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“I guess I could ask the same. Architecture major?”
“Touché. Yeah. Kinda always loved architecture. Since I was a little troublemaker.”
I laugh. “So you were building masterpieces with Lincoln Logs and Legos?”
“You know it. How about you?” he asks.
I frown as I break eye contact with Damien. “Well, my dad and I used to go look at new builds and buildings around the city. He would take me to new homes being built and we would gather all the floor plans so I could use them as inspiration. I would draw floor plans everywhere I could.”
His face falls slightly. “Was? Is he not anymore?”
“He’s dead. So, no. Not anymore.” I feel the emotion starting to ball up in my throat.
Damien’s mouth forms an “o” and I see him instantly regret his line of questioning. “I’m so sorry, Rory. I-I didn’t mean …”
“No, no. It’s okay. You had no way of knowing. It happened quite a while ago. Almost ten years ago.” My voice is hoarse with emotion.
“Well, I don’t think time really matters. He’s your father,” he says softly.
We walk silently until we come to my dorm. “Are you staying on campus?” I ask him.
“I am not. I actually live off campus. I work full-time while I try to get my degree.” He slips his hands into his pockets.
I raise a curious brow. “Really? That has to be hard. What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a mechanic.” I still at his words. He looks at me puzzled for a moment. “You okay, Rory?”
“M-My dad was a mechanic. Sorry,” I quickly add.
“Nothing to be sorry about.” He frowns. “So, your dad worked on cars?”
I nod. “Yeah. He loved them. Tried teaching me what he could, but some things stuck, some things didn’t.”
“What do you mean?” He tilts his head to the side.
“I can change the oil on a car, but I couldn’t tell you anything about the car I’m working on.” I laugh.
He lets out a chuckle, and we walk silently for a moment until I break it.
“So you love cars?” I tilt my head. I can see the red in his cheeks.
“Uh, yeah. I do. My family owns a few shops in Chicago. I’m sorta branching out from the family business by going into architecture.” He shrugs.
“What a rebel,” I smirk.
“I like to live on the wild side. Hey, uh, speaking of wild side. Would you like to go out with me Friday? There are some parties on Greek Row, or we could hit the bar.”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously.
My heart feels like it’s going to bust through my rib cage. I can’t believe he’s really asking me out. He is this hot-as-fuck guy and I’m just … me.
He stammers “I mean, sorry. That was stupid for me to ask. You just met me?—”
“I’d really like to,” I cut him off with a beaming grin.
His face breaks out in a smile. “Yeah? Awesome. Then I’ll text you later. Have a good night, Rory,” he whispers into my ear.
He leans in and kisses my cheek, and I let out a soft gasp. Then he pulls back and gives me one of his killer smiles before sauntering off.