As people pushed past me left and right, I stared at Daniel. He’d always been a beautiful man. The first day I’d laid eyes on him was eerily similar to today. I’d been walking home to my dorm, distracted while thinking about a lecture I’d just attended on Pissaro, and almost didn’t notice the impromptu soccer match on the lawn in front of my building. Almost to my door, I paused when I heard shouting and looked back at the group of guys playing. But what made me stare was the player off to the left, talking to a group of girls and charming the pants off anyone within a square mile. He was literally a golden boy. Tall, with the most gorgeous honey blond hair curling slightly along his shirt collar. Dimples, twinkling blue eyes, and even though it was mid-October, enough of a tan that you just knew this kid spent his summers on a boat somewhere. I watched him for a moment, starstruck by his looks. Even from across the quad, you could tell this guy had “it”—that quality that was going to take him wherever he wanted to go and would make sure it wasn’t all that hard to get there.
