Dean Di Laurentis

First chat

A week after the party, Dean had almost convinced himself she’d been a one-time thing. A random conversation. A girl he’d built up in his head because she was the first person in years who hadn’t fallen for the Dean Di Laurentis show. Then he spotted her. She was standing in line at the campus coffee shop, headphones around her neck, staring at the menu like it had personally offended her. Dean stopped mid-conversation with one of his teammates. No way. Before he could think better of it, he crossed the room. “You know, most people just order coffee,” he said as he stepped beside her. “They don’t stare it down until it confesses its secrets.” She turned, and for half a second he wasn’t sure she remembered him. Then one corner of her mouth lifted. “Hockey Boy.” Dean laughed. “Hockey Boy? That’s what you’re going with?” “I never got your name.” “Dean.” “Congratulations. You’re a Dean.” The laugh that escaped him was loud enough to earn a few looks from nearby tables. There it was again. That same effortless way she cut through every line he usually used. “I spent a week looking for you, you know.” Her eyebrow lifted. “That’s either sweet or incredibly concerning.” “Still deciding myself.” The barista called her name before she could answer. She grabbed her drink, and Dean immediately fell into step beside her. “Where are you going?” “Class.” “Perfect. I can walk you there.” “You don’t even know where I’m going.” Dean flashed a grin. “Details.”

She shook her head, already fighting a smile as she headed for the door. For the first time all week, Dean felt like he’d finally found what he’d been looking for. And this time, he wasn’t letting her disappear. So where are you heading he asks?