Gasping, I dawdle in winter layers to catch up to him, "you take public transportation?"

The sun's beginning to set but I can still make out the hard look on his face, which doesn't give away anything. Frowning, something about this silent Zander doesn't sit too well with me and once my eyes travel from his face down his figure to size up what's brewing, I almost laugh at the nervous body language.

"Wait, don't tell me this is your first time?" I ask airily. 

"I didn't say anything, don't start jumping to conclusions, Catherine."

Gasping again with light humour, I shove his shoulder, "A twenty-two year old boy has never taken the bus. Not once in his life?"

"It isn't like that!"

"I think it is."

"And hold on, did you just call me a boy?" Nodding in the affirmative, his face darkens.

"Cupcake, I'll only say this once. But I'm a man."

Waving a hand dismissively, my tone mocking, "Man, boy. Same thing."

"What? No."

"Sure it is, I mean if you think about it in terms of maturity, men are still boys till the age of twenty five at least."

 Stopping dead in his tracks, he turns to me and takes a step forward. Startled, I lean back and stare up at him surprised. His voice seems to drop a few octaves as it becomes laced with a heavy intensity, "but putting that aside, let's focus on the physical."

"Ah..." Internally frightened, my heart starts to hyperventilate and I simply agree with my body as my muscles begin to function faster and my legs start moving on their own accord – I run.

"We're going to miss the bus!" Is my lame excuse as I try to put distance between us. Locating the bus stop that's directly under a light post, I check the timings on a bus schedule pinned to a nearing post.

Hearing the sound of Zander's footsteps behind me, I turn around to see humour in his eyes and a smile he tries eagerly to hide.

"Um, you were right. It should be here in five minutes," I huff, my breaths visible through the cold air.

"Am I? I think I was right about more than just the bus." Offering a shaky, hysterical laugh, I quickly stare at the salted sidewalk and wish with every fibre of my being that I was invisible – why is he doing this to me?

"I-I have no idea what you mean," is my small, simple reply.

"Oh?" My eyes are still fixed on the pavement, my hands shoved into my pockets but they're soon yanked out and placed into Zander's large and warm ones.

Speechless and dumbstruck, he starts blowing onto my hands and rubs them delicately with his fingers.

"Um, wha-what are you doing?"

"Just demonstrating my previous comment."

"Wha – " My words get swallowed up in bewilderment as he places my freezing palm lightly against the side of his face. I'm not sure if Zander's purpose for this is to warm my hands because my face is the only thing feeling scorching hot heat. I'm gravitated to his touch but my mind reminds me this is wrong, completely wrong – I'm violating business ethics here, aren't I?

Quickly snatching my hand back, I step away and exhale a weak breath, "your hands will get cold too."

"Now this is a first, here I am trying to charm a girl and it's having reverse effects."

"Huh?" Before I can pry him further for more than just an elusive statement, the bus comes to a screeching halt in front of us and that's when I realise the grim situation I've placed myself in; I haven't taken the bus in almost two years. The last time I ever saw Gran was when she got on a bus and waved goodbye, my heart lurching at the memory of the phone call I received when the hospital called to let me know she passed away while asleep in her seat.

"Catherine?"

My body jerks, as strong hands clasp my shoulders and shake me out of my trance. Snapping out of a past that was so close to spilling over, I blink a few times to see Zander's worried expression, blue eyes scanning my face. "Hey, you okay?"

"Ye-ye-yeah, I'm okay."

"Miss are you getting on the bus?" Moving my eyes away from Zander with reluctance, I get on the bus in a flustered state and take a few quick breaths to calm myself down and pay the fare – my fingers shaking as I put change down the coin slot.

 Not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, I quickly scan the bus, and locate an empty seat at the far back. Closing my eyes briefly, I take a step forward but a firm hand against my wrist holds me back. Turning around, Zander's rattled face gets my full attention.

"Uh Catherine, do you have change?"

Sighing, I shake my head and quickly pay for the idiot then hastily move towards the seat I previously set my eyes on.

"Thanks," rubbing the back of his neck, Zander takes the empty seat next to mine and I move my head away, looking out the window. I wasn't trying to be hostile, but I just couldn't lift my head after picturing Gran's smiling face.

 "Do you know which stop we're getting off at?" I finally ask after a gruelling ten minutes of complete silence, something that I thought Zander Nolan wasn't capable of.

"Uh...."

"You don't know?"

"First timer, remember?"

Sighing, I try jogging my memory to remember where a donut place could be located; I really haven't stepped out of my humble abode in months. "I think there should be a coffee place at the next stop."

"You think?"

"I wasn't the one who decided to hop on the bus without change and without any destination in mind."

