Spiral of Bliss 01 Arouse
worked. I forgot all about Professor West—or tried to tell myself I had.
    Until he walked into Jitter Beans one morning.
    I was helping another customer, answering a question about the difference between a cappuccino and a caffe latte.
    “So a cappuccino has a stronger coffee flavor?” the guy asked, peering at me intently.
    “That’s correct.” I looked over his shoulder to check how many other customers were waiting.
    My gaze collided with Professor West’s.
    I drew in a sharp breath, my pulse thudding a stream of heat through my blood. How had I not known the instant he stepped inside?
    I couldn’t stop staring at him, tracking my gaze over his ruffled, dark brown hair, the angles of his features, the curve of his beautiful mouth. He was all-professor in a tailored suit and a perfectly knotted tie, his briefcase in hand.
    A smile crinkled his eyes as he looked at me, then he tilted his head slightly toward the guy I was supposed to be helping.
    “Oh.” I swung my attention back to the customer, who looked a little annoyed at having been dismissed. “Sorry, what?” I said.
    “I asked if you could make the latte with an extra shot of espresso,” he repeated.
    “Sure.” My hands trembled as I rang up the order and conveyed it to the girl who was making the drinks. “It’ll be ready in a sec.”
    The guy took ten years to get out his wallet and pay for the latte. By the time Professor West approached the counter, my stomach was taut with nerves.
    “Um…” I gripped the edge of the counter. “Hi.”
    Amusement flashed in his expression. “Hi.”
    “Can I help you?” I tried to muster a professional tone, aware of my coworkers bustling around behind me, the hum of conversation from other customers.
    “Medium coffee, please.” He slid a hand into his pocket. “For here.”
    I turned to grab a cup and pour the coffee. “Room for cream in your coffee, sir?”
    “No, thanks. Did you get everything straightened out with the registrar?”
    I looked at him in surprise, wondering why he cared. “Yes, I did what you suggested. A couple of professors filled out the right forms indicating I’d already covered the curriculum.”
    “Good.”
    “Thanks for the help… Professor West.”
    “Dean.”
    I put the cup on the counter, painfully aware of the beat of my heart, fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Dean?”
    “My name. Dean West.”
    “Oh. I’m—”
    “Olivia,” he said.
    The sound of my name in his deep voice rolled through me like a breaking cloud.
    “How did you know?” I asked.
    “I saw your name on the papers at the registrar’s office.” He handed me a couple of dollars. “I remembered it. Olivia R. Winter.”
    I rang up the order and counted out his change. “Why did you remember my name?”
    “Actually…” He lifted the cup and turned to the tables. “I remembered
you
.”
    I stared after him as he sat at a table beside the window and opened a newspaper. We didn’t speak again that day, but I saw him leave and gave him a little wave of farewell. I had the instinctive sense he would come back. I wanted him to.
    And he did. He always ordered a medium coffee, no room for cream, and sometimes a muffin. It was my favorite time of year—early September with crisp, clean air and warm colors and a touch of fall.
    I couldn’t help it. Every time I went to work, I hoped I’d see him. I didn’t want to hope for it, didn’t think anything could come of it, but a thousand happy sparks twirled through me whenever he came into Jitter Beans.
    I liked everything about him—his masculine features and thick-lashed eyes, his jaw sometimes dusted with a hint of stubble. I liked his dark hair, his tall, strong body, his smile, and the twinkle that shone in his eyes when he looked at me.
    I started to welcome the feelings he aroused in me, all so utterly different from the narrow practicality that had driven my life for years. One morning he pushed a folded piece of paper across the counter

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