sake . He'd enjoy this last remnant of friendship without giving anything away. After this weekend, he'd keep his distance. It wouldn't be hard with her living three states away.
He scanned the table and his mouth watered, though whether from desire for Cyn or for food he couldn't say. The mingled scents of kielbasa, Swedish meatballs, and honey barbecued chicken wings made his stomach growl.
He went for the meat while she loaded up on fruit and crudités. She had always been careful about her weight, but he would have to get some protein into her. That plate of roughage was mostly water—it wouldn't keep the alcohol from heading straight to her bloodstream. The last thing he wanted was someone taking advantage of her.
Plates loaded up, they wandered back to their friends. Cyn stood next to Rick at a table, Trent at her other side. He speared a meatball and held it up to her mouth. "One bite won't hurt you."
She hesitated a moment before biting the meatball in half. He ate the other half, smiling at her. There was something decadent about feeding her, providing for her that way.
"Tell me about your books."
She rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't like them. College romance—very sexy and angsty."
"Based on your experience?"
"The angst part, maybe." She patted her lips with a napkin. They were red and kissable. Her gaze fell to her plate. "Truth is, I didn't date much in college. Hookups weren't my thing, and I didn't meet the right guy."
His heart somersaulted. He'd expected Cyn to get plenty of offers. It was stupid, but he was glad she hadn't been involved with many guys.
"I thought I met the right girl," he said, "but I was wrong."
"Emily?"
"We were together two years. In the end, we weren't compatible." I wanted to tie her up, and she wasn't into that.
"Sorry it didn't work out."
"I'm not." He bit his lip. The words had flown from his mouth the instant he thought them. How could he explain? If it had worked out with Emily, he wouldn't have this chance with Cyn. But what made him think he had a chance now? He'd never seen anyone more beautiful, not even on TV. Sure, she was being nice to him, but she'd been nice before. It didn't mean anything.
Get a grip, loser .
"Tell me about your thesis," she said.
He bit his cheeks. "You don't want to hear about that."
"I do!"
"You asked for it. Biologic alternatives to petrochemicals. Plastics made from plants."
"Sounds interesting. Fossil fuels won't last forever."
He couldn't tell if she really cared or was being polite.
"That's the idea," he said. "And plant-based products are potentially biodegradable. The challenge is, if we divert too much farmland away from the food supply, we could end up with a global food shortage. I'm exploring oceanic sources."
"You mean like algae?"
"One possibility." He smiled. Maybe she really was interested. "The fish oil pills people take? The oil originates with the plants."
"Sounds like ground-breaking work."
"That's me, saving the world."
She touched his hand, and a tingle jetted up his spine. "Don't put yourself down because you're smart. Smart is sexy."
"Not as sexy as Max's eight hundred million."
"What, you're jealous? You were hoping to hook up with Bernie again?"
"Bernie? No." He shook his head to emphasize the point. "She and I haven't been a thing since…well, we were never a thing. All we had in common were hormones and proximity."
"I'm sure she'd love to hear you say that."
"Ask her. She was never in love with me, any more than I was with her."
The corners of her mouth turned down. "That's sad."
"I didn't think so at the time. I was getting laid on a regular basis. At eighteen, that's what mattered most."
His feeble attempt at a joke fell flat. She nodded, eyes distant. He wasn't even sure she'd heard him above the music. Which was good because, now that he thought of it, it didn't do much for his prospects with Cyn to dis his ex. Or to talk about how much sex they'd had. Not like Cyn didn't know, but
He scanned the table and his mouth watered, though whether from desire for Cyn or for food he couldn't say. The mingled scents of kielbasa, Swedish meatballs, and honey barbecued chicken wings made his stomach growl.
He went for the meat while she loaded up on fruit and crudités. She had always been careful about her weight, but he would have to get some protein into her. That plate of roughage was mostly water—it wouldn't keep the alcohol from heading straight to her bloodstream. The last thing he wanted was someone taking advantage of her.
Plates loaded up, they wandered back to their friends. Cyn stood next to Rick at a table, Trent at her other side. He speared a meatball and held it up to her mouth. "One bite won't hurt you."
She hesitated a moment before biting the meatball in half. He ate the other half, smiling at her. There was something decadent about feeding her, providing for her that way.
"Tell me about your books."
She rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't like them. College romance—very sexy and angsty."
"Based on your experience?"
"The angst part, maybe." She patted her lips with a napkin. They were red and kissable. Her gaze fell to her plate. "Truth is, I didn't date much in college. Hookups weren't my thing, and I didn't meet the right guy."
His heart somersaulted. He'd expected Cyn to get plenty of offers. It was stupid, but he was glad she hadn't been involved with many guys.
"I thought I met the right girl," he said, "but I was wrong."
"Emily?"
"We were together two years. In the end, we weren't compatible." I wanted to tie her up, and she wasn't into that.
"Sorry it didn't work out."
"I'm not." He bit his lip. The words had flown from his mouth the instant he thought them. How could he explain? If it had worked out with Emily, he wouldn't have this chance with Cyn. But what made him think he had a chance now? He'd never seen anyone more beautiful, not even on TV. Sure, she was being nice to him, but she'd been nice before. It didn't mean anything.
Get a grip, loser .
"Tell me about your thesis," she said.
He bit his cheeks. "You don't want to hear about that."
"I do!"
"You asked for it. Biologic alternatives to petrochemicals. Plastics made from plants."
"Sounds interesting. Fossil fuels won't last forever."
He couldn't tell if she really cared or was being polite.
"That's the idea," he said. "And plant-based products are potentially biodegradable. The challenge is, if we divert too much farmland away from the food supply, we could end up with a global food shortage. I'm exploring oceanic sources."
"You mean like algae?"
"One possibility." He smiled. Maybe she really was interested. "The fish oil pills people take? The oil originates with the plants."
"Sounds like ground-breaking work."
"That's me, saving the world."
She touched his hand, and a tingle jetted up his spine. "Don't put yourself down because you're smart. Smart is sexy."
"Not as sexy as Max's eight hundred million."
"What, you're jealous? You were hoping to hook up with Bernie again?"
"Bernie? No." He shook his head to emphasize the point. "She and I haven't been a thing since…well, we were never a thing. All we had in common were hormones and proximity."
"I'm sure she'd love to hear you say that."
"Ask her. She was never in love with me, any more than I was with her."
The corners of her mouth turned down. "That's sad."
"I didn't think so at the time. I was getting laid on a regular basis. At eighteen, that's what mattered most."
His feeble attempt at a joke fell flat. She nodded, eyes distant. He wasn't even sure she'd heard him above the music. Which was good because, now that he thought of it, it didn't do much for his prospects with Cyn to dis his ex. Or to talk about how much sex they'd had. Not like Cyn didn't know, but
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