“Um. Yeah. I’m an urban planner, like I mentioned before. My specific area of interest is public transportation. I just graduated from NYU last year.” He didn’t usually mention his prestigious alma mater, but he felt a need to legitimize—in any possible way—the presence of the toy train in his room. “I guess it’s always been an interest of mine.” He cleared his throat. “My grandfather was a train conductor for Amtrak. We had a love of trains in common.”

“Wow. That’s so sweet.”

He was still trying to figure out if sweet was any better than cute when she’d come up beside him and peeked out his bedroom door toward the living room. Her face fell. “Shoot,” she’d muttered. “Guess I missed my chance!”

Quentin had followed her eye line across the party to where Jared was leading one of his more shapely coworkers into his bedroom, then firmly closing the door behind them. Understanding conked Quentin over the head with all the subtlety of a nine iron.

Cat had come to the party with her eye on his cousin.

“Oh.”

“I meant to finally make my move on your sexy roommate but you distracted me with your hot takes on breakfast sausage!” she’d playfully accused Quentin.

They had, in fact, spent a good deal of time debating whether flat or round breakfast sausage was better.

They’d chatted a few more minutes after that before Quentin told her that he was tired and she took the hint. He’d locked himself into his room that night feeling pretty stupid and deflated.

They’d run into one another in the hallway a few times since then, but as she always found a way to ask about Jared, Quentin had started trying to avoid her.

Jared was tall and good-looking. He had this sort of dark-haired vampire thing going on. He always looked to Quentin like he’d spent the night crying over his own poetry, but apparently women were into it. With or without Lara in his life, Jared didn’t need Quentin as a wingman. He could pull pretty much any woman he had his eye on.

“Ah, right,” Quentin finally said, standing across the hall from her, responding to her comment about his train set. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “Gotta get to work. Have fun at the beach.”

“Hold on a sec and I’ll head down with you!” she chirped.

“Gotta run!” he said over his shoulder and took the stairs two at a time.

Chapter Two

THE THURSDAY MORNING after she’d run into Quentin in the hallway, Cat tossed her gym bag over her shoulder and headed out. By the middle of (the blessedly glorious) summer break, she would be able to sleep in. But less than a week in, she was still naturally waking up early and searching for things to fill her days with, which was why she loved New York City. There was literally always something to do. She’d gone to the beach the last few mornings, but not today. Today she was working out.