Two days later, the afternoon of the second to the last day of class before Thanksgiving break, Sheridan met Sean in the parking lot of the English building.
Sean climbed out of his car—the same neon blue Mustang he had bought years ago—and gave his sister a hug.
Time had been good to Sean. At twenty-six, he no longer appeared so young. There was a new hardness to his face, the bones standing out more clearly. His skin had become faintly weathered from so many hours in the sun, and there was just the slightest indication of what would eventually become lines around his eyes. It suited him. He looks like a man in his prime, the kind who makes girls weak-kneed and fluttery. He"s an absolute titan of masculine beauty, and I"m about to unleash him, full force, on my susceptible friend. She h
