Page 18 of Governor

Carter’s still looking at the pictures. “Not your fault.” He finally turns, but doesn’t meet my gaze. “Let’s go eat.”

I follow him out of our room and wonder what other heartache the man has experienced in his life. Only eight years older than me, and he’s already lived a lifetime.

Whereas I’m still feeling like I’m nowhere close to getting my shit together.

I do know that, when I grow up, I want to be like Carter.

Chapter Six

I fall in love with Susannah Joleen Evans the first day we meet, on our first day of classes. Not some love at first sight bullshit because of her looks, either. Although, yes, I think she’s beautiful.

That’s not what seals my fate.

We share a class, the three of us. Florida Politics & Government. I don’t know it at the time, but Susa is working on a mass com major with a poli sci minor, with her eye on a Stetson law degree. Carter and I have two classes together this semester, this one, and Introduction to the Social Sciences.

This one is a Monday-Wednesday-Friday morning class that starts at nine. When Carter and I arrive about twenty minutes before the first class is scheduled to begin on Monday, we practically have our choice of seating. Carter chooses a desk in the back of the room, the desk closest to the far corner. Then he moves his desk so it’s positioned against the wall. He even angles it so it’s facing out toward the room.

When he spots me watching him, he shrugs. “Don’t like sitting with my back to a room or a door. Force of habit.”

I don’t ask because I more than suspect it has something to do with his time in the Army, the scars covering his back like a topographical map of the Andes, and his nightmares. Friday night’s dinner pops into mind, how he specifically requested the booth in back after glancing around the restaurant, and had sat facing the room.

But since I would prefer to sit next to him, I take the desk next to him, to his right and between him and the door. I slide it back against the wall and a little closer to him so we can more easily talk.

She walks in about five minutes later and I notice her immediately. She briefly pauses in the doorway and scans the room, no hesitation in her manner when she heads directly for where Carter and I are sitting. And it’s not that there are no other seats—the room’s still over half empty.

Yet she offers us a smile as she approaches. “Mind if I sit here?” she points to the desk that would be in front of Carter if he hadn’t moved his desk all the way into the corner. Now, that desk is sort of positioned on his left side.

Blue eyes that look like they could flash-freeze you, or form a warm, sunny summer sky. Her longish brown hair is pulled back at the nape of her neck with an elastic band in a casual ponytail. Jeans and a loose blouse can’t hide the fact that the watch on her wrist is likely worth more than my car and Carter’s put together. Not flashy, but definitely money. Nails not so long they’ll slow her typing tip long, graceful fingers, and are perfectly coated in a shimmery teal blue. Subtle makeup on a face that doesn’t need it.

Carter shrugs, and something in my heart pulls tight and makes me nod, too. Mostly because Carter’s nodded, but also because there’s something…confident about her. In a quiet way, though, reminding me a lot of Carter.

“Thanks.” Before she unshoulders her backpack she grabs the desk and angles it the way Carter did, parallel to his and backed against the wall.

Maybe it’s my imagination, but while Carter watches her it almost seems like a dark cloud flits across his face, shadowing his eyes for the briefest moment. As he glances my way again he quickly schools his features.

She produces a spiral notebook and a tablet from her backpack, along with the course’s main textbook. Instead of chatting non-stop with us like I thought she might, she takes out a pen and opens the text, skimming through it.

Carter and I had been discussing what to make for dinner. Since he’s offered to teach me how to cook I’m not stupid enough to turn him down. Especially after the weekend’s breakfast offerings.

The other guys in our quad pod are now looking at him like he’s a god.

We return to our discussion. Carter had been in the middle of describing a Greek dish to me that sounded delicious. My mother never offered to teach me how to cook. Any time I asked to help, she ran me out of the kitchen.

I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t starved for some positive attention, because I was. Even if it means following my older roommate around like a needy puppy.

I’ll take it. Not like Carter or I have girlfriends or jobs. We’re both full-time students with goals, and the more time I spend with the man, the more I like him. The more I feel…drawn to his calm nature. Like the world could be ending and he wouldn’t break a sweat.

I felt like that even before I learned he was a literal hero.

I don’t think the woman is paying either of us any attention when she speaks five minutes later. “My dolmades will knock your socks off.”

I stare at her. “Pardon?”

Carter’s silently watching her again.

She doesn’t look our way. “Dolmades. That’s what you’re talking about making, right? And I make a mean tzatziki sauce.” She finally glances at me with those incredible blue eyes before her gaze lands on Carter. “You make your moussaka, I’ll make the rest and provide the kitchen and the groceries. Tonight?”

I am incapable of letting the growing, tense silence sit for too long and I don’t even know why. “You don’t even know us. Why do you want to cook with us?”