himself more room and to make space for my legs. His hands, which had originally been loosely clasped between his legs, were now resting on said thighs. They were big hands with long fingers. I wondered how they would feel on my face, holding my hand, cupping me around my waist. Safe, I thought. You’d feel safe inside the circumference of his arms. But then I reminded myself that he’d only be good for a roll in the hay one time and then he’d be off to another conquest.

“What do you want from me, Bo?” His face was unreadable.

“I like being with you,” Bo admitted. “You keep me occupied.” He tapped his head.

“We’re always arguing.”

He waved his hand. “That’s not real arguing. We’re just having fun, and you know it.”

Reaching across our chairs, he placed one of those large hands on my own. “Don’t be mad at Ellie. She didn’t reveal this information easily.”

“She still sold me out.” I stared at that hand, wanting to clasp it in return. Instead, I withdrew it. Bo wasn’t going away any time soon, so all I could do was ignore him. I pulled out my textbook and settled in to study, only to be interrupted a few seconds later.

“You an economics major?”

I closed my book with deliberate slowness, keeping one hand inside as a bookmark. “Yes.”

Bo shifted again, the living embodiment of the Newton theory of physics. I looked him over with some thoroughness, taking in his bright blue eyes, down past his muscular chest, to the unopened math book in his lap. He was holding a pen that he flipped through one finger and then under the other, making it dance on his knuckles. Yes, Bo was a body in motion, constantly moving.

“I bet you drove your Mom crazy.”

This statement elicited a short laugh. Bo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. It brought his face up close and I could see the long, light-colored eyelashes that framed his upper lids. A scar ran from just under his hairline on the right down to his temple. I hadn’t seen that before. My fingers itched to trace the path. I pressed my free hand on top of the book, to keep them both trapped. I shouldn’t be touching Bo’s face, ever.

Here was the secret of Bo’s success. The outward package drew you in and the layered complexities that seemed at odds with his flighty persona kept you engaged. I wanted to pull back those layers to find out what made him tick.

“I was a troublemaker. I don’t know who was more relieved when I enlisted. My momma or the town.”

“I’m sure it was neither.”

Bo opened his mouth as if to disagree and then shut it. “Do you know why I only do hookups?” His sudden change of conversation topics surprised me.

“No, why?” I sighed.

“Because relationships require work and introspection. I don’t like to spend time inside my head. It’s not a good place.” He fisted his hands and then splayed them out wide. “All any girl has ever wanted from me is to make them feel good for a short time, and I can do that. I want to do that. I’ve fucking perfected that. But the rest—having something real and lasting in my life? No.”

“I got that message over dinner. You’re only here for a good time,” I recited. “But you know, Bo, I’ve heard that you put a lot of effort into romancing the girls, if you want to.”

“What story is this?”

“That you serenaded a sorority girl last year after winter formal.”

“Shit, you must be kidding. The guys at home won’t let me open my mouth when the music is on.”

“So what happened?” I challenged.

“The TKE winter formal was held at a hotel adjacent to a bar where we were drinking. We kind of crashed it. Adam took one of the band member’s guitars during a break and we all sang along.”

“What? That wasn’t what I heard at all. That version is pretty lame, if you ask me.”

He laughed. “Tell me what you heard.”

“I heard you drove over to the TKE house and played ‘If You Love Me’ on a loop from your convertible until the sorority girl came out, with her white dress billowing behind her. Maybe there was a glass slipper left on the stairs. I can’t remember.”

Bo was laughing at this. “First, I don’t have a convertible and wow, I sound like a total douche bag. How is this rumor helping my reputation?”

“It’s not a douche bag move.” I took a sip of my coffee. “It’s totally a Lloyd Dobbler, Say Anything move. John Hughes could have scripted that.”

“John Hughes?”

“You know, the moviemaker from the eighties.”

“You weren’t born in the eighties.”

“They’re still teen movies!”

