Page 82 of Campus Heat

I shook my head, smiling faintly as I returned to my laptop. For a moment, the only sound between us was the quiet tapping of keys and the distant rustle of pages from the other students scattered throughout the library.

A few minutes later, Ethan leaned forward again, resting his elbows on the table. “You realize something, right?”

I gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Every single date we’ve had until now somehow revolved around schoolwork.”

I paused for a moment and actually thought it over. “These are not dates.”

Ethan gave me an incredulous look before pulling out his calendar, and I couldn’t help but wonder where he was going with this.

“Look,” he said, pointing to this week. “We’ve had dinner together three times this week.”

“The dining hall doesn’t count,” I scoffed.

He pointed to Thursday. “We watched a movie.”

I playfully slapped his hand. “With half the team.”

Ethan looked defeated for just a moment, but then he got this look, kind of like a lightbulb had flicked on in his head.

“That was only this week,” he said smugly. “We studied together last week, too.”

I had to admit that it was rather amusing watching him try to reason this out with himself. But at the same time, I was seriously considering where he was going with this because he was obviously trying to make a point.

I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms as I considered him. “So, what are you saying? Are you trying to ask me to go on a real date?”

Ethan opened his mouth immediately as if he was ready with a comeback, but then he closed it again and for a second he just looked at me. Then the humor slipped out of his expression.

“Yes,” he said simply.

I blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. Of all the things I expected, that wasn’t on my list. The air between us shifted; it was subtle but undeniable. The teasing tone that had filled our conversation moments earlier faded into something quieter.

“Oh,” I said softly.

Ethan rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking far less confident than he usually did on the field.

“I mean… yeah… I would like to take you on a real date.”

I looked down at the table and fiddled with the corner of one of my notebooks. My heart did that annoying thing again where it squeezed a little too tight whenever he said something unexpectedly sincere. It was because it was far too easy for me to fall for something like this and to just get wrapped up in the heat of the moment. But his words from the fundraiser dinner were still rattling around in the back of my mind. And the conversation he had told me about between Harris and Pine had planted a seed I couldn’t fully ignore.

I closed the laptop. “Ethan…”

He looked up hopefully.

“You said something before,” I added. “About transferring.”

His expression changed almost instantly, but for a moment he didn’t answer. Suddenly the library felt too quiet and hot. It was becoming just as suffocating as the rest of the places I had been trying to ignore.

I held his gaze and steeled my nerves. “Were you serious?”

Ethan exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair. His eyes drifted toward the tall window across the room, where the late afternoon sun was fading into a gray October dusk.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“That’s not a real answer,” I said with a slight wince.

“I know.”