Surprise flooded his face. “How’d you know? Most can’t tell us apart.”

“Your smile.” Flushing, she wanted to hit herself. Your smile? Wow. She glanced down at her schedule quickly, realizing she had to go to the second floor. “I mean, the other one didn’t smile at all, like, the entire class.”

He chuckled at that. “Yeah, he’s worried that smiling will give him premature wrinkles.”

Bethany laughed. Funny and cute? Me likey. “And you’re not worried?”

“Oh, no, I plan on aging gracefully. Looking forward to it.” His grin was easy, lighting up eyes that couldn’t be real. They had to be contacts. He continued. “Cocoon is my favorite movie, actually.”

“Cocoon?” She busted out laughing, and his grin tipped higher. “I think that’s my great-great-great grandmother’s favorite movie.”

“I think I might like your great-great-great grandmother. She’s got good taste.” Leaning around her, he opened one side of the heavy double doors. Students veered out of his way as if he was a self-contained wrecking ball. “You can’t go wrong with it. Eternal youth. Aliens. Shiny things in the pool.”

“Pod people?” she added, dipping under his outstretched arm—a nice, well-defined arm that stretched the material of his sweater. Cheeks flushing, she quickly averted her eyes and headed up the stairs. “So, you’re big on the golden oldies?”

She felt him shrug beside her. In the wide stairwell that smelled faintly of mold and gym socks, he remained right by her side, leaving a small space for people to get around them.

Dawson looked over her shoulder as they rounded the landing. “What class do you have next?”

Holding up the schedule, she wrinkled her nose. “Uh…history in room…”

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He grabbed the paper from her hand, quickly scanning it. “Room 208. And it’s your lucky day.”

Since a guy like him was chatting with her, she was going to have to agree. “Why is that?”

“Two things,” he said, handing the schedule back to her. “We have art and then last period—gym—together. Or it could just be my lucky day.”

Unbelievably hot. Funny. And knew all the right things to say? Score. He held the second door open for her, and she added “gentleman” to the list. Biting her lip, she searched for something to say.

Finally, she asked, “What class do you have next?”

“Science on the first floor.”

Her brows shot up as she glanced around. As expected, people were definitely staring. Mostly girls. “Then why are you on the second floor?”

“Because I wanted to be.” He said it so matter-of-factly that she had the impression he made a habit of doing whatever he wanted on a regular basis.

His eyes met hers and held them. Something in his stare made her feel hyperaware of herself—of everything around her. In a sudden moment of clarity, she knew her mom would take one look at a guy like Dawson and send her off to an all girls’ school. Boys like him usually left a trail of broken hearts as long as the Mississippi behind them. And she should be running into her class—which couldn’t be too far away now—as fast as she could, because the last thing Bethany wanted was another broken heart.

But she was just standing there, not moving. Neither of them was. This…this was intense. More so than the first time she kissed a boy. The kicker was they weren’t even touching. She didn’t even know him.

Needing space, she stepped to the side and swallowed. Yep, space was a good idea. But his concentrated stare still reached her from behind thick lashes.

Without breaking eye contact, he motioned toward a door over his shoulder. “That’s room 208.”

Okay. Say something or nod, you idiot. Definitely not making a good impression here. What eventually came out of her mouth was sort of horrifying. “Are your eyes real?”

Aw, hell, awkward much?

Dawson blinked, as if the question surprised him. How could it? People had to ask him that all the time. She’d never seen eyes like the twins’. “Yeah,” he drawled. “They’re real.”

“Oh…well, they’re really pretty.” Heat swept across her cheeks. “I mean, they’re beautiful.” Beautiful? She needed to stop talking now.

His grin went right back to full wattage. She liked it. “Thank you.” He cocked his head to the side. “So…you’re going to leave me hanging?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a tall blond boy who looked as if he’d stepped off the pages of a teen magazine. He caught sight of Dawson and stopped abruptly, causing another guy to barrel into his back. With a half grin, the tall boy apologized but never took his eyes off Dawson. And they were blue, like cornflower blue. None of her paints could even hope to capture the intensity of the color. Just like she was equally sure they would never be able to do justice to Dawson’s eyes, either.

“Huh?” she said, focusing on Dawson.

“Your name? You never told me what your name is.”

“Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Bethany.”

“Elizabeth.” He repeated her name as if he were tasting the sound. “Does Bethany come with a last name?”

Heat crept up her neck as she gripped the strap on her bag. “Williams—my last name is Williams.”

“Well, Bethany Williams, this is where I have to leave you.” Goodness, he sounded genuinely dismayed. “For now.”

“Thank—”

“No need.” As he backed away from her, his eyes glimmered under the light. Dazzling. “We’ll see each other soon. I’m sure of it.”




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