Page 83 of Ice Me Out

“I think you’ve been getting plenty of workouts in since meeting me.”

She sighed deeply.

“Getting cracked is not my definition of working out,” she said, drawling her words.

“Then we’re operating out of two different dictionaries.”

I laughed when she mentioned how depraved I was before leaving to secure a seat. I spent the next few minutes loading my tray down, and by the time I found Vera tucked away in a corner booth, I was balancing three trays.

“Seriously, Hart?”

“I don’t like getting up for seconds,” I remarked, lowering my trays to the table. “Just a heads up, if you see a few swipes missing from your dining card, then it was definitely me. Text me your PIN.”

“Imagine going to jail for conspiracy to steal a poor student’s dining card.”

“Poor?” I exclaimed, finally taking my seat and unrolling my cutlery from the linen napkin. “Funny. Poor girls don’t wear diamond earrings that are worth more than most folks’ mortgages. Nice earrings, by the way.”

Vera gasped and touched one of her earrings.

“Do you know what I had to do to obtain these earrings?”

I groaned around the lobster grilled cheese I had snagged and was tempted to text DeAndre and demand he add it to our brunch menu.

“Make your toes touch the headboard,” I replied, wiping my mouth with my napkin.

“Precisely. That’s not—”

“Ms. Gray,” a voice interrupted.

My eyes flicked up from my sandwich to a man in a fitted blazer and tortoiseshell glasses, standing beside our table with a leather satchel. He was young, polished, and way too fucking comfortable interrupting our lunch.

“Dr. Fields,” Vera said, smiling as she sat up straighter.

“I’m looking forward to our meeting this afternoon,” he said, his tone warm but clipped. “Your proposal on using alternative grains like sorghum and millet to produce beer with lower residual glucose is one of the more promising submissions I’ve seen this cycle.”

Vera grinned. “Thank you. I’ve been refining the fermentation model.”

The professor nodded, eyes flicking briefly to me. “Glad to see you’re fueling up. Brain work like that needs proper sustenance.”

I smiled tightly, resisting the urge to ask if he always dropped compliments like breadcrumbs in front of his students.

“Enjoy your lunch,” he said, already turning away.

Vera watched him go, then turned back to me. Her smile fell.

“Don’t start.”

I raised my hands innocently.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you wanted to,” she said, assuming correctly.

“It’s just a little peculiar that he sought you out while you’re having lunch, but hey, that’s just me. Tell me about your magnificent senior research proposal.”

Vera’s eyes brightened like a constellation.

“Are you sure? Because once I get started, I won’t be able to stop,” she warned.