Lost in Distraction (Lost #1)(3)
Author: B.J. Harvey

Lost in my musings, I hear him clear his throat to get my attention.

“Uh…so, would you like to pair up for the assignment?” he asks me. His low voice resonating through me.

Looking up at him, I’m suddenly caught in his amazing ice-blue eyes. They’re the lightest color of blue I’ve ever seen and are almost ethereal. Shaking my head slightly, I realize that he is still waiting for my answer.

“Elise. My name’s Elise, and I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to talk about the assignment with you.”

With a slight smirk, I catch him slowly scanning my body.

“I don’t think it could hurt at all, Elise.”

A gasp escapes my mouth at his outwardly flirtatious comment. Who is this guy, and why is he acting like he wants to know me intimately? I feel my cheeks heat up. Whoa, why am I blushing? I haven’t felt anything for over three years and suddenly this stranger has me feeling embarrassed? I’m supposed to be numb and broken. I have never been affected by a guy like this before. I watch the smirk on his face get bigger, almost breaking into a full on smile. I’m totally thrown by whatever the hell is happening between us and I don’t seem to be able to stop myself from reacting.

“Want to go grab a coffee and talk it over? The assignment, that is. Together, since you asked and all?” I wish I could just shut up! I pause and try to settle my breathing.

He leans in towards me, ever so slightly. “That sounds great. I know a great place down the street. Shall we go?”

He stands up in the aisle of the lecture theatre, gesturing with his arm for me to go ahead. I give a small smile and start walking towards the door. As I step past him he lightly puts his hand on the small of my back, sending a jolt through me. I don’t know what it is about this man, but he seems to have the ability to get me right where he wants me.

And that scares the hell out of me.

Chapter Two

I follow Braxton out of the building and we turn left towards a small café on the corner of campus. I’ve never been here before, but it seems nice and casual. No overtures of grandeur or class that you would expect at an Ivy League school. We head towards a window table with two chairs. Nice and public, I breathe a sigh of relief. I should be safe here.

He pulls out my chair for me. “Would you like a menu?”

“Just a coffee will be fine, thanks. I shouldn’t really stay too long,” I answer, secretly impressed at his chivalrous display. He quirks his head to look at me and I suddenly feel self-conscious. It’s like this guy can see right through my act and it’s rather unnerving.

With a sigh and slight tone of disappointment, he asks, “What kind of coffee would you like?”

“A vanilla latte would be great, thanks,” I respond a bit too cheerfully. He gives me a knowing smile as he turns around and makes his way to the counter.

What is with this guy? How can a total stranger have such an effect on me. That smirk of his should be outlawed because I swear it is the work of the devil. I’m sure panties drop all around campus with just that one look.

He returns a short time later with two coffees and some biscotti. “Thank you,” I murmur. After putting my mandatory three sugars in my coffee, I glance up at him expectantly.

He sighs at me again, like I’m making this hard for him or something. “So, is this your first week here?”

“Mmm hmm,” I mutter. Damn, this is a good coffee.

“How are you finding it?”

“Good, so far. It’s totally different from high school.”

Wow. I think I’ve said more in the past five minutes that I’ve said to anyone in weeks and I only met this guy an hour ago! How did he do that?

We talk solidly for the next half an hour and the conversation seems to flow easily. It’s only when he receives a phone call that I stop and realize the time. We haven’t been talking about anything specific and we definitely haven’t started on the assignment, our supposed reason for the coffee.

“I’m sorry,” he says before taking the call. He walks away from the table, turning his back to me.

I can’t help but check out his profile. He’s wearing long dirty denim jeans that fit him way too well, sitting low on his waist, tighter around the hips and butt then loosening up down the leg and finished off with what look like a pair of chunky army boots. He almost looks too casual for campus, but on him it works. Looking back up I realize I definitely can’t complain about his ass—that thing looks firm enough to break glass!

I may be emotionally damaged, but I’m not completely immune.

Of all the times to get a phone call, it has to be when I finally have Elise talking.

All innocent banter and basic information sharing, but I’m starting to build a rapport. So far she’s told me about her old high school and how she is living in a one bedroom apartment off campus in a secure building which definitely makes my job of keeping her safe a little bit easier. Of course I know the facts of her life from her file, but I find myself genuinely interested in what she’s saying. I want to know what makes this girl tick, how being made an orphan at fifteen has affected her, but at the same time I also need to find out if she has any idea of the danger she may be facing.

The phone call is from my boss, wanting to know if I’ve made contact with the target. After a short replay of the morning’s events, we end the call quickly. I turn back towards the table and catch her quickly darting her eyes up to my face. I can’t hold in my grin at the fact that I totally just caught her looking at my ass. It seems she might not be as closed off as I thought.

“Sorry about that,” I say, taking my seat.

“That’s okay, but I really need to get going now.” I watch as she grabs her bag from the floor.

“So, can I get your number?” I ask.

Elise hesitates and I can tell she isn’t exactly comfortable giving it to me.

“You know, for the project and all,” I quickly reply, trying not to make it obvious that I want to see her again. This level of attraction is all new to me.

“Sure. I suppose we’re going to need to catch up at some point, maybe to actually talk about the assignment this time,” she says with a small smile.

“Great.” I hand her my phone so she can enter her number, then she hands hers over to me so I can reciprocate.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Braxton,” she says, turning towards the door.

“Wait, can I walk you to your next class?” I ask, sounding like an overeager puppy.