Redesigned by Denise Grover Swank Page B

it. But he grumbles under his breath and turns at the next intersection—away from campus.
    “Wait.” I say before I come up with a reason why this won’t work. I could say I have a class but both Reed and Lexi have a copy of my schedule. We all shared them the day of our first meeting.
    Reed turns to me and lifts an eyebrow.
    I sink back into the seat and release a heavy sigh. I’m being ridiculous. We’re adults here, albeit, barely. I can sit in a car with him for twenty-five minutes, fifteen of them alone with him. I’m mature, mostly. I can do this. “Never mind.”
    Lexi sits back in her seat and begins to talk about the nonprofit and ideas that came to her for future fundraising.
    I look over the back seat to glance at her. “You really love this, don’t you?”
    “Yes. I feel like I’m actually accomplishing something other than….” Her voice trails off as her eyebrows knit.
    “Other than what?” I prompt.
    “Other than going to classes. Do you ever feel like you’ve spent your whole life in school and you’re dying to get out?”
    Right now, school is the only security I feel. The big bad world scares the hell out of me, but I’m not going to tell her that. Not in front of Reed. “Yeah, sometimes I do.”
    “So when I get to do something like this fundraiser, I feel like I’m making a difference. I’m helping someone.”
    I can’t think of the last time I felt like I made a significant difference in anything. Perhaps I’ll find it helping the kids at the tutoring center. Still, I’m not naive enough to think one pretty dress and an afternoon on a runway are going to change these kids’ lives, but at least it’s something.
    “So you’ve helped with other fundraisers before?” I ask.
    “Tons.”
    “How did you find so many opportunities? You’re only a sophomore in college.”
    Her smile falters.
    “We grew up in Boston.” Reed interjects. “All you have to do is toss a rock across the street and you’ll hit a nonprofit. Lexi was part of a high school club that worked with charities.”
    “Huh.” I’m trying to decide if my brother knew anything about my high school activities, let alone hang out with me. I haven’t seen him since the summer I left. Last I heard, he took off for L.A.
    with his rock band.
    “So you haven’t done charity work before?” Lexi asks.
    “No.” I’m fairly certain receiving charity isn’t the same thing. “Where did you go to high school?”
    They both remain strangely quiet until Reed answers. “We went to a small Catholic school.”
    Why is Reed answering such simple questions for his sister?
    “So you’re Catholic?”
    His eyebrows twitch. “Do you have anything against Catholics?”
    “Well, no….”
    I clamp my mouth shut. This conversation has derailed, and I don’t see the point of trying to fix it.
    Reed pulls into a parking lot of a three-story building and parks at the curb. “What time is your appointment over, Lexi?”
    “This is a meeting, not a therapy session. There isn’t a predetermined end time.”
    A therapy appointment is an odd comparison.
    He grunts in frustration. “An hour?”
    She grins. “An hour should be sufficient.” She opens the car door. “Why don’t you two go get something to eat while you wait for me?” Then she jumps out and runs into the office building.
    “I think we’ve been set up,” I say as I watch her disappear behind the revolving door.
    “Yeah.” Reed sounds as thrilled as I feel.
    “No offense, but I don’t have time to hang out with you for an hour.” Not that part of me doesn’t want to. Maybe I should just give in to temptation and get him out of my system. Isn’t that what Tina does? Has her fun with a guy and moves on. But Reed doesn’t seem like fling material, and I’m not that kind of girl. Not to mention we still have three weeks to work together. No, giving into temptation is the worst of worst ideas.
    His shoulders tense.
    As he drives to the parking lot exit,