"Right..." Giving an exasperated sigh, I get up and shove Zander towards the back doors of the bus and press the stop sign. Within a few seconds, the bus pulls over to a side stop at a corner intersection and we get off, or rather leap off the bus, avoiding massive piles of snow. 

Glancing around, relief comes over me, I didn't get off the bus in the middle of nowhere! We were safely in a suburban downtown area that resembles a small quaint town with plenty of shops and stores open. Twinkling lights wrapped around small trees and streetlights added more lighting, and the sidewalks were clear with large amounts of salt dumped onto them.

"This place is nice."

Shifting my eyes towards him, I wonder if he's being modest in order to maintain a conversation or if he genuinely likes standing here in this mini-downtown area that's insignificant and small compared to the capital city where his family resides.

"Are you serious?" Biting my bottom lip, I give him a hard look.

Not offended by my words, he smiles lightly, "yeah, I'm being serious. Its nice and quiet here."

"Tell me, have you ever been to a tropical paradise?"

"If you mean the South Islands, then yes."

"And you think this place is nice?"

"Yeah..."

"Over the islands?"

"Ah, okay. I see where you're going with this. Yeah, it's not as nice as other places I've been to but it's the first time I'm able to walk freely in my own country without security breathing down my neck." 

The thought of a personal bodyguard seems fantastic and annoying at the same time; to be able to have someone protect me 24/7 is a dream for this frightened twenty one year old. But to have someone loom over me, constantly, at nearly every waking hour of the day would be cause for severe migraines. 

"So you're making the most of this simple freedom?"

"Honestly Catherine, you have no idea how lucky you are."

And honestly, I'm not. Refusing to answer, I start walking in the direction of the nearest coffee shop and pull the door open, Zander's figure right behind me. The place was fairly empty so I take a seat at the first empty booth closest to a window.

Peeling off my parka coat, Zander takes the opposite side of the booth and we look around the place for a waiter to serve us.

"Man, I can't remember the last time I went out for coffee."

"Neither can I," is my frail reply. 

And once again this catches his interest because his eyebrows furrow, "why not?"

"I'd rather stay home."

"I've noticed."

"It's a personal choice."

"Is it?"

Why I've chosen to take on a defensive tone and why Zander's almost unattached tone bothers me but makes me feel on edge, brings a frown onto my face.

"I don't like crowded places," I admit more truthfully.

"Does this have to do with your sorry excuse for not being a people person?"

"Sorry excuse?"

"Your not the one who isn't a people person, Catherine."

"Couldn't we just discuss your trip to the South Islands instead of my people skills?"

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, he shrugs mildly as a waiter finally comes over to our table.

"Hey there, sorry for the wait. Can I get you started with anything?"

"I thought this was a coffee shop..." Grabbing a menu, I finally glance over its contents but the waiter's chuckle makes me look up.

"Your thinking the only thing we could have is coffee, right?"

"Um, yeah..."

"Our menu's pretty extensive, take your time choosing but I'd personally recommend number five if you really do want caffeine." The waiter strides off, and I quickly take a moment to look for number five on the menu and nod in appreciation – well that's done.

"Do you really want to know about my trip to the South Islands?"

If it'll stop the inquisitive inquires about me, then yes. "My dull life or tropical paradise? I think I'd rather talk about tropical paradise."

"Hmm, there's not much to say. Just booze and girls."

Why did I even bother asking? "I can see why your mom is so concerned for you," I remark dryly.

"What? C'mon, that was a great story."

"If I were a dude who only spoke in less than five word sentences, yeah, maybe."

"Fine. The sand was like sand, the palm trees looked like palm trees and everyone sat in beach chairs while sipping drinks in coconuts."

"The sand was sand, and the palm trees looked like palm trees? I sure hope so."

"No need to be so condescending, it's all about semantics."

"Even a first grader wouldn't describe sand and trees like that."

With an exasperating flourish of his hand, Zander gives me a diminutive shrug,"What? Well isn't the sand, sand? And aren't palm trees, like palm trees? Why go through the trouble of explaining something when we all know what they are?"

"To sound at least a little descriptive."

"That's just exerting too much energy."

"I'm sorry your brain cells have to work overtime."

"Uh, am I interrupting something?" We both turn to see a confused waiter, his eyes darting nervously between us.

"Yeah man, can't you see we're in a heated debate about sand and trees?" Zander bites out derisively.

"Er, so you're environmentalists?"

I'd like to smack Zander and myself, but bless the waiter's soul for thinking we were in a professional debate and not one that's entirely stupid.

"I'll take number five please," I quickly say, hoping to end this embarrassing conversation.

Beaming, the waiter nods approvingly, "Great! Glad you went for it, and you pal?"

"I'll take number nine."

"Anything else?"

"No," I offer compliantly, happy with my menu choice.

"Nothing but according to my friend here, I need to walk around with a dictionary and thesaurus."

