Class Reunion by Juliet Chastain Page B

him and his games. She smiled, thinking about how he’d patiently taught her to play Nintendo, how they’d designed their own world on her dad’s computer, and how, when they needed a break, they’d go to the Dairy Queen and share a small cone of plain chocolate.
    Nicholas was probably way out of her league now, but maybe because he was funny-looking and shy, and they’d been best friends forever, she had a fighting chance.
    She’d always seen him so clearly in her mind’s eye, which was why she’d never thought to ask for a photo. Now it suddenly occurred to her that he might have changed so much she wouldn’t recognize him. He’d told her that he was now six-two. He must be a really scrawny scarecrow. She smiled at the thought. Not that his appearance mattered. He was her best friend. Even if they only stayed in touch via e-mail.
    “Fact is, I love him,” she said to the mirror. “Fact is, I hope to hell that he will fall madly in love with me.” She frowned. “Another fact is that I’m terrified of seeing him again. It’s been so long—what if we don’t even like each other in person? What if all my dreaming about him all these years is just a silly fantasy?”
    She told herself to stop worrying. There’s not a damn thing I can do about it. She took off the dress and hung it up. Then she slipped out of the heels and pulled on jeans, her old boots, and a thick sweater to run over to the sub shop and pick up something for dinner.
    She left her room and summoned the elevator. When it opened, there he was.
    Nicholas.
    Only this was no tall, gawky scarecrow. Although he wore the same kind of flannel shirt he always used to wear, this one fit his broad shoulders perfectly. Her gaze travelled south to his jeans, which showed off his slim hips and muscular thighs that strained the fabric. He had the same inscrutable, piercing green eyes and the same dark hair, which had obviously been cut by someone more skilled than his mother. And somehow he’d grown into that straight nose and generous mouth. He’d become a hunk.
    “N-N-Nicholas?” she stammered.
    The man nodded. They stared at each other. The door began to close. He stepped forward and must have pushed the button because the door slid open again.
    “Hello, Dana,” he said. His voice was lower than she remembered. Sexy. She shivered.
    “Oh! Hi,” she managed to say.
    “Are you going down?”
    “Oh, er, yes, yes I am.” Could she be any more idiotic? And how could he have become that gorgeous? Perhaps, if he’d looked more like the awkward geeky kid she remembered, she could have handled this better. If he were still like that kid, she would have thrown her arms around him. Told him how thrilled she was to see him. But not this mind-blowingly attractive man.
    “What a surprise to see you,” she managed to say in what she hoped was a normal voice. Hoping he couldn’t hear the loud beating of her heart, she stepped into the elevator.
    “But I e-mailed you that I was coming.”
    “Well, I mean, here in the elevator...”
    “Yes,” he said seriously. “That is a surprise. I didn’t expect to meet up this way.”
    “I, um, I thought I’d go to the sub shop. Pick up something for dinner.”
    He smiled. “A coincidence. I was going to do the same. How about if we go out somewhere instead?”
    “I’m up for that.” God! Would she be able to get even a tiny morsel down in the presence of the god-like creature her friend had become? She would have to say goodbye to her dreams—her fantasies—about him. No way the wildly successful, total babe he’d become would fall for an ordinary woman like herself.
    “How about Harvey’s across the street?”
    “I guess,” she said. Could she not think of anything brighter?
    “I saw the lights were on when I got into town an hour or so ago. I’ve never eaten there,” he said.
    “Me neither,” she said. “I hear it’s really expensive.” Oh god, I didn’t need to say that—he’s stinking