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bends to pick it up as his friends point and laugh.
    For the first time all night, there’s a long silence between us, but it’s not because we’ve run out of things to say. It feels as though the conversation has barely started.
    “I should probably go,” Jenna says, looking around the bar. It’s gotten even more crowded while we’ve been sitting here.
    I don’t want her to leave, but I know it’s not right to ask her to stay. Not when I shouldn’t take things any further than this table.
    “Aw, come on, it’s Saturday night,” Nina says, looking over at us with raised eyebrows.
    “I have a class in the morning,” Jenna says.
    “You have ballet on a Sunday?”
    “African dance,” she says. She looks at us and shrugs. “I like to branch out.”
    Nina sits up and reaches for her bag. “I’ll run you home.”
    It feels like Jenna is going to walk out of here and things are going to be like they’ve always been between us—a brief nod in the hallway, or a ‘thank you’ when I hold a door open. I know I shouldn’t encourage her, but I don’t want that back. “You guys should stay,” I say quickly. “I can take Jenna. I’ve only had one beer the whole time we’ve been sitting here.”
    Jenna hesitates. “Are you sure?”
    No. I’m not sure at all. “It makes sense, we live in the same place. As long as you don’t mind riding on the back of my bike.”
    “No,” she says with a small smile. “I don’t.”
    “Great!” Mitch says, leaning back into Nina. “You two kids run along.”
    We grab our stuff and wave goodbye. The air outside is still warm as bathwater as the bugs hurl themselves at the lights over the doorway. One thing I could get used to, is a warm Texas night. It’s never warm at night at home. The minute the fog rolls in off the ocean it feels like winter, even in July.
    “Sort of feels like a set-up, doesn’t it?” Jenna says as we walk toward my bike.
    I wonder if she thinks I had something to do with it. “If I didn’t know better.”
    “I swear I didn’t know it was you when Nina invited me,” she says, kicking at the gravel in the parking lot.
    “Disappointed?”
    “No,” Jenna says, glancing at me. “Not at all.”
    I feel a jolt roll through my body as she looks up at me with those big brown eyes.
    “Good.” I pull my backpack off my shoulder. “Can you hold this for me? That way it’s easier for you to hang on.”
    “Sure,” she says, her arm bending as I hand it to her. “What have you got in here?”
    “Books.”
    “Ah, a scholar athlete,” she jokes, slinging it on her back.
    “I have to be if I want to keep my scholarship.” I sit on the bike and flip the kickstand up. “Hang on a second while I start it.” I flip the switch and jump on the starter with my right foot as it roars to life loudly enough that several guys at the front of the bar look over. “Okay,” I say, steadying the bike with both feet. “Can you make it?”
    Jenna’s wearing tiny little heeled boots and tight black pants, but she straddles the bike like she’s been doing it all her life. I didn’t anticipate the feelings that would rush through me as she presses her body against my back. It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to someone, it takes me a few seconds to regain my composure enough to set the bike in motion.
    As I pull out of the parking spot, Jenna puts her arms around my waist, her hands on either side of my abs. Without thinking, I reach down and touch her hand on my stomach and she turns her head and rests one cheek against my upper back. Her thighs press against mine with every turn. I swallow hard at the feel of her body against mine and try to remind myself that this is only a ride home. I can’t get involved with Jenna—not tonight and not ever.
    We turn onto the two-lane road that passes for a highway in this part of Texas and I force myself to keep the speed down, as much to make the ride last longer as to keep us both safe. I’ve