The man across from me is clearly lost in thought; he hasn't even put his name on his paper. I lean forward and whisper to him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" I ask. He jumps a bit, then looks at me funny.

"Huh?" he's confused. Yup, definitely lost.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"What's that?" I smile.

"It's basically just 'what's on your mind'."

"Oh." I look at him expectantly. "I'm just thinking." I raise an eyebrow.

"About?" He blushes. That's new!

"Uh… Nothing." I've never heard him stutter before! His face is bright red, but his eyes are a confusing swirl of emotions. There's the glimmer he gets when he's happy or excited or laughing, but there's also a fire burning back there. I've only ever seen that fire when he's just come off the football field.

We're sitting across from each other at a table in one of the local restaurants. The bits and pieces of a research paper are spread across the table, and two copies of the novel Grendel lie open on the table, our phones being used as bookmarks.

Just then the waitress comes over to our table to tell us that the restaurant is closing. Surprisingly enough, it's already 10:30. We thank her, apologize for staying so late, and pack up our books and papers. As we walk out the door, I zip up my jacket, because I know it's going to be a cold walk home.

"Hey, do you want a ride?" the man asks. I shake my head.

"I can walk." Now it's his turn to shake his head.

"Nah, it's too cold out. Where do you live?" I point to the mountain in the middle distance. It's a 30 minute walk from here to the base, then another 25-30 to reach my house. If I walk fast. Without bags. Or ice. Or in the dark. Without those things, it's about an hour's walk.

With them, it's closer to an hour and a half, even two hours.

"Halfway up that mountain."

"No way." He stops. I look at him, my eyes daring him to continue. "I won't let you do that. "

"Why not?"

"I…. Well, I…. Erm….. It's….." He's struggling to find the words he needs. He spins around, running his hand through his hair in frustration. When he turns back, I can see that the fire is back, and it's getting brighter and brighter.

"Oh, fuck it," he says and steps towards me.

He puts both hands on either side of my face and pulls me to him.

Then he kisses me.

For an instant, I'm completely frozen with shock. Then my heart leaps, and I snake my arms up around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he slides one hand down to my waist and pulls me even closer.

After a bit, we have to stop for breath, and I take longer than he does to catch it.

"What was that?" I ask, breathless.

"Call it temporary insanity." He clearly thinks I didn't like it. As he turns to go, I grab his wrist, spin him, and kiss him again. His shock is plain, and then his lips soften and he smiles.

When we break again, he continues to hold me to him and asks,

"So, how about that ride?" I laugh, he grins, and he helps me up into the cabin of his big, beautiful truck. As we pull up to my house forty minutes later, he kisses me again, and I'm grinning like a fool as I run up the stairs. I reach the top, and turn to wave. He flashes the lights, and we go our separate ways.

But that's ok.

I'll see him tomorrow.