Page 58 of Top Shelf

My breath doesn’t catch.

There’s no hum beneath my skin.

No gravity pulling me closer.

Just a guy, mostly naked, smiling like I should be impressed.

“Damn. Didn’t know I was getting ambushed by the hottest intern on staff.”

I roll my eyes, ignoring the fact that my lip hitches ever so slightly at his flirting. I might not be attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the compliment. The effort he is putting in, even if it does come with a side of uncomfortableness. That’s just my trauma speaking. Trauma I need to learn to get over if I ever want to have a normal dating life.

“I thought everyone was gone.”

“Medical,” he explains, tapping his shoulder where a bruise is blooming. There are minor nicks along his arms and across his face. “Turns out getting body-checked into the glass warrants a full physical.”

I wince. “It looked…rough.”

“Yeah, trust me, it felt worse.” He smirks. “You here to kiss it better?”

His sudden change in topic gets a surprised laugh out of me. “Not even a little bit.”

Evans chuckles, the sound easy. Unbothered.

That’s the thing about him. He’s always smooth, always joking. The guy people gravitate toward. Friendly. Funny. Easy on the eyes. And over the past week, I’ve been slowly getting to know him. Not by choice exactly, but he’s persistent. Frequently striking up a conversation with me. Ensuring he greets me every morning when I arrive. Sending me the occasional wink or smirk from across the locker room.

Even if we cross paths on campus, he’s always got a grin for me, or a wave, or some half-charming, half-ridiculous line ready to go. He talks to me about all sorts of random things—what classes he’s failing, what raging party he attended last weekend, which teammate has the worst pre-game rituals.

And every single conversation, without fail, ends the same way. “So when are you gonna let me take you out?” Or, “Tell mewhat kind of food you like, so I know where to book our first date.” Or my personal favorite, “One dinner. If you hate me after, I’ll never flirt again.”

He says it all with a wink, like it’s a joke, but I’m pretty sure he’s being serious. I laugh it off anyway, brushing his probing aside. It’s easier that way. Less awkward. It saves me from having to explain to him that I haven’t been on a date since high school, which inevitably leads to the invariablewhy, and how the hell am I supposed to answer that? That explanation is not pre-first-date appropriate.

Maybe I should just say yes.

Test the waters.

He seems relatively harmless, after all. However, something holds me back. Fear. Anxiety. This gut instinct that I just don’t feel that way about him and shouldn’t lead him on.

“How about brightening my day by hanging out with me after you’re done here?”

And there’s the inevitable question…

For the first time, I hesitate. I give it a genuine moment of consideration until fear closes my throat over and I shake my head.

“Sorry,” I croak, voice tight. “I have assignments I need to catch up on.”

“Damn, again?” he says with a teasing sigh. “You’re killing me, Winslow.”

I laugh, but it’s more forced this time.

“One day, I’m going to wear you down.” He throws it down like a challenge as he backs away, pointing a finger in my direction.

The distance helps to calm my racing heart. Helps my thoughts to smooth out so I can think rationally. So I can remind myself that I’m in control. That he’s just joking around. There’s no pressure. No reason to panic.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He chuckles before ducking around the side of the lockers. I can hear him at his locker, likely getting changed, so I stay rooted by the door.

“What’s the deal with you and Lucian?” I ask, leaning my back against the locker room door and raising my voice to ensure he can hear me. It’s a question I shouldn’t be asking, but color me curious.