“Sorry. Training ran late,” Wes apologizes as he takes a seat across from me in the library.

I wave him off. It’s only two minutes past, but I’d been so buried under the newest assignments David shoved off on me I hadn’t even noticed.

“No worries. I was just finishing some homework.”

He grabs the programming book in front of me and flips through it, holding my place with a finger. “You’re taking a computer science class? I thought you were business?”

Shit.

I take the book back and shove it into my backpack. “Most businesses run on computer science.”

I think I heard David say that once, so there’s a slight chance it’s true.

“So, I worked through the practice questions in chapter six. I think I showed my work right, but can you take a look?”

He nods as he rummages through his bag, unzipping every pocket and dumping the contents onto the table—two mechanical pencils, a notebook, a folder, and a bottle of Icy Hot. The bag is clearly empty, but he keeps riffling through the pockets.

“You forget something?”

“I, uh, was hoping I had a granola bar or a forgotten pack of trail mix. I didn’t have time to eat.”

Extra points for skipping food to hurry to meet me. The tally is somewhere in the millions at this point.

I check the time and close my laptop. “University Hall is open for another thirty minutes.”

His eyes light up at the prospect of food. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah, I need to stock up on Chewy Sprees anyway. Someone ate all mine.”

He sweeps everything back into his backpack as I do the same, albeit much more carefully.

The sun is setting as we walk, disappearing behind the mountains and taking the daylight with it. The colors that paint the sky with its descent take my breath away. I used to hate sunsets. Hate the signal of another day ending without accomplishing everything I wanted. I preferred the sunrise and the prospect of a new day filled with possibilities.

It was David who made me fall in love with them. He’d told me that sunsets were meant to be shared. That, unlike sunrise, which was about individual reflection, they were a gathering and celebration of a day spent with people you cared about. I’m sure it was a line he heard somewhere, or worse, made up on the spot to win me over, but even if everything else about my time with him had been a lie, the idea of sharing sunsets stuck.

“You lost?” Wes interrupts my thoughts and motions toward the University Hall, which I nearly passed.

I point toward the horizon. “I was just admiring the sunset. Arizona has the best sunsets.”

“Better than wherever you’re from?”

“Well, no. I’m from here.”

He laughs. “So, your data point is one?”

“I don’t need to go anywhere else to know that is the best sunset.”

He looks up as if he’s really seeing it for the first time. “It’s pretty good. I’ll give you that. Better than any I saw in Kansas.”

“Kansas, huh?”

He nods. “Yep.”

“Ruby slippers, Dorothy, tornados, the Wicked Witch, and Todo . . . that is literally everything I know about Kansas.”

He chuckles. “Not a lot else we’re known for, I guess. The Wizard of Oz and the Jayhawks.”

“The what hawks?”

“University of Kansas Jayhawks. One of the best college basketball teams in the nation.” He looks at me like his explanation should jog my memory. I’m not about to tell him I know next to nothing about college basketball, let alone which teams are the best.

“Why’d you decide to come to Valley instead of being a Jayhawk?”

“According to my father, I did it purely to piss him off.”

“Did you?”

He smiles sheepishly. “No, not entirely, but it was an added bonus.”

“So why Valley?”

He holds open the door for me as we enter University Hall and runs the other hand over his chin. “Got Z to thank for that. I played against him my senior year of high school in an AAU championship. Coach Daniels recruited Z hard, everyone did. When he signed with Valley, he put in a good word for me. Never even talked to the guy off the court. Anyway, I owe him. It’s been incredible playing alongside him. Players like Z don’t come around very often. He has the kind of talent that people will still be talking about in twenty years.”

“I heard he’s going pro next year.”

“Yeah, definitely. He should be a first-round pick, but it depends on how the season goes. If I can get us to the final four, he has a shot at a top five spot. Joel could go, too, if he doesn’t screw it up with the partying and women. He has another year yet, though.”

“What about you?”

“Nah, doubtful. I could maybe get drafted in a late round, probably spend some time on their minor league teams, but I’m just focused on the next five months.”

“I’m surprised,” I answer honestly. “I can tell how much you love it, and you’re obviously talented enough to play with guys who are going pro, why wouldn’t you want to go for it or at least try? You might be surprised, and worst-case scenario is that you don’t make it and you can fall back on your business degree.”

He grins, which is not at all the reaction I am expecting. “You have spunk. I like that. I just need to focus on getting the team to that national championship. Z and I have been working toward it for four years, and it’s so close I can taste it.”

We go our separate ways to get supplies for our study session and then settle into a table where I sip coffee and Wes devours a sandwich and chips. He quizzes me on binomial distribution between bites, and I find I mostly know the answers. I’m picking it up faster now, whether because it’s clicking or because Wes is that good, I don’t know. I’m leaning toward the latter.

I’m able to concentrate more too. It isn’t that his looks don’t affect me anymore, he’s still mind jumbling hot, but as I learn more about him I realize the outside isn’t even the sexiest thing about him. He’s intelligent and polite and just . . . nice.

When they dim lights at University Hall signaling closing time, I’m reluctant to leave but I know Wes has other things to do. Guilt for tricking him into helping me gnaws at my conscious. I should probably let him off the hook now and tell him I can finish preparing for midterms on my own.

“Same time tomorrow?” He asks as he scrolls through his phone and then taps out a message.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I work at the café until four, but I’m free after that.”

“Shoot,” he says and stops on the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Joel has a late class tomorrow night.”

I stare at him trying to figure out how Joel’s schedule impacts his.

“He’s my ride,” he finally says as he stares down at his phone. “I can’t drive yet with the boot.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry. I completely forgot. I could come to the house again if that’s easier?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“How are you planning to get home tonight?”

He shrugs. “Joel’s coming to pick me up.”

I laugh, something about Joel playing chauffeur makes me adore their friendship even more. On cue, Wes points to a black sports car pulling into the parking lot behind the library with no regard for the speed limit. Joel pulls up to the curb and grins up at us through the open window. “I feel the need . . .”

Wes shakes his head, but I don’t miss the big smile on his face as he finishes the quote. “The need for speed.”

He looks over sheepishly. “Top Gun.”

“I should have guessed.”

“You need a ride, stat girl?”

“Nah, it’s a short walk.” I point in the direction of the sorority house.

Both men look at me stubborn and hard. “You are not walking across campus at night by yourself.”

Valley isn’t exactly a hub of violent crime, but I can see any retort I could make would be in vain. They aren’t letting me walk.

Wes holds the door open for me, and I slide in to the back of the car that still smells new and expensive. It fits Joel, who I haven’t gotten a good read on yet. He’s flirty and playful and seems to be so different from Wes and Z, but they’re close. I can tell their friendship goes beyond ball.

“What kind of car is this?” I ask as I run my hands over the soft leather. A large screen rests in the middle of the dashboard and Joel taps it to set the music for the drive.

“Tesla 3.” Joel turns to me, mischief in his eyes. “Ever gone zero to sixty in three seconds?” The way he says it sounds positively dirty.

I shake my head slowly, afraid what my answer means.

Joel’s eyebrows raise, and he smiles wickedly. Before I can brace myself, he speeds off so fast I forget to breathe. Holy shit. Wes careens his neck back to check my expression, and the wolfish smile he gives me only speeds up my already racing pulse. Zero to sixty. Yep, I’m falling just that fast.