Claire opened her front door as someone hit the buzzer for the ninth time in a row. She wasn’t necessarily a violent person, but at that moment she could have flattened whoever was stupid enough to wake her up. It was a Sunday for crying out loud!

    “What is it?” she grumbled rudely, still rubbing the sleep from her tired eyes. She’d wholly expected a lost delivery man or a Jehovah’s Witness, not an overbearing student that she was seriously starting to believe was stalking her. Claire stared up at Daniel, simultaneously wanting to punch him and drag him inside out of the cold. As usual, the man was pristine, dressed in a simple white and blue striped sweater and dark jeans. His hair was mussed and wet, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower and had forgotten to comb it, the dark tendrils curling stubbornly against his forehead. He held his hand outstretched, baring a small wicker basket covered in a white cloth. She blinked up at him, waiting for him to hit her with some snappy retort when she finally realized he was staring at her, his eyes wide with what she could only guess was surprise. In her mad dash to answer the door, she’d forgotten that she was dressed only in a thin camisole and a pair of sleeping shorts. She was a complete and utter mess, her hair was all over her head, there were holes in her top and the shorts just barely covered her pudge. She must have looked like a psychopath! Without thinking, she slammed the door shut in his face and dove for her robe. When she opened it again he was still standing there, an uncharacteristic blush on his face. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, tightening the belt around her waist. He looked contrite as he ran an idle hand through his hair.

    “I came to apologize for what happened. I brought you breakfast,” he said, once again extending the basket. Claire bit back a groan as she recalled the previous night. It was all still so vivid in her mind, his scent as he leaned over her, the brush of his skin against her own. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d infiltrated her dreams, showing her countless scenarios in which they could be together happily without anyones interference. Of a happily ever after she couldn’t begin to fathom, that always ended in tragedy. What could she do? When even her subconscious knew fooling around with Daniel was a bad idea? If there was one thing she could truly say, her time spent with him the night before had succeeded in confirming her suspicions; she was more than just physically attracted to him. She was actually starting to…like him.

    “You don’t have to apologize. And you shouldn’t be here, it isn’t proper,” she said, clearing to break the silence between them. Her entire body was hot, despite the morning chill, and that heat was attributed solely to the man standing before her. He watched her inquisitively, eyeing her from head to toe.

    “What I did last night wasn’t proper,” he said. Daniel met her gaze, his eyes determined as his grip tightened on the basket. His voice was rife with conviction and she had to admit it startled her. “I’m embarrassed, Professor. Let me make it up to you.”

    “There’s nothing to make up, honestly,” she said, glancing past him at her tiny, shared, front yard. The flowers were blooming early, the little sprouts her landlord had planted already poking their heads through the soil. Any minute now her neighbors would be heading out to water the seedlings and feed their yappy little Chihuahua and the last thing she needed was their noses in her business. It was bad enough that he’d dropped her off the night before and refused to leave until she’d made it safely inside. They’d watched him through the slits in their mini-blinds as he purposefully put on a show for them, walking her to her door and kissing the back of her hand–she’d be the talk of the neighborhood for months!

    “Yes, there is. Look, I’m not that type of man and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. Okay, so perhaps she wasn’t so much worried about what her neighbors thought, but she couldn’t help but wonder what he thought. What he thought about being with an older woman, even though it was completely out of the question, some foreign part of her wanted to know if he’d at least given it serious thought. But what did it matter?!

    “I understand, Daniel–!”

    “Then let me make it up to you,” he cut her off. His voice was desperate, despite the apology written in his eyes. She wasn’t used to him being serious about much of anything, but he really wasn’t going to let this go. He was so repentant it was almost comical. Claire took another look around, worrying her bottom lip as she weighed her options. She knew she really shouldn’t give him another excuse to , nor should she encourage him especially after last night, but she couldn’t help herself. “Give me fifteen minutes. We can eat breakfast, I’ll grovel at your feet and then I’ll be out of your hair,” he said and she sighed.

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