Page 13 of Forever Only Once
“We’re pretty much separate entities who share the business. Back in the day when we first started, we needed to share. Now, we’re moving in different directions.” He frowned. “And I have no idea why I’m telling you all of this. I haven’t even told my family that.”
“Maybe because we are both sitting with a stranger accidentally? I guess it gives us both an air of mystery.” We smiled at one another, and I relaxed again.
“So, what is it that you do?” Cross asked. “And then I’m going to ask you why you were here on a blind date, if you don’t mind.”
I winced. “Let’s not talk about the latter subject. Maybe. Anyway, as to your first question, I’m a math professor at UB.”
“Really?” he asked, and I scowled. “Why did you say it like that? Is it because I’m a woman?”
“No, not at all. It’s because you’re so young. Back when I was in college, all of my math professors were old men with beards and tweed jackets, wearing corduroy pants that didn’t quite fit.”
I laughed at the image, shaking my head. “A few of my professors were like that, too. There’s a new way though, women in STEM and all that.”
“Oh, I totally believe it. Half of my architecture classes were full of women back when I was in school. Some of the guys didn’t like that. Because, apparently, architecture and math and all of that should be all men, at least according to them.”
“You’re literally preaching to the choir right now,” I said, snorting.
“I guess I am. So, what do you teach?”
“This semester, I’m only teaching one course. It’s entry-level calculus. It’s mostly the students who need it on their transcripts to get into other programs. Out of everyone in my class, there’s probably only one math major. I’m not teaching any grad courses right now, though, because I’m doing a research semester.”
“That’s amazing. I was really good at math, but once I got past a few of the theoretical concepts? It just wasn’t my thing.”
“You work with math every day. But then you also work with your hands. You’d probably be more on the applied side.”
My gaze trailed down. I noticed the scars on his knuckles, and exactly how big his hands were, and I swallowed hard.
Or, apparently, four sips of my drink were enough for me.
Cross noticed the way my gaze fell, and he raised a brow but didn’t smirk at me. Instead, he moved the conversation along. I still had no idea why I was sitting here with a man I didn’t know.
“So, you were supposed to be on a blind date. Who was he?” Cross asked.
I shook my head. “Does it matter?”
“If you’re going on another date with him, it could matter.”
“Not another. He didn’t make it to this one.” Shame covered me, and I shook my head. “His daughter went in to get her appendix removed. That’s an actual reason for him not to come. A good one. Not an excuse. Now I feel horrible for even commenting on it.”
Cross reached out and gripped my hand slightly before letting go. My skin burned at the contact, and I wanted more. What was wrong with me? I didn’t even know this man. This wasn’t like me. Still, all I wanted to do was lean forward and touch him again.
I’d clearly lost my senses.
“Anyway, I am on a blind date because I wanted to be.” I raised my chin. “Is that a problem?” I asked, knowing I sounded a little bit defensive. Fine, a lot defensive.
“Not a problem at all. And I’m not going to give you a line and ask what a pretty girl like you is doing on a blind date or any crap like that. Considering that it’s been way too damn long since I’ve been on a date myself…I don’t know. Maybe I’d be up for a blind date, too.” He frowned. “No, not given who my brothers would pick. Maybe my sister.”
I leaned forward, interested. “I will pass over the whole not dating for a while thing and ask about your family. How many brothers? And a sister?”
“I have three brothers and a baby sister.”
His eyes warmed as he talked about them, especially his sister, and I smiled. “Let me guess. Your baby sister is not a baby anymore?”
Cross laughed, a deep chuckle that went straight through me and did horrible things to my hormones. “No, she’s not a baby anymore. In fact, she has a husband and is all happy and in matrimonial bliss. She would probably be the only one I’d let set me up with someone, but then again, I’m not a hundred percent sure I’d trust her decision with those rose-colored glasses.”
“It’s always the married ones who want to set you up. They know just the person.”
“And the person who set you up? Is she married?”