I let out a harsh sigh before continuing. She isn’t going to make this easy. “Anyway, I ran into him today and—”

“Did you actually run into him? Where did you run into him?”

“Molly… Jesus fuck. Shut up for five seconds. I ran into him… in his classroom and—”

“Again, not running into him. But continue. I don’t have all day.”

“Okay, if you’d stop interrupting me—no. You know what? Never mind. Anyway, I randomly, on a whim, without expecting a yes, asked him if he wanted to grab drinks tonight after work as friends.”

“Wow! And he said yes?!”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t even know what came over me. It just blurted out before I could stop it.”

“Damn. Well, of course you have to go. Let me know how it goes.”

“I will. Thanks, Mol.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of staff meetings and academic appointments. It barely seems like any time has passed by the time I look at my watch and see it’s four forty-five.

Shit, better get going.

Bar PM is only about three minutes from campus. I grab my helmet, lock up my office, and stroll out toward my bike. It roars to life, vibrating underneath me, as I take off out of the parking lot. It’s a warm evening, even as the sun is setting.

As I park, I realize I don’t even know what Cash drives anymore, so I don’t know if he’s here yet. With my helmet in hand, I walk in, taking a look around but not seeing him. I take a seat and pull out my phone, doing my pathetic nightly check up on his Instagram. “Hey,” a timid voice in front of me says, pulling my attention from my phone up to a pair of beautiful, obsidian eyes.

“Hey. You came.” I lock my phone, shoving it into my pocket, thankful that he didn’t just catch me creeping on him.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?” He takes a seat across from me, hands clasped together on the table. I could stare at him for hours, days on end, and not get tired of him.

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you did. How was your day?”

He watches me for a moment with an expression dancing on his features that I can’t quite dissect before he responds. “It was long. Mondays are my longest days. What ’bout you?”

Just then, a woman in a short skirt and a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it strolls up to our table with a smile on her face. “Hey, y’all. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a Jack and Coke,” I say, peering over at Cash.

“Uh, same, please. Thank you.” When he smiles, it’s bright against his tan skin and his eyes gleam.