by Lucy Robin
I slap his palm and giggle like a schoolgirl.
He finishes his half cake in just two bites, and he sips his coffee, glancing at me.
His gaze is so intense that it burns me although I’m not even meeting his eyes. The coffee is also steaming, and soon my body is all heated.
When I finish eating, Tony scans my body and chuckles. “You’ve got some brown sugar on your shirt.”
I follow his eyes and look down at myself. It’s true. The brown sugar is scattering right on the peak of my left breast. I blush as I brush it off me, aware of his stare.
To my annoyance, a trace of the sugar gets stuck on the fabric and wouldn’t go away. Tony quickly comes to help, holding a napkin. “Allow me,” he says in a low, husky voice.
Before I can say no, he gently wipes the smudge on my shirt, his pinky unintentionally pressing my breast. I gasp as my thighs tingle.
He gazes down at me at the sound, his eyes darken and his smile freezes. My heart thumps erratically and I look away. My attention falls to his beautifully chiseled lips and spots a speck of brown sugar on the corner of his lips. Without thinking, I reach out to wipe it off with my thumb.
My gesture startles both of us. He inhales sharply and holds my hand. I pull it out right away. “I’m sorry. You have some sugar there, too.”
He smiles. “Yeah, I guess.” Then he playfully licks his lip.
Holy hell. My belly clenches at the gesture. Is he flirting with me?
I look away quickly.
We sip our coffee quietly until he speaks. “How long have you been teaching, Susie?”
“Only about two years.”
“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “But you’re very good at it.”
I smile demurely. “Thank you.”
When we finish our cake, Tony stands up. “I’d better get going. Otherwise my coach would give me hell. Thanks again for your help.”
“Not a problem,” I say, also stand up. “Thanks for the cake.”
He picks up his tennis racquet and looks at me, his blue eyes piercing into mine for a second. My heart flutters wildly in my chest. OMG. What’s wrong with me? I have the impulse to keep him here. “Do you have more questions?” I hear myself asking.
“No, not right now,” he says. “But can I see you tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “I’m afraid you can’t. Tomorrow is Thursday, and I have to teach two workshops.”
He looks disappointed. “We have a midterm exam on Friday, and I really need help with that.”
“Perhaps you can go to the tutorial center or ask your own TA?” I suggest, repressing my urge to offer help.
“Yeah, I can do that. But you explain better than them.”
I feel a bit flattered, even though I doubt the truth in his words. I’m not even sure whether he’s heard a word of my explanation earlier.
But I let him convince me. “I could meet with you for a few minutes after my second class. It ends at four.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you!” Before turning away, he flashes me a smile, a megawatt smile that melts my heart into a puddle.