Prerequisites For Love (Sample Chapters Only)

Chapter 2-1

I'm a head taller than old and grumpy Bob, so when I look behind his shoulder, my mouth about falls on the floor. A very handsome grandson is walking up to us. It's difficult not to stare at him when he walks with such confidence. His hands are in his jeans pockets, and his white shirt tightly hugs a hard chest. His black hair is cut short but long enough to make me want to run my fingers through it. Just to see how soft it is. And his gray eyes are locked on mine. He taps Bob on his shoulder and asks to cut in, to which Bob only frowns but steps away. Thank goodness. This guy's body looks so strong, definitely made for...serious work. Or serious fun.

Shoot. I woke up this morning in my car boyfriendless, and only hours later, I'm ogling a stranger. What's wrong with me?

"Thank you. I thought Bob was never gonna let me go," I tell him.

"Yeah, I noticed."

He doesn't smile, but the corners of his eyes form small yet deep lines. Who knew wrinkles could be so sexy. Wait...what?

"Seemed you needed saving."

He has no idea.

The next song starts, and it's just as slow as the previous Frank Sinatra song. He puts his hand out and waits for me to place mine in it. I'm surprised by his gentle gesture. Brad would just grab my hand whenever he felt like dancing. Although I lay my palm softly in his, the immediate touch burns me. I study his perfect hand, and after gawking at all the rigid muscles that make up his forearm, my eyes stop at the thick lines of ink showing underneath his white T-shirt. I long to catch a glance at that shoulder tattoo.

"May I?" his voice is deep and sensual.

I blink.

"Is it okay to place my other hand here?"

I nod.

His warm fingers touch the small of my back, and goose bumps shoot up my spine, while unfamiliar sensations run through my entire body. How is his touch burning through my shirt? His direct gaze is penetrating, making my pulse quicken. Although this stranger is properly holding me, unlike old and grumpy Bob, he pulls me closer than necessary to his body.

"I'm Larisa's grandson." He moves his head toward her, and a few strands of hair fall on his forehead. I hate that I notice that. Oh, it's his grandma who's dancing with Gramps. When he speaks, I feel his warm breath and inhale his scent—a male fragrance that's driving me crazy.

"I'm K." I try to exhale.

He raises his eyebrows. "Just the letter K?"

I've never realized how unusual it may be to a stranger when they hear that. I've forgotten to use my full name around Brad, family, and friends. Everyone knows me as K, something Brad started calling me once we were dating.

"It's...Kara."

"Dean Sawyer."

His body starts swaying with the rhythm of the song, and mine follows obediently. I'm suddenly aware of all points where his body touches mine. No doubt, he is the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and I have previous experience with meeting hot guys. My mother made sure of that. She had a lineup of handsome guys who I had to meet before she insisted I date Brad. She'd picked them out from her friends' sons. I may have started dating Brad just so I could get my mother to stop with her matchmaking.

Dean clears his throat and says, "I'm taking speech class with you this semester."

I gape at him. "Wow. What a coincidence," I muster. If walking into that classroom didn't create significant panic attacks for me, I'd be better acquainted with the other students. I sigh. "It can't be a coincidence. Gramps says that everything happens for a reason." I roll my eyes at myself. Why am I sharing useless information?