“I don't want any part of this. The whole thing kinda freaked me out. I'm sure girls always do what you tell them because you're hot, Brent, but I'm just not that interested."His head perked up with a wide smiled. "You think I'm hot?”

“I leaned against Brent, resting my forehead against his cheek, but jerked back. "Brent you're hot."Brent grinned lazily and puffed up his chest. "Thank you. It's a burden I must bear.”

“How did I dance with a guy who's never heard of feminism?""I've heard of it, but that doesn't mean a woman can do everything a man can do," he goaded. I went to smack him on the back of his head, but he ducked with a snicker."I'm learning," he informed me. "How did I ever consider dating such a violent girl?""We're both lucky we got out early before we really knew each other.""Oh yes, good thing neither one of is still interested in the other," Brent said with a playful grin.”

“A few minutes after discovering we had a goal but no plan, Brent was laughing heartily at a pathetic joke I had made. It reminded me of the firstday on campus when I had thought his laughter sounded like a melody. It did now, even more so. It was music, beautiful, in a manly way, like asensual, slow jazz. I loved jazz.“Jazz, huh?” Brent asked, his voice suddenly husky.“Uh . . . what?”“My laugh reminds you of jazz? Is there anything about me you don’t find attractive?” He rubbed his hand over his lips trying to cover his smirk.“So tell me, how much do you love jazz?”I’m sure my face was pinker than the inside of a watermelon. “I didn’t say any of that.”“You didn’t have to say it, Yara, I could hear it.” Brent tapped the side of his head. “I can hear your thoughts.”“You’re not serious.”“Oh, but I am,” he said, completely straight-faced.”

“I stopped at a red light, turned my head, and allowed myself to enjoy the handsomeness that was Brent.He noticed my staring and asked, "What?""As if you don't know. You're not the type of guy that a girl gets tired of looking at.""Oh. Well in that case, you're welcome to look all you want," he said and gestured to himself. "You're allowed to touch, too." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.I lowered my voice into its sexy-husky range. "I was hoping you'd say that." With my flirtiest look on my face, I rubbed my hand slowly up his arm and then pinched him firmly on the shoulder."Ow!" Brent rubbed his shoulder and grinned. "Not what I had in mind!”

“Want to talk about it?" I asked gently.He smirked at me. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a guy. We don't do that." My nose scrunched up in confusion. "We don't discuss our feelings.""That's a relief; I don't want to talk about it either.”

“Right,” I fumed, my index finger poking him in thechest. “So we’re even then. My kiss didn’t count because itwas an accident and yours didn’t count because it wasstrictly for medical purposes. Neither of them counted askisses.”“Would you have wanted them to?” Brent demandedsuddenly, bending his neck so he whispered it in my ear”