Amber had been sharp and early for the first class that week, ever the punctual student.

Not today. This time, neither the sun nor the birds chirping could wake her. Good old Brittany, of course, stayed up late, so she was still asleep when Amber’s internal alarm clock chimed.

Last student, but not the last person. Thank God! The professor is still missing!

She made it five minutes before the start of class—the last student to walk in. Amber hated being the last one because it meant getting the leftover seats. Hence, arriving bright and early. Not this time, however, and Amber only had herself to blame.

Amber hesitated by the door, staring out into the vast ocean of students, speculating on where to sit. Was there even an open seat left in the house?

After last night’s incident, Amber had tried to go back to reading without making any real progress in her book. Her brain simply refused to cooperate, continuously looping back to the library’s event, first to a particular green eye fellow, and the secret messages passed before finally stopping at Morman Down There. Most notably were the text messages and how much flirting he was doing, including how much ignoring she was accomplishing. All of it played repeated in her head until Amber ultimately called it quits.

Well, technically, until she tapped out.

“Amber!” Hunter waved his hand from the far end of the room. “Over here! I saved you a seat.”

At least there was one good thing about having a friend in class.

Amber promptly made her way to Hunter and took the seat he saved without drawing too much attention. As the heir to a company worth more than a billion dollars, there were always eyes on her, which meant being extra careful in public. The campus was like a breathing paparazzi—the less conspicuous, the better.

“I didn’t expect the class to be so full,” Hunter remarked as Amber settled in comfortably beside him. Thank goodness he took up two seats at the end, so she didn’t have to squeeze through anyone. “It’s a full house.”

“No kidding.” Amber’s gaze moved throughout the room. “Not an empty seat left.”

“Were you avoiding me on purpose?” Hunter’s faced her, a smile playing around his lips, like a kid scheming to steal his favorite ice cream treat. A displaced curl or two lay on his forehead, and Amber’s fingers itched to sweep it away but held herself. “Were you thinking about me so much you couldn’t sleep?”

The room went silent. Or maybe it had always been quiet, and she didn’t notice?

“Hunter…” Amber warned.

“What?” He gave an exaggerated look. Then in a loud tone, “Can’t a guy have a decent private dialogue with his girlfriend in public?”

At which point, the noise started up again, and everyone angled away.

Ignoring Hunter’s eyes, Amber made herself at home, unzipping her backpack to take out her binder and pens before placing her water bottle and phone on the table. She kept her laptop tucked away, and with class two-and-a-half hours long, paying attention was going to be a full-time job. It also didn’t help that she skipped breakfast this morning by sleeping in.

As if on cue, her stomach growled modestly.

Amber sank back against the chair, noticing something else on the desk. Her eyes gravitated to the transparent plastic cup and then at Hunter before traveling back to the cup.

It looked to have chocolate and milk. Or maybe coffee and cream?

A cheeky smile from Hunter. “Yours.”

Before Amber could ask, the professor, a female this time, walked in, and everything came to a halt. The professor began talking as she approached the front, directing students to turn off or silence their phones. The subject turned to rules and expectations just as she reached the dull front desk.

Amber muted her phone and noticed the missed call from her dad. Probably during her scramble to get to class, and why she didn’t hear it ring. It was too late to call back now. Her dad was going to have to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, Hunter shifted casually over to her side with a patch of paper underneath his elbow. Her heart did a quick three-sixty as he moved away, and she caught the comfortable scent of fresh soap and outdoors. While not precisely stormy tides and evening breezes like the night at the library, it was calming and different. Amber was used to cologne coming from a guy and was glad Hunter didn’t fall into that category. A glance at him showed he had turned back to the front.

Amber glanced down at the masculine print.

Hunter: Don’t enjoy your coffee? You haven’t taken a sip.

Quietly, she inserted the straw into the plastic cup before mixing and realized it was still cold, with leftover ice cubes. Amber checked the markings on the cup, noting the ingredients: ice, coconut milk, drizzled caramel, and macchiato.

So, it was coffee and coconut milk, after all—her favorite. Hunter even knew the brand she preferred.

Amber took another sip, longer this time, enjoying the texture and flavor of the bitter coffee fused with caramel and coconut milk. It hit all the right spots, and Amber took her time on the third drink, leisurely savoring it with her tastebuds.

Amber: Okay, I’ll give you points for that. I guess having you as a stalker isn’t too tragic. You don’t sound too psychotic.

Hunter: Want to thank me? Then have lunch with me after this afternoon?

Amber considered the options. Her next class wouldn’t be until 2 pm, which meant she had time to waste. A fact Hunter already knew.

Amber: What about breakfast?

Hunter: That’s tomorrow’s schedule. I’m talking about today.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. She took another drink, pondering. What was he after? And did she even want to know? A lunch date didn’t sound too bad, though, especially with her newfound friend. What could go wrong? Plus, by giving him what he wanted (time and her company), he should get bored and finally leave her alone.

Right?

Amber: If I agree to this, no more notes. Unless it’s an emergency?

Amber observed Hunter sulking like a boy denied sweets while reading the note. He glanced over at her with an overly dramatic expression of disbelief before bending down to write.

Hunter: It’s an emergency if I don’t get a note from you in class, but alas! I will accept; ’tis also good to hear your voice!

Shaking her head at his final message and choice of words, Amber placed the note away in her binder and faced the front of the classroom. A test—to see if he would stick to his words or continue sending letters and distract her. Not that she was complaining. She would kill first before admitting she enjoyed the notes between them.

With Hunter ignoring her, Amber scrutinized him from the corner of her eyes, somewhat curious. His skills at turning on and off distractions were on par with hers if she thought about it, watching as his eyes went to his computer then to the professor. As if he wasn’t conscious of her eyes on him. Maybe he wasn’t?

To her astonishment, Hunter had turned into the perfect student taking notes and even raising his hands a few times to ask questions. It was like Amber no longer existed.

He was distracting when he wanted and the perfect student when he needed. Amber didn’t know which version she liked better and was annoyed and amused all at once. More shocking was even her approval of him. Maybe they could be friends?

Pity there were no more letters, but Amber was grateful for the extra breathing space. There was a time and place for everything, and while Hunter could be a distraction, she didn’t come here to be distracted. She didn’t think he did either. They were both just two students trying to survive their second year of college.

Her last thought was that she should, once more, just give Hunter what he needed. It might make her life easier. After all, he got what he needed now and finally left her alone.

Right?

Amber took another sip of coffee and, finally, directed her attention to the professor.