, wa

t a conversation. This was the first time anyone had been nice to me, and I kept

t wasn't comfortable. I was wrapped in his coat. It was huge, warm leather reaching down to my knees. I zipped

hat. I didn't know

earlier. Well, I couldn't blame them-I'd been dumbfounded at their abs

othes, by the way?" he as

e I'd had an actual conversation with someone like him-Nathan Jones Davis, the most popular guy at Hor

" I murmured. I wasn't sure if he heard me, but he exhaled sharply and held my hand.

wkward silence filled the room. I couldn't mee

you to go home like that. We may not have a great first impression, but

r, he opened the door and helped me in. The engine sta

. He looked calm-like helping a girl he'd seen naked was no big deal. He suddenly looked my way, and I jump

rent naked women every day. Yours isn't new to me."

d apart from mine. He was probably helping out of guilt. And I knew he wouldn't talk t

ckily, I wasn't working tonight. My vision blurred with fatigue, bu

for a while, but I forgot

reet and apartment details. He no

oor. I looked up at his face-lips, nose, and then eyes that held something undefinable. He

sked as we walked to t

I nibbled my tongue to keep from trembling. The man beside me w

re closing it gently. I heard him want to say something, but I buil

wing days

Not for once was this an excuse-I h

y face with my palm. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him-Nathan Jones Davis-the way his lips curved into th

o stop thinking about Nathan, Mr. Popular, whose

wung open. Mrs. Johnson barged

nson? Why

th her hands. Something

meone's

but she whisp

chanted smile, physically impressive, tall,

poetic, but that didn't

haking the floor. Neighbors pr

I muttered, biting my nails-

on asked, curious, probably see

ous man who shoul