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  She laughed. And winced. "Crap, don't make me laugh. Any movement and my ankle kills me."

  "Is it emergency room bad?" I asked.

  "No, just I wanna go home and keep it up bad. As soon as I finish this martini."

  Olivia had driven. I held out my hand. "Give me the keys. I'll drive."

  She pulled them from her pocket and dropped them in my hand. "Bottoms up!" She downed her martini in a single gulp.

  I helped her to her feet and let her lean on me as we limped our way across the dance floor and out to the car.

  I had her settled on the sofa at home with a pillow behind her back, one beneath her ankle, a bag of frozen peas on top when my phone buzzed.

  Where are you? One dance is not enough. Is your dance card full or do I have a chance?

  Seth! I grinned stupidly. I couldn't help it.

  Olivia gave me a suspicious look and started laughing. "Ohmygosh! That must be the Ian lookalike. Is he looking for you? Pining for you?"

  "Shut up," I said to Olivia as I typed a response to Seth. My dance card is completely blank. And out of commission for the night. My klutzy roommate twisted her ankle dancing. I had to drive back to the apartment

  "You're flirting back, aren't you? Flirtexting!"

  "That's not a word and it's not even clever," I said.

  A text pinged in. Damn! My dancing's no good without you. I told you I don't like country music, right? The only thing that makes it palatable is a superior dance partner.

  "Flirxting, then." Olivia leaned up on her elbow. "What did he say?"

  I ignored her. Poor baby.

  "Mads, what did he say?"

  "He can't dance without me."

  "That would be sweet if we hadn't seen him doing it when we left."

  "I'm paraphrasing," I said.

  Guess I'll have to drown my sorrows. Text you tomorrow?

  I replied, Only if you mean it.

  I mean it.

  Text you tomorrow, then.

  "Whoa!" Olivia said. "The texts are flying back and forth. You could make him wait for, like, nine seconds or something before you reply. You know the rules—don't be too eager. Make him sweat it."

  "I don't string guys along." I slipped my phone into my pocket.

  "You have it bad." She rearranged the peas on her ankle. "I can't believe you. Remember Kylie and Kurt in high school? Everyone thought they were such an incredibly cute couple, looking so adorably like brother and sister. Everyone but you. You mocked them mercilessly behind their backs. And now, here you are, completely gaga over a guy who could be your brother."

  "Besides both being blond, Ian and I don't look alike. And that is the key difference. I'm not going for a guy who's like the guy version of myself." I gave her a look that said, There. I run rings around you logically.

  She ignored my rational argument. "Maybe you really are twins by different moms. Have you compared birthdays?"

  "Shut up!" I gave her the narrow-eyed stare of righteous anger.

  She shook her head in that patronizing way and sighed heavily, like she was resigned to my denial and it was almost cute. "Really? Snap a selfie of you two next time. He looks a lot like Ian. What is Ian going to think when he sees you two together? Is he going to wonder if there's an Oedipus thing going on with you?"

  "Ick! That was a mother and son thing, so no." I made an exaggerated shudder. "Besides, people are wrong. They think Ian and I look alike just because we have the same coloring. People don't pay attention.

  "And Ian is not going to see us together. Why would he?" I put a definite note of finality in my voice, like, end of story. "Unless he stops by my cooking class."

  Olivia's eyes went wide and her face lit up. Oh, crap. She had that light-bulb-moment look on her face. "Wait a minute. Seth is in your HBM 225 class? The one where you were certain a life-changing event would take place? Looks like you found your event—a totally hot guy to play with!" She clapped her hands like a delighted child. "You told me your intuition was wrong. What happened? Wasn't he there the first day? Did he just transfer in? You're holding out on me. Why haven't you told me about him?"

  "Maybe because there's nothing to tell." Why was I so defensive? "We're partners in cooking lab—"

  "Partners!" She clapped again. "That sounds serious. You really are holding out on me."

  I talked over her. "I ran into him tonight. He asked me to dance. End of story."

