She sighed. “Okay, I’m curious. Tell me about this dream.”

I cleared my throat, picking through the memories. “It started out with you in this blue dress, cut down to here,” I murmured, grazing my hands down to my stomach. Yeah, I loved low-cut.

“Blue isn’t my color. I’m more of a black girl. Sometimes grey.”

I shrugged. In most my dreams she was naked. “Anyway, this dress had lace on it and … I don’t know … stuff. And it matched your eyes, a deep blue like a stormy sea.”

“You’re very poetic,” she said.

“Thank you,” I said, my mouth twitching.

She chuckled, and fucking elation went through me.

“I made you laugh. I like it,” I said.

“Okay, blue dress, very revealing. Is there more?” she asked, waving my hand.

“You had on these amazing heels. I don’t remember the color … maybe an animal print … but I do remember they made you tall, your face almost level with mine.” I rubbed my jaw. “I liked those shoes.”

“Like these?” she stuck out her leg, showing me her plain flats.

My eyes ate up her legs, getting all kinds of turned on. I bit back a groan, picturing them wrapped around my waist. At this rate, I’d come in my pants.

“No, but I like those too,” I murmured. “Your legs are long, Dovey. It’s hot.”

She straightened like she was leaving. “I don’t think I like where your dream is headed.”

Wait, don’t …

“No, it wasn’t like that. It was just you standing on these stone steps, maybe in front of a museum or a library. You were waiting for someone, and when I showed up you ran straight into my arms. Like we’d known each other forever. Like we were a couple.” I glanced down at the table and then back at her. “And then I kissed you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Tongue?”

“Most definitely,” I murmured.

“Long? Short?”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Hot and deep. Languorous.”

“Languorous? One of your SAT words?”

I grinned. “It means leisurely and unhurried. It fits.”

She nibbled on her nails, her eyes on my lips. I licked mine, and her face went pink.

“Is that it? No nudity?” she said.

She totally sounded disappointed.

I put my elbows on the table, settling in. “Nope. Isn’t it enough to be the most romantic kiss known to mankind? Incredible doesn’t even touch it. The way your mouth fit to mine …” I broke from her eyes, blushing again.

When I got the nerve to look at her again, her attention was on my tat. Ah, did she like ink on guys? I crossed my arm, flexing my bicep a little so she’d have a better view of the twisting vine as it crossed my arms.

I imagined her mouth tracing those roses.

As if she read my mind, she turned pink when she looked up and met my gaze. I grinned.

Then the bell rang. Dammit. I didn’t want this to be over.

She let out a sigh and stood. “This was fun, but I have class.”

I rose and grabbed her backpack before she could. “I’ll walk you.”

She shrugged like whatever and we walked out of the cafeteria together and down the hall.

“This is me,” she said, stopping at a classroom a few minutes later. I peeked in. Geometry. I suddenly wished I was in here with her.

I shook my head. That was ridiculous.

I handed her the backpack, our hands brushing, sending little shocks through my body.

And right there, I went for it. I hadn’t officially asked a girl out on a real date in months, but with her, I was making the exception.

“I bought two tickets to see Les Miserables in a few weeks. Primo seats. Wanna go?” I asked.

“Guys like you aren’t part of my plan,” she said.

“If that’s a challenge, then I accept.”

“No challenge, just the truth.” She moved to walk away, but I pulled her back with my next words. Because I was feeling all kinds of insecure. “Okay, tell me straight. Are you just completely disinterested in me? You say one thing, but your body is saying something else.”

“My body?” She looked annoyed, but I kept on.

“Yeah, I’m getting this vibe from you. Makes me want to ditch school and drag you out to the barn at the back of campus where we can be alone. Maybe it’s all me, I don’t know, but I think you feel it too.”

“You really put yourself all out there, don’t you?” she said, her eyes big.

“Maybe. If this is my only shot, I’m going for it.” I paused. “Let me in, Dovey.”

“Why me?”

I didn’t know why her.

But I sensed this was my only chance to get her attention, so I did something crazy.

I leaned in to her and sang out in a low voice, “Why do birds sing? Why do phones ring? Why does my heart fly? For all I know, you’ll make me cry. Why do fools fall in love? Why were you named after a dove?” I stopped and grinned, impressed with my spur of the moment performance.

Her mouth gaped. “That was the most atrocious thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It was pretty cheesy, wasn’t it?”

“Pure crap,” she said, but then smiled.

I laughed, and I mean, I laughed. And the sound was so real and easy and good and she was just fucking perfect.

“Don’t tell anyone I sing silly songs,” I said teasingly. “Football players are supposed to be tough and mean.”

She gave me a thoughtful look. “Everyone says you’re pretty good on the field. That no quarterback is safe.”

I didn’t believe my own hype, actually. “Whatever.”

“I hear you’re the best defensive end BA has ever seen and a four-star recruit by ESPN.”

I scratched an eyebrow. “Maybe.” I leaned in closer. “Maybe you can come and watch me practice? I could use my own personal cheerleader in the stands.”

“I thought the season was over anyway.”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a recruiter coming to see me soon. Wanna be ready.”

“Ah, well, I’m pretty busy.” She paused, a weird look on her face. “But I’d love to see you in uniform.”

My eyes widened. Bingo! “That can be arranged. Maybe you could wear your little ballet skirt?”