“Oh really? We have the same English class!” I said, not remembering to hide my sudden, yet severe, enthusiasm about having more time with this entrancing man. “Well, I suppose we do.” He said seductively in his velvet-smooth voice. His crooked grin also made yet another heart-melting appearance. “Who's your teacher? Mine's Leycht.” He continued. I smiled. “Mine's Leycht, too.”

Suddenly, I felt a slight thud and realized we were back at the paddle club. He climbed out of his side of the kayak easily and grabbed his blazer. Before I could even wiggle my way out of my side, he was next to me, offering his hand as help. I gladly took it and that same electricity from before, pulsed through my hand. I wondered if he felt it too.

We made our way back to the parking lot and to his car. It was a silent walk, but it was a comfortable silence. He opened the passenger door for me and I slid inside. The car purred, once again, to life and then we were flying down the road to some unknown location. When he finally spoke, it almost startled me, but when I got a look at the speedometer inching towards 80 miles per hour, I internally gasped. “Well, I know you like Italian food, so I thought I'd take you to one of my favorite Italian restaurants, in Seattle, Osteria La Spiga (link in fanfiction profile),” he said, keeping his eyes on the road. I forced a smile and a “That's great,” as I tried to relax myself. As if he could read my mind, he turned on his stereo. Clair de Lune flowed from the speakers. I immediately relaxed.

Not two minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of a quaint looking Italian restaurant. He rushed out of his side and was opening my door the next moment. I placed my hand in his, welcoming the electricity. I craved it now. I craved his touch, I wondered how it would feel to be pressed up against him, to feel his soft, inviting lips against my own. I had to stop thinking this way so I could focus on where I was walking.

He held the door open to me and we walked to the stand where the hostess stood. “Table for two, please.” He said in his velvety voice to the hostess. She didn't move for a moment because she was busy ogling Edward. I felt a pang of jealousy, even though I could not even call him my own. He seemed not to notice and just looked to me with a smile on his face. I tried to push the anger out of my eyes, so he wouldn't see how strongly I already felt for him. I questioned it myself. The hostess finally got a hold of herself and walked us to a booth in the middle of the restaurant.