  "Then he texts you minutes after you leave, longing for you tragically. Unable to dance with anyone else because no one feels as good in his arms as you do. No one understands his moves. Or follows his lead as well. Or captures his heart." She clasped her hands in front of her like a sappy romantic making her point.

  I rolled my eyes. "Very funny."

  She grinned evilly. "Sounds like a promising start to me. It's about time you found true love."

  I shook my head. "Before you go too much farther and make a fool of yourself, maybe you didn't hear me well enough in the bar—Seth is Seth." I looked at her like she should immediately understand. "The Seth. You know, my study buddy Zach's former fellow Double Deltsie houseboy?"

  She nodded. "I know. I heard you the first time. The hit-on-every-girl-in-the-Double-Deltsie-house Seth. The stud of Delta Delta Psi."

  "Exactly." I nodded. "Hook up with any girl he can Seth. Yep. That's the one. A houseboy." I wrinkled my nose. "Okay, former houseboy now. For the Double Deltsies, of all places. Like he couldn't have worked in a house that actually has girls who are nice."

  I couldn't hide the note of disgust in my tone. Or distrust. Maybe I was coming to my senses. Those of us outside the Greek system didn't like the Double Deltsies. They were inarguably the most stuck-up house on campus, full of drama queens and rich bitches.

  Zach's funny stories about life in a sorority aside, I had never known how he could stand living there. Yeah, it was just about his only option. But still. And then he had fallen in love with one. His current girlfriend, Alexis. He claimed she was different. Time would tell.

  But what about Seth? Why had he lived there? Easy access to the hotties?

  "He was at Bourbon Beach with a big group of them."

  Olivia frowned. "Oh. That sucks." She was quiet a minute, like she was thinking. "Maybe it's not as bleak as it looks, you losing your heart to a charming player who lived in a sorority."

  "I didn't say I'd lost my heart. I grant you that he can dance. And that is a little sexy." I held my thumb and forefinger less than an inch apart to show her how little.

  "As your roommate and best friend," Olivia said, "I have to say this—first, a warning. Watch yourself. And second, maybe we've misjudged Seth. Maybe there's more to him."

  "You mean, maybe Zach's been making fun at Seth's expense?"

  Olivia shrugged. "Maybe." She moved her leg and the peas nearly slid off her ankle. She leaned forward to catch them.

  "He did save me from a douche at the bar," I said. "Do you need fresh peas?"

  She laughed. "No, these are still frozen enough." She readjusted them. "Stop changing the subject. I'm just saying, you're usually a good judge of people. If you like him, maybe there's something there."

  Chapter 6

  Seth

  There's an art to texting women. It's in the timing. Which, believe it or not, guys stress over just as much as girls. Maybe more. If you text too soon or too often, you come off as a desperate stalker. On the other hand, wait too long and you lose your opportunity. Or piss her off with the impression you're not into her and are just getting in touch because you have nothing better to do.

  If you reply to her texts too quickly, or too slowly, same deal. I'd already blown it with Maddie by appearing too eager. And using her number when I'd obtained it under false "studying only" purposes. To hell with that. A girl should be flattered a guy was into her that much. But being flattered was purely a matter of how much she was into you. And there was the rub. How could a guy know for sure?

  Add to that the parsing. What
does "text you tomorrow" really mean? Is it a throwaway flirt like "talk to you tomorrow"? See ya later? Have a nice day? When tomorrow would the timing be just right? What tone to take? Witty? Funny? Sarcastic? Ask her out? Suggest we study together? For cooking class? Shit, I wasn't usually this insecure.

  I was spotting for Zach in the weight room at the rec center. I should have been paying attention rather than daydreaming and stressing about texting Maddie. But I couldn't get her smile out of my mind. Or stop thinking about the way she felt in my arms.

  Zach was bench-pressing two-fifty with the help of my pointer fingers positioned at the center of the bar to help him balance. Funny how a finger or two lifting, at most, a few pounds by the spotter made all the difference. However small my help was, he would have failed without it. Which was exactly like life. The smallest things made the difference. Right now, I had him at my mercy. He had to listen to my girl problems.

