My brain, slower than usual, only now seems to register the fact that we’re alone, at a corner of the bar. Though there are several students converging around Luke, they leave plenty of room, reluctant to crowd Keller.

I really should have followed Lily.

“Several things.”

That smile again. The one that never reaches his eyes and makes my entire body tense.

“For starters, my sister, Lisa, wondered if you’d consider babysitting Octavia occasionally. My niece really took a shine to you.”

“Oh!” I’m thoroughly taken aback. “Sure. I mean, so long as it doesn’t interfere with my classes; I won’t really know until Monday, but I’d love to. I used to babysit growing up. I have references.”

“Lisa will be delighted to hear that,” Keller assures me.

My unease has disappeared. Of course he wants me to babysit. He wouldn’t think of me that way. Guys like Keller are into glamorous, famous, rich top models.

“And secondly, I’d very much like to kiss you.”

I blink. I heard him wrong. I must have. “Sorry, what?”

He doesn’t repeat himself, those blue eyes glistening now.

“I have a boyfriend,” I remind him.

“Mm. So I heard. But you look positively delicious tonight, and he isn’t here. Someone ought to appreciate it.”

“A girl has the right to look nice without being objectified.” I bristle. “I’m sorry, but I’d never cheat on my boyfriend.”

And I am. Sorry, that is. Because I like chatting with him, and I’d hate for him to ignore me. I don’t really know anyone else in town, except my roommate.

He laughs a little. “Care to make a wager? You're going to kiss me of your own volition in the next five minutes. If you don't, I'll leave you alone. If you do, you have to give me your number.”

“That's…” I try to find the right word, my tipsy mind not coming up with anything strong enough at first. “Absurd.”

“So you take the wager?”

He’s fucking cocky about it, like he knows he’ll win.

I wave him off carelessly. “Sure, whatever.”

Keller leans in. “Kiss me, and I'll pay for your grandma's knee replacement. The whole thing, including her recovery. She'll be told it's covered by an anonymous donor.”

My mouth falls open in actual shock. I don’t think I understand what’s going on at first, each awful seconds making the entire situation clearer.

I never told anyone here about my grandma’s knees. How does he know she needs a replacement? Or that we can’t afford it? How, how, how…

I make myself spell it out.

“How did you learn she needs surgery?” I ask, my voice low.

There’s only one answer. He doesn’t bother to voice it.

“You have ten seconds to decide.”

He’s been looking into me. Intrusively. Learning intimate details he should absolutely not have access to.