The man with his back to me, who I knew was Grady, rose and turned. With a bit of relief, I realized he would be seated to my left. Looking up, I found he was a few inches taller than me and was just as cute as Avery had said. His sandy brown hair and light blue eyes reminded me of the beach. He was smiling, and it was warm and friendly.

“That’s totally okay,” Grady said. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied, flushing slightly as he pulled my chair out and waited for me to sit down. I did just that, carefully placing the strap of my purse on the back of my chair. No way in hell was my Coach purse sitting on the floor. I glanced around the table. “So, um, have we ordered food yet?”

“I put in an order for spinach artichoke dip.” Cam curled his arm around the back of Avery’s chair. “And cheese fries . . . with extra bacon and cheese.”

“Someone eats like they run up and down a field for a living,” Grady commented, grinning as he glanced over at me. “Unlike the rest of us.”

Cam chuckled. “Don’t hate.”

Picking up the glass of Coke, I took a sip to ease my dry throat and calm the nervous buzz trilling in my veins. “So, Avery was saying you work at Shepherd?”

Grady nodded and spoke directly facing me, obviously aware of my partial deafness. “Yes, but my job is nowhere near as entertaining as Cam’s. I teach chemistry.”

“He’s just being modest,” Cam said, waiting until I turned to him before he continued. “He’s the youngest professor in the science department.”

“Wow. That’s impressive,” I commented, wondering if he knew I’d dropped out of college and what he thought about that. You had to be pretty smart to teach chemistry. “How long have you been there?”

As he answered my question, I saw his gaze drop from mine, flickering over my cheek, but his expression didn’t change, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. “They were telling me you attended Shepherd?”

I nodded, glancing at Avery. “I did . . .” I closed my mouth, not sure of what else to say. Silence trickled out, and I grabbed my glass again.

Cam came to the rescue, bringing up the subject of seven-year-old Ava’s fixation with soccer. “She’s so going to play.”

“She’s going to dance,” Avery corrected.

“She could probably do both,” Grady jumped in. “Couldn’t she?”

It took me a moment to realize he was talking to me. “With her energy? She could do dance, soccer, and gymnastics.”

Avery laughed. “Our girl is . . . well, she’s a handful.”

“It’s so strange that Alex is the mellow one out of the two,” Cam mused. “Would’ve expected him to be all over the place.”

“Give him time,” she replied dryly. “He’s only eleven months old.”