  "So?" I said to Zach. "What do you think? When do I text her?"

  His arms were shaking as he locked his elbows and let out a deep breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  "What the hell happened to your confidence, bro?" His face was red with exertion as he lowered the bar.

  I guided the bar down with the tips of my fingers until he set it in its guide.

  He wiped his hands. "That's it for me." He slid out from beneath the bar and sat up on the bench. "In answer to your question—never."

  "Never? What the shit do you mean by that?" I glared at him. I should have made him answer when I had some power over him.

  "Just what I said. Look, sorry, dude. I didn't think you two would ever get together. I've told her stories about you. About what a player you are."

  I stared at him, stunned. "What? You talked about me? When? Why would you do that?"

  He shook his head. "Since I first met her. You have to admit, some of the things you've done are pretty funny." He laughed like he was teasing. "Like chasing the girls in the house when you knew they were off limits and out of your league. Remember that time you went after Kelly—"

  "Kelly and I hooked up once. When we were feeling reckless and rebellious about house rules." I stared at him, remembering Maddie seeing me dance with Kelly. "You didn't tell Maddie about that? You swore you wouldn't tell anyone."

  "Relax. Your secret's safe." He grabbed a towel and mopped off. "I've never told anyone you actually hooked up. I didn't want you to lose your job. Not that it matters now. I may have mentioned part of the chase. You were hysterical, man."

  He paused. "I told her stories about a lot of people in the house. Girls are always curious about what it's like for guys living in a sorority."

  I silently cursed to myself. I should have been mad at Zach. But he was right—people were always asking about life in the house. And it was easier to make a joke of it than admit to the embarrassment of being in the servant class.

  "Also, I also felt I owed it to Maddie. In case she accidentally met you when we were studying sometime and you turned on the charm and gave her the wrong idea. Girls like you, Seth. God knows why." He shook his head like it was a complete mystery. "I don't need you hooking up with one of my best study partners and making things awkward for all of us. Between you and me. Me and her. You and her. I'm crap at being the middleman."

  "Why would it be awkward?" I sat next to him.

  "I don't know." His voice was full of sarcasm. "Take the current situation. With you stressing about when to text her."

  I shrugged and swallowed hard. "I like her."

  "I like her, too. She's a sweet girl. Which means I'm gonna protect her from douches like you." He laughed.

  "You need to work on your big-brother issues, Zach. You don't have to protect everyone. Certainly not from me."

  He shrugged my insult off. "I like you, too, bro. Which is why I'm warning you. Maddie wants a reliable, steady guy. You have too many commitment issues for a girl like her. It's a match made in hell. Want my advice? Save yourself some heartache. Don't text her."

  "Then I'll be working in hell's kitchen in cooking lab. We're lab partners."

  "I told you not to switch labs." He slapped me on the back. "Hey. Sorry, man. I didn't mean to screw things up for you."

  "I don't have commitment issues." I was defensive for good reason.

  "You haven't had a girlfriend longer than two months since I've known you. Things start going well. And you bail on them." He gazed steadily at me.

  "Most girls get possessive too damn fast."

  "Uh-huh. I have found a study partner I want to hang with at least until I graduate. And you can't afford to piss off your lab partner. Especially this early in the semester."

  He had a point. I ignored it and pulled out my phone. "Enough of this shit."

  "Don't text her unless you think you can make this work for at least the semester." He was just goading me now. On purpose, judging from the smug look on his face.

  "Fuck that."

  Maddie

  I had been stupidly checking my silent phone all morning. Which was dumb on so many levels—emotionally and logically. For example, I was an early riser. For a college student, anyway. I'd been up since nine. In the morning. Statistically, unless Seth had a major test to study for or a huge project to work on, he was probably still in bed past noon, like more than half the campus. I was handwringing over nothing.

  I finally set my phone to vibrate. When it buzzed in my pocket, I practically jumped. And couldn't pull it out fast enough. My heart started pounding. When I saw it was from Seth, I broke out in a stupid, lovesick smile.