“If I say you’re hot when you’re angry, will you hit me?”

I motioned that I would throw the cup of coffee in his face, which only made Bo laugh more.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. Tell me why this is appealing, because it sounds kind of pathetic to me.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen Say Anything.” I shook my head in disbelief.

“I’m pretty sure I was too busy killing people in Call of Duty to watch that movie.”

“In Say Anything, Lloyd Dobbler stands outside his love’s window and holds up a boombox that’s playing their song. In the rain. It’s very romantic.” I held up my arms to mimic the gesture.

He looked at me skeptically.

“It’s a sign of his true love,” I argued.

“I think true love is signified by more than some dippy guy standing outside in the rain playing music for a girl.”

“What’s an act of true love, then?”

“Throwing your body on a grenade so your buddies don’t become pieces of shrapnelized flesh.”

“My God, did you do that in the war?” I was shocked. I’d seen Bo without his shirt on and didn’t recall seeing any marks. Maybe I’d been blind? I shuddered at the thought of him being hurt.

“No,” he sighed, “but I know a guy in a different unit that did.”

“Okay, but that’s not something you could do for a girl here.” I frowned.

“True love means that you’d be willing to sacrifice all for another person.” That was pretty profound. Bo believed that?

“So maybe Lloyd was sacrificing his ego for Dianne in the movie,” I countered.

“Possibly. Still seems like a passive, weak-ass move.” Bo rubbed a finger across his chin and relaxed back in his chair.

“What should he have done?”

“To express his love?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, leaning toward him. My hands were planted on my legs and I felt poised to jump him, either in frustration or desire.

“Actions speak louder than words. Or singing, as the case may be.”

“He was out there, in the rain.”

“But he wasn’t doing anything. You show a woman you love her by what you do for her, from opening her door to making sure that bumps in the road of life are smoothed out. That she wants and worries for nothing. That when you think about sex, it’s her face in your fantasies, her body you’re touching, her lips you’re kissing. That every day you remind her that she’s the first thought in your mind when you wake up and the last thought before you drop off to sleep.”

“Oh.” To hear Bo express something so romantic in his own way made me kind of delirious. I could only manage a sound of acknowledgment. This wasn’t the sentiment of a guy who wanted only a series of emotional physical encounters.

“Yeah, oh.” Bo straightened in his chair and the humor of the moment seemed like a long distant memory. He held out his hands in supplication. “I’m a bad bet, Sunshine, but if you’re willing to give me a whirl around the ring, I’m yours. Because you’ve got me so twisted up inside that I barely know if up is down. I’m so inside my head that I’m coming out of my asshole. Have mercy on me.”

I took a shaky breath and stared at him. Maybe he was too good at persuasive speech, but all my reasons for saying no seemed to have evaporated. Right there in the coffeehouse, I melted into him and his arms came crashing around me so tight I thought he might squeeze me until I burst. But what a way to go. His embrace was like being folded against a tree, strong and straight and rooted deep. The winds of winter could buffet us, but Bo would keep me warm and protected.

“Holy shit, Sunshine. Your hesitation was about two seconds too long,” he breathed into my hair.

I giggled. “I didn’t even pause.”

“You did. But that’s okay. I’m going to make it so good for you,” he promised.

“You better. All those stories you’ve told and I’ve been told about you—they’re giving me big expectations,” I sassed.

“They were all practice for the real thing. You.”

“That’s a pretty good line,” I told him, uncertainty creeping in again.

“I’m going to tell you something.” Bo reassured me, as if sensing I was tottering on the edge again. “I’m scared, too, but neither of us are going to get what we want if we don’t take a chance.”

“I want to take this chance with you,” I admitted.

I’d just done either the stupidest thing in my life or the smartest.

Chapter Eighteen

AM

WE DROVE STRAIGHT TO MY apartment for the sole reason that it was closest to us. Bo told me not to talk and to sit on my side of the car with my hands in my lap.