Page 94 of The Fall Classic

My nostrils flare, and the image of shaking this dweeb professor fills my mind. “I’m sorry. What does this mean for the class?”

“It was one assignment. I’ll have to adjust to the idea of my first B.”

The perfectionist in me knows exactly how badly that must hurt. And the wannabe boyfriend in me aches that I won’t be here to help. “You have to take care of yourself. If you don’t, it’ll happen again.”

“You’re right. But Olivia’s been hired to help on the truck, so there won’t be another problem.” She smiles and sits up. “It’ll all be fine.”

I can’t tell if she’s living in optimism or denial. I keep my eyes on her long enough to see her tuck back into her meal, the matter seemingly settled.

I hope so.

***

After we eat breakfast, we stand side by side, looking at the wall of empty shelves in front of us. “How do you organize your books?” I ask, holding a dusty boxed series called The Belgariad. “Alphabetically by author? Color? Mood?”

“By wherever I put it,” she says, looking up at me with an almost guilty smile.

I tut but can’t not smile back. “Georgie, Georgie, Georgie. What am I gonna do with you?”

Her eyes jump between mine, and then—for a split second—they flit down to my lips and back up.

Georgie looked at my lips.

Well, that settles it.

I lean closer.

She raises on her tiptoes.

Her eyes flutter closed.

Her head starts pulling back⁠—

And she throws her arm up, hitting my nose with her elbow as she sneezes into the crook of her arm.

“Oof,” I say.

“I AM SO SORRY!” Georgie cries, sniffing and taking my face in her hands, even though I’m currently rubbing my nose with my palm. “It was the dust! I’m such a slob, Logan. I’m sorry. If I dusted more, this never would have happened.”

With my face in her palms, her eyes are searching, trying to find exactly how much damage she did (none, except for my pride).

“I’m fine. I didn’t get to kiss you like I wanted, but my nose is fine.”

She grins that big dimpled grin, brings my face down to hers, and kisses the tip of my nose. “There,” she says. “All better.”

“I take an elbow to the face and can’t even get a real kiss?”

She lets go and then leans her head against my shoulder. “You said you were coming back after you leave, right?”

“I am.”

She pauses before saying, “You can claim that kiss the second you get back.”

“The very first second?”

“That’s the one,” she says, sounding out of breath in a way that makes my pulse go crazy.

“I might throw a couple of games⁠—”