  Hey, is it too early to text you?

  Now, the girl's ever-present dilemma—text right back like I'm way too eager or make him wait? Crap, I couldn't help myself. Better to be too eager than too aloof, right? Better to show him more interest than less.

  It's never too early to text

  After I hit send, I regretted that smiley face almost instantly. But it was too late to take it back. Was an emoticon too cutesy? Over-the-top eager, like a beaver? Crap. My turn to wait.

  But not long. My phone buzzed almost immediately.

  Want to study together?

  Study? What were we going to study? It wasn't like cooking class was study-intensive. I took the offensive.

  Sure. I have some Sensory Evaluation of Food and Wine lab homework I have to do. Want to help me?

  It was the truth. I had a lab write-up due on Tuesday. But did that sound too flirty? Would he take it literally? Or like I was offering to sit around and drink wine? Crap. Sometimes this major was way hard to deal with.

  He replied, That will pair nicely with the studying I was going to propose—getting a jump on ideas for our HBM 225 final project. Have you read the course outline? We need to work on our food point of view. It's never too early to experiment. I have a meal I'd like to try out on you and get your opinion on. We can use my kitchen. Seven tonight at my place?

  I paused, confused and excited. Was he asking me out? Was he going to cook for me? Or were we really going to study? Did he mean for me to bring the wine?

  There were thought bubbles on my phone. He was typing something. He texted again before I could reply. Late notice, I know. If you're busy tonight, we can go for another time.

  I smiled to myself, full of hope. Was Seth just a little insecure? That couldn't be! Not the Seth Zach had described to me. Insecurity meant he liked me. He liked me! I replied before I lost my chance. Tonight's great! Should I be studying red or white wine?

  Red. He gave me his address.

  I knew where it was. I'd been to his complex before.

  So he wasn't picking me up. Which made sense if he was cooking. Date or not date? Why did guys have to be so hard to figure out?

  I typed my reply. See you tonight.

  I made Olivia go with me to get the wine. Even though she was still hobbling around on her ankle, she was a good sport. I was no wine expert. I'd only had one lab, and it was just the intro. Part of our homework was to try
a new wine from our list each week and write a report, kind of like a book report about wine. I went for broke and bought two that were on the class list, thinking I'd kill two weeks' homework at once. Both were local Washington state wines. I picked them in the most scientific way—I liked the look of the bottles and packaging.

  I obsessed to Olivia as I got ready for the evening. Now who was the insecure one? "How do you dress for what might be a romantic dinner? Or could be just a study date?"

  She rolled her eyes. "When in doubt, wear tight jeans and let your boobs and midriff show. In two words—look hot. No guy's going to complain about getting an eyeful of cleavage, and you have your bases covered." She pulled a top out of my closet and held it out to me. "Wear your jeweled bellybutton ring, the one with the blue stone."

  "You're a genius," I said as I took the blouse from her.

  I arrived at Seth's apartment with my stomach fluttering, and the wines, my lab notebook, and laptop in my backpack. As decoys or props or whatever. I was prepared for either dinner date or study date.

  When he opened the door, something inside smelled delicious. But oh my! He was the main event. Dressed in skinny jeans, a white T-shirt, and beanie, he looked simply delectable. It always surprised me that his gruff was dark and sexy, although his hair, which peeked from beneath the beanie, was dark blond.

  I inhaled deeply to cover my nerves and get a grip. "Yum! It smells good in here. I'm guessing your point of view is Italian?"

  He grinned. "Good guess." He took my coat and backpack. "This is heavy. What do you have in here?"

  "My homework. Wine. Remember?"

  His eyes sparkled. "That's a real class?" He looked surprised.

  "Duh!" I laughed. "And you have to be twenty-one to take it. Just like for the beer-making class. One of only a couple classes at the university where they card you to get in!"

  "Wow! You have an exciting major. Why aren't people flocking to get in?"

  "You've got me. It's the best one ever." I couldn't stop staring at him, or wanting to run my hands over his gruff. "Doesn't Zach ever talk to you about his classes?"