and then she turned toward the outside stairs that led up to her second-floor apartment. She smiled when she glanced up and spotted Norman sitting in his favorite spot on the living room windowsill, watching her.
At least someone was glad to welcome her home, she thought, walking a bit faster.
She unlocked her door and pushed it open, thinking that maybe she would throw on some sweats and make an omelet for dinner….
For the first time since she had brought him home six months ago, Norman dashed past her through the open doorway and streaked down the stairs, straight into the parking lot. Terrified that he would run in front of a car, Catherine threw down her bags and raced after him, calling his name. “Norman, stop! Come back here.”
Alerted by her shout, Mike got to Norman first, dropping his books to scoop the cat into his arms. Rather than resisting, Norman butted his head happily against Mike’s chin, as if in greeting.
Her heart still pounding against her ribs, Catherine skidded to a stop in front of them. “I can’t believe he did that. He’s never run out before. Thank you so much for catching him.”
“No problem.” Smiling, Mike transferred her pet into her arms. “Guess you’d better start blocking the door when you open it.”
“I guess so.” Catherine frowned down at Norman, who was purring as if he were quite pleased with himself. “Bad cat. You could have been hurt.”
“So could you, the way you pelted down those stairs,” Mike told her. “You’re lucky you didn’t trip.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t even think about it,” she confessed. “I was so afraid he would run in front of a car.”
As if to emphasize what could have happened, an SUV passed them at that moment, the driver nodding to Mike in recognition. Mike waved back, then turned again to Catherine. “So, how’s it going—other than escaping cats? Everything in working order in your apartment?”
“Yes, thank you.” She glanced down at the three hardcover books scattered at their feet. “I hope none of your books are damaged. If so, I’ll certainly pay for replacements.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. They’re just textbooks, and I bought them used, anyway.” He crouched to gather them, and Catherine couldn’t help but notice the titles.
“Biology and American history. You’re taking classes?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed her own stupidity. Of course he was taking classes—why else would he be carrying textbooks?
But he merely nodded as he straightened. “I’m taking a couple of classes at UALR.” He pronounced it “you-ler,” as many locals did.
She wasn’t sure what to say, except, “Are they going well?”
He started to nod, then stopped himself with a grimace. “History’s fine. Biology’s kicking my butt.”
“Really? Anything in particular?”
“We’re having a test on glycolysis Monday, and to be honest, it doesn’t make a lick of sense to me. I’m going to try to study this weekend, but I have a sinking suspicion it isn’t going to help much. I can’t make heads or tails of this stuff.”
She would never know what impulse made her open her mouth and blurt, “I’ll help you.”
He looked at her with a curiously lifted eyebrow. “Um—what?”
She told herself that it would make her look even more foolish to take her words back now. And why should she, really? After all, he’d done the favor of helping her rescue Norman. And this was certainly something she was qualified to offer him in return.
“I’ll help you study for the test…if you’re interested. My undergraduate degree was in biology. So if there’s anything I can do to help you prepare—”
“Hey, I’m not too proud to beg for help,” he said with a devastatingly attractive, crooked grin. “If you’re sure you have the time, and it isn’t too much trouble, I would be grateful for any help you can give me. I really want to pass this test.”
She nodded. “It’s no trouble at all. When would you like to come by?”
“Are you free tomorrow afternoon?”
“I have some things to do at work in the morning, but I should be home by about two. Shall we make it three o’clock?”
“I’ll be there. And, hey, thanks, Dr. Travis. I really appreciate this.”
She glanced down at the cat dozing contentedly in her arms, purring like a chain saw. “It’s the least I can do. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Eager now to get away before she said something incredibly dumb, she carried Norman up the stairs to her apartment. When she glanced down from her front door, she noticed that Mike was already gone.
Chapter Two
“Hey, Mike! Heads up.”
He turned just in time to snatch the basketball out of the air, spin and sink it into a basket above his head. Nothing but net.
Three male voices groaned loudly. Two others cheered. Mike’s three-on-three teammates slapped him on the back and offered upraised hands for high fives.
“And that would be…game!” Bob Sharp performed an embarrassingly dorky dance of victory, his near-shoulder-length red hair flying around his square-jawed face.
“Dude.” Mike rolled his eyes. “Chill.”
“Seriously.” Black-haired, green-eyed Brandon Williams, the third member of the winning team, tossed a sweaty towel at Bob. “You’re making us look bad.”
Still joking around with his teammates and opponents—also all friends—Mike moved to a bench at one side of the park basketball court and rooted in his gym bag for his watch. He groaned when he found it. He had lost track of time during the game and now he had ten minutes to shower, change, grab his books and make it to Catherine Travis’s apartment by three o’clock.
He was going to be late.
“Hey, Mike. Wanna go have a beer and watch a game or two?”
“Can’t,” he replied to Bob’s suggestion. “Gotta study.”
Typically, Bob brushed off the excuse. “C’mon, man, you can study later. It’s not like you’ll be grounded if you don’t get an A.”
He laughed heartily at his own joke. Bob still couldn’t understand why Mike had decided to go back to school almost ten years after dropping out of his first attempt at higher education. Bob was perfectly happy driving a delivery truck and stocking snack machines in local businesses, spending his leisure hours hanging with friends and chasing women.
Until a few months ago, Mike had been pretty much content with that lifestyle himself. Now that he had decided he wanted more, some of his friends seemed determined to try to talk him out of it.
“C’mon,
