Eva Pov

"You're insane," Kelly said for the third time that morning as I rifled through my closet, tossing rejected outfits onto my already messy bed.

"Completely, utterly insane."

"I'm being strategic," I corrected, holding up a blue sweater and immediately discarding it.

Too casual.

"There's a difference."

"Strategic would be focusing on your own classes instead of stalking some rich senior who probably doesn't even remember your name."

I paused in my outfit deliberations to give her a look.

"Listen, he remembers my name. He repeated it twice."

"Eva Hartmann," Kelly said in an exaggerated deep voice, clearly mocking Nathan's perfectly articulated pronunciation.

"Wow, what a connection. Practically a love declaration."

I threw a pillow at her, which she dodged expertly.

"You're not being supportive."

"I'm being realistic. Which, if I remember correctly, is supposed to be your thing."

Three days.

It had been three days since the debate, and I'd spent every spare moment researching Nathan Ashford and Ashford Development. What I'd found had only made my fascination worse.

Honor roll student, president of the Business Ethics Club, volunteer at the campus mentorship program. On paper, he was perfect.

In person, he was devastating.

And apparently, completely out of my league.

"Found it," I announced, pulling out a cream-colored sweater that made my eyes look greener. Professional but approachable.

"Perfect for my first Urban Planning Club meeting."

"You don't even care about urban planning," Kelly pointed out.

"I care about sustainable community development," I said, which was technically true. I'd spent most of yesterday in the library reading about mixed-use zoning and affordable housing initiatives. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right.

"And this has nothing to do with the fact that Nathan Ashford is the club president?"

I pulled the sweater over my head and checked myself in the mirror.

"Maybe a little."

Kelly groaned.

"Eva, listen to me. Guys like Nathan Ashford don't date girls like us. They date other rich kids with trust funds and family connections. You're setting yourself up for heartbreak."

"You don't know that," I said, grabbing my bag and heading for the door. "Maybe he's different."

"And maybe pigs fly," Kelly called after me, but her voice was fond despite the sarcasm. "Just... be careful, okay? I don't want to spend the rest of the semester eating ice cream and watching you cry over some guy who doesn't deserve it."

"There won't be any crying," I called back confidently.

Famous last words.

The Urban Planning Club met in the basement of the Engineering building, in a cramped room that smelled like coffee and old textbooks. I arrived fifteen minutes early, partly to scope out the best seat and partly because I was too nervous to sit in my dorm room any longer.

By the time other students started filtering in, I'd claimed a chair in the second row, close enough to participate but not so close as to seem desperate. I'd also reviewed my notes on sustainable development three times and practiced intelligent questions in my head.

Nathan walked in at exactly seven o'clock, and my carefully planned composure immediately crumbled.

He looked... effortless.

Dark jeans and a gray sweater that probably cost more than my monthly food budget, but he wore them like they were nothing special. His hair was slightly mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it, and he carried a leather messenger bag that looked both expensive and well-used.

He moved to the front of the room with that same easy confidence I remembered from the debate, greeting other members by name, shaking hands with the professor who served as the club advisor.

And then his eyes swept the room and landed on me.

For a moment, his expression didn't change. Then, slowly, one corner of his mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile.

Yusss...he remembers me.

"Good evening, everyone," he said, his voice carrying easily through the small room. "For those who don't know me, I'm Nathan Ashford, and I'll be leading tonight's discussion on sustainable development in urban environments."

I tried not to read too much into the way his gaze lingered on me when he said "sustainable development."

"Before we begin, let's go around the room and introduce ourselves. Name, major, and one thing you hope to learn from tonight's discussion."

My heart started racing as the introductions moved around the room.

Wait, what should I say?

Something intelligent but not show-offy. Interested but not obsessive. By the time it was my turn, my palms were sweating.

"Eva Hartmann," I said, pleased that my voice sounded steadier than I felt. "Architecture major. I'm interested in how we can balance economic development with community preservation."

Nathan's eyes met mine across the room.

"Excellent. That's exactly what we'll be discussing tonight."

The meeting itself was fascinating, and not just because Nathan was leading it. He was smart, really smart, and clearly passionate about urban development even if his perspective was more business-focused than mine. He listened to other people's opinions, asked thoughtful questions, and managed to keep the discussion on track without being controlling.

I found myself participating more than I'd planned, challenging some of his points but in a respectful way. Each time I spoke, he gave me his full attention, and I felt that same electric thrill I'd experienced during the debate.

"Eva makes an interesting point about community input," he said at one point, after I'd suggested that residents should have more say in development projects.

"How would you implement that practically? Community meetings can be time-consuming and don't always represent the broader population."

"True," I said, my confidence growing. "But you could use technology to make it more accessible. Online surveys, virtual town halls, even social media engagement. The key is making sure people feel heard, not just consulted."

"Smart," he said, and I tried not to beam too obviously. "What else?"

The meeting ran over by twenty minutes, which Nathan apologized for but which I secretly loved. When people started packing up, I lingered, pretending to organize my notes while watching him chat with other members.

"Eva."

I looked up to find him standing beside my chair, and suddenly the room felt much smaller.

"I'm glad you decided to join us," he said. "Your perspective on community engagement was insightful."

"Thank you," I managed. "I really enjoyed the discussion."

"Good." He paused, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Are you planning to come to our next meeting?"

"Oh yes, definitely." The word came out perhaps a little too quickly, but Nathan didn't seem to mind.

"Excellent. We're discussing mixed-use development next week. Right up your alley, I think."

Before I could respond, another student called his name from across the room. He glanced over, then back at me.

"I should go," he said. "But I'm looking forward to hearing more of your ideas."

And then he was gone, leaving me sitting there with a ridiculous smile on my face and the lingering scent of his cologne.

I floated back to my dorm room on a cloud of possibility. Nathan Ashford was looking forward to hearing more of my ideas. He'd called my perspective insightful. He'd remembered my name and seemed genuinely pleased that I'd joined the club.

Kelly took one look at my face when I walked in and groaned.

"Oh no. You've got that look."

"What look?"

"That 'I'm completely infatuated and nothing you say will change my mind' look." She studied my expression more closely. "It went well, didn't it?"

I collapsed onto my bed, still grinning. "He said my perspective was insightful."

"Of course he did. You're brilliant when you're not being distracted by pretty boys."

"He's not just pretty," I protested. "He's intelligent and thoughtful an-"

"And completely out of your league," Kelly finished. "Eva, I'm serious. Be careful. Guys like that... they're used to getting what they want. And when they're done, they move on."

But I wasn't listening, not really. I was already planning my outfit for next week's meeting, already thinking of intelligent questions to ask and insights to share.

Nathan Ashford thought I was insightful.

That had to count for something.

It had to be the beginning of something.