“This time, I know all of his tricks: dimples, divots, smiles, and cute eye-crinkle things. Bring it on.”

“Tatooine, huh? So awesome you know Star Wars facts,” he adds nodding. “Do you ever watch the animated stuff?” Grin. Grin. Grin. I'm seriously at risk of an old-style faint. Holy-WTHECK? My neck and cheeks are volcano-hot. My entire chest swarms with an uncontrollable butterfly attack. Butterfly riot. Butterfly massacre. Person slaughtered: Me. Method used: Dimple. The guy has a dimple. Of course he does. To match the Hollywood chin divot. To make the lump on my forehead pound even harder. Points for Gray Porter: 3,000,000-bajallion, trillion to the millionth power.”

“As awkward as this moment is, I'm intrigued with the possibilities of what this could mean. Gray Porter holding up my bangs while I memorize the depth of his chin divot ranks at the top of my things-that-have-overly-surprised me list! I don't really have such a list. But when I get home, I'm making one.”

“I think I'm losing control all over again. This is because I've registered two things above and beyond his hypnotic green eyes and rock star hot voice. 1. His perfectly square chin has one of those little divots dead center. 2. He's taller, and wider across the shoulders than I'd thought. My heart ramps into some sort of a private hailstorm. My list won't stop. 3. His hair is still shower damp. It's made up of little inky-black curls—an amazing amount of them. 4. The dumb eyes aren't simply green. They're like an exploded rainbow of greens and gold and browns. On closer inspection, he's…he's simply overall amazing and…I'll just say it again: HOLY. HOLY. WOW.”

“Is this a habit of yours?” he asks. “What?” “Dropping stuff whenever you first see me? It's kind of cute. Flattering,” he adds, straightening while easily holding all of my stuff in his giant arms. I've recovered enough to roll my eyes. “Maybe the habit is connected to your urge to rifle through my private things every time you see me?” “It's possible. Your stuff is so randomly interesting.” He eyes my science kit and then scans through the pile of papers in his hands. “You got any other lists that need checking off? College tuition aside, I'm also trying to save for a new car.” He laughs.”

“Person Slaughtered: Me.Method used: Dimple.”

“We need to meet and flesh out the details of our... you know... whatever. I don't know what to call it. Our contract.""I was thinking the same thing. But can we call it our epic summer romance? Contract sounds so stuffy." He smiles again.”