Above & Beyond ✔

14. Tell Me This is a Dream

It was my first day of final exams, and I felt like doing something different today. Instead of sitting alone in the kitchen for my morning coffee, I went straight to the campus coffeehouse. Settling in a cozy spot with my freshly-brewed coffee while doing a quick review before the test sounded like a plan.

Unlike the typical Monday morning, the coffeehouse was busy. It seemed like I wasn't the only genius who came up with the idea. That was how I ended up sitting at a tall table next to the coffee shop entrance. The sound of the door sliding back and forth along its track rail every few minutes was my true companion while enjoying my drink. So much for being cozy.

After getting off the phone call with my mom, I pulled my notebook out of my bag. I couldn't say I was fully prepared this time since I'd been so caught up in my life drama. Preparing for my exams was another level of torture.

I was busy turning pages of my lecture notes, making sure I covered all the bases when a deep masculine voice distracted my focus. "Did you know that reading your notes just before the test starts might increase anxiety?"

I cocked my head to the side, and there was Blake Andrew, leaning back on the wall next to my table, both hands inside his trouser pockets. He was wearing a black dress shirt and grey trousers today. His hair wasn't neatly pulled back like the first day I bumped into him, which gave it more volume this time. I wonder how it felt running my fingers slowly through that dark wavy hair.

"Well..." I clear my throat. "A good amount of anxiety can be useful to keep us excited."

"You need a boost to keep yourself excited?" The corner of his lips twitched with amusement.

"Excited about the test that is. I mean stimulated. Or motivated," I corrected myself. "A little boost might come in handy, yes."

"I see." He chuckled. "Well, I hope I'm not interrupting your excitement then."

"No, of course not," I replied a little too fast; I could mentally punch myself now. "I've got my little friend here" —I picked my paper cup and swayed it gently— "which gives enough caffeine boost to get through the day."

"Good," he said while his eyes never left my face, making me feel hot inside.

I looked away and took a few sips from my cup, but gulping the liquid down my throat was becoming a hard task at the moment.

He's my freaking professor. Gulp.

He's engaged. Gulp.

He's off-limit. Gulp.

"So, how do you like your little friend? Wait, let me guess. Medium roast with cream and one sugar?" he speculated. Still leaning back, he crossed one leg over the other.

I shook my head while smiling triumphantly. "Nope. Just plain black."

He raised his eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit too bold? You don't strike me as the type."

Intrigued by his remarks, I swiveled on my stool to face him. "And what type am I, If I may ask?"

He squinted his eyes as he bit his lower lip, prompting me to look away. It was too distracting to see. "I think you're more of a latte person."

"Meaning?"

"Lovable, friendly, sociable, people-pleaser, a little bit reserved, but you can be surprisingly witty when needed." He smirked. "Did I get the description right?"

"Now I'm wondering if I've been drinking the wrong coffee all these years."

Instead of replying, he barked his deep laugh. The sound caressed my ears pleasantly. Hell, since when had I found a laugh so sexy?