“My father’s side is Romanian.”
“Nope.” She packed her lunch up. “Your dad is Archie Hudson, owner of the Dallas Mavericks, and as American as apple pie.”
“True. But I did have a dream about you.”
She made a scoffing sound. “Hello, I’ve been here since freshman year, and this is the first time you’ve noticed me? Face it, I’m not part of your little group over there.” She pointed out the cheerleaders and jocks at a table in the back. “Not buying it.”
Then she got out her math homework and ran a quick finger down the page like she was checking over it.
She was ignoring me. When most girls would have be falling all over me.
“So what clique do you belong to?” I asked, eyeing the empty seats around her.
“The non-conformist one. I don’t fit in with the Goths or the geeks or the choir people or the skaters or the druggies. You get the picture. I like being alone.” She shifted her body out of the chair and stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a math class to get to.”
I stood too. “Wait.”
“Why?”
“You didn’t ask about the dream. Don’t you want to know?” And then out of nowhere, I felt myself blushing, and she saw it too, because she went still, taking in my fire-engine-red face.
After one more searching glance, she settled back on the hard chair. “Dream, huh.”
I sat back down. “And by the way, I’ve noticed you even before our class this year. You’re different.” My voice went low. “And I saw you dance.”
“When?”
“Back in the fall. The football field has a clear view into the windows of the Symthe Dance building. You have ballet practice there every day from two to five, and I had practice at three. It was bound to happen.”
She crossed her arms, but I saw a glint of something in her eye, as if I’d intrigued her. “Did you like what you saw?”
“I got tackled by a lineman called Tank while I stood there watching you. He hit me so hard, I had to go to the doctor and get checked out.”
Her mouth parted. “Because you were so enamored with seeing me dance?” she said.
“Yep.”
She grinned. “Maybe you still have that concussion.”
“My head is clear as a bell, Dovey.” I winked at her, relaxing for the first time since I’d sat down. She was funny, and I liked how she was kinda distrustful of me. Because it meant she was smart too. And sexy. And her eyes were the most beautiful color of blue. And her skin was silky and pale, unlike my own darker complexion.
Her full lips curved up in a little smile, and right then, I wanted my hands on her. I ran my eyes over her grey tunic, imagining her tits and how small they’d be, yet they’d fit perfectly in the palm of my hand. I bet her nipples were red and if I sucked on them—
She sighed. “Okay, I’m curious. Tell me about this dream.”
I cleared my throat, picking through the memories. “It started out with you in this blue dress, cut down to here,” I murmured, grazing my hands down to my stomach. Yeah, I loved low-cut.
“Blue isn’t my color. I’m more of a black girl. Sometimes grey.”
I shrugged. In most my dreams she was naked. “Anyway, this dress had lace on it and … I don’t know … stuff. And it matched your eyes, a deep blue like a stormy sea.”
“You’re very poetic,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said, my mouth twitching.
She chuckled, and fucking elation went through me.
“I made you laugh. I like it,” I said.
“Okay, blue dress, very revealing. Is there more?” she asked, waving my hand.
“You had on these amazing heels. I don’t remember the color … maybe an animal print … but I do remember they made you tall, your face almost level with mine.” I rubbed my jaw. “I liked those shoes.”
“Like these?” she stuck out her leg, showing me her plain flats.
My eyes ate up her legs, getting all kinds of turned on. I bit back a groan, picturing them wrapped around my waist. At this rate, I’d come in my pants.
“No, but I like those too,” I murmured. “Your legs are long, Dovey. It’s hot.”
She straightened like she was leaving. “I don’t think I like where your dream is headed.”
Wait, don’t …
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was just you standing on these stone steps, maybe in front of a museum or a library. You were waiting for someone, and when I showed up you ran straight into my arms. Like we’d known each other forever. Like we were a couple.” I glanced down at the table and then back at her. “And then I kissed you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Tongue?”
“Most definitely,” I murmured.
“Long? Short?”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Hot and deep. Languorous.”
“Languorous? One of your SAT words?”
I grinned. “It means leisurely and unhurried. It fits.”
She nibbled on her nails, her eyes on my lips. I licked mine, and her face went pink.
“Is that it? No nudity?” she said.
She totally sounded disappointed.
I put my elbows on the table, settling in. “Nope. Isn’t it enough to be the most romantic kiss known to mankind? Incredible doesn’t even touch it. The way your mouth fit to mine …” I broke from her eyes, blushing again.