"Um, your orders should be ready in five minutes." Taking the menus, he walks off to another table and I turn to Zander with daggers flying out of my eyes.

"What?"

"I did not say that."

"You meant that."

"No, I didn't," I declare with more steel to my tone.

"Why? I'm sure you're smarter than me."

Scoffing, my eyes widen in disbelief, "I went to a regular, public high school. Not some private school located in the middle of nowhere where only the rich know exists."

"Yeah and what about now?"

"Well now I – " Wait a second. Just wait a second; did I just fall into a trap? My eyes narrow into slits as I pause briefly before continuing, "Why do you ask?"

"Because it confuses me."

"...So?"

"So you're a little work of confusion I need to figure out."

"What? Wha – why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"I don't even know how to place it – you're so trapped in your own world you don't see the bigger picture."

"Huh?"

A small smile perks at the edge of his lips, "the value of your worth is more than you think. More than you know Catherine." His soft-spoken words send shivers down my spine and I look at the door hoping it isn't my body reacting to his words but a draft coming in.

I'm stunned into silence, my hazel eyes staring back at his blue ones in uncertainty and what I hope reveals my inner overwhelming thoughts. What is he saying? Trapped in my own world of what? Pain? But that's a given then.

"Sorry for the wait, here are your orders," the waiter announces, breaking the silence.

Blinking from the current of my lethargic thoughts, I divert my gaze and stare down at the vanilla latte and vanilla waffles topped with fruit and whipped cream.

Offering the waiter a feeble thanks, my eyes stay on the cup before me, my hands nervously tapping the rim.

"Are you going to answer my question?" Zander inquires and I feel his gaze observing me.

"No."

A sigh escapes from him, but my eyes never move away from my cup but his determination doesn't immediately die down and presents me with an offer totally unexpected, "fair enough, I'll tell you what you want to know about me and I'll ask you a question in return."

"Why would I agree to that?" Even though a sliver of interest comes over me for purely matchmaking related purposes of course.

"I can't think you're that indifferent. Ask away anything you want, even all the secrets of the government that I might know."

"Then...your favourite dessert?" I finally ask, looking up to see a bemused expression.

"Oh good one."

"I'm being serious," I try to sound serious but end up rolling my eyes in light laughter.

"I did say anything didn't I? I'm going to have to go with something so original and plain that you'll wish you never asked that. My answer is going to be plain old apple pie."

"And here I thought I was boring because I like double chocolate cake," I mumble, slightly suspicious of his answer. He was the country's golden boy, that implies that he has the country's top chefs and cooks slaving away in kitchens making him only the finest of all foods, yet he chooses apple pie?

"My turn," Zander rubs his hands in anticipation, neglecting the hot brew in front of him and directs his gaze squarely at me.

"Where do you go to school  – "

"Too personal. Next question."

"Favourite movie?"

"Don't have one."

"Last date you were on?"

"Too Personal. Next."

"Favourite song?"

"Don't have one."

"Any siblings?"

"Too Personal."

"Favourite book?" I ask, my voice straining.

"Don't have one."

"Worst habits or phobias?"

"Too Personal."

"Favourite number?"

"...Ten." At this point we're glaring at one another but I refuse to confess anything even down to simple questions, clearly Zander has the same idea as he refused to answer my rebuttal questions which makes me raise a questioning eyebrow in defiance. We really aren't getting anywhere with our bickering, sighing I just shake my head and sip some of my latte then take a small forkful of waffles.

As if on cue, the waiter flutters to our table, "How are you two liking it?" If I weren't so entirely broke, I'd tip the poor guy because he's managed to come to our table at every worst-best moment.

"It's great," Zander lightly replies and I only nod in agreement.

"Oh uh, by the way I'm really not suppose to do this but the guy at the table down there asked me to give you this," cautiously peering around, he attempts to slide a folded napkin over to me inconspicuously. Glancing down at it, I slowly unfold it and almost slam it back to its folded form.

"What's it say?" I can sense an edge of iciness, which is unbelievable but I ignore Zander's question and shove more waffle bits into my mouth.

"Nothing."

"Let me see."

"No."

"How come?"

"It's nothing, really."

"Did he ask for your number?" Alright, so I might not be able to omit anything if he speaks to me in such a dark undertone.

"Yes and no?"

One eyebrow lifts to express disinterest but demands an elaboration, "that either answers my question or it doesn't. What does it say?"

"Nothing." 

Narrowing his eyes at me, I think he's given up and I grab my cup but nearly choke and die on the latte as he snatches the napkin out of my grasp. Stretching out an arm to grab it back, he lifts it away from me and reads it word for word, his eyes travelling from each letter and sentence, "I'll be right back."

 Alarmed, I watch on in horror as he slides the napkin back to me and walks away towards the sender.