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most of her students had filed out before approaching Peyton.
    Peyton was packing up her books when she felt a presence behind her. She whirled around and was shocked to find Malik Williams standing there. “What are you doing here?” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she realized how accusatory she sounded. Could it be because Malik looked like he could easily fit in with the Greenwich Village crowd, in cargo pants and a tight T-shirt? The shirt revealed his muscular arms and tight abs.
    â€œSounds familiar, huh?” Malik asked. His tone suggesting that he’d been as disconcerted as she when he’d found her on his turf.
    Peyton ignored him and threw books into her satchel. “What do you want, Malik?”
    Malik bowed his head. “I’m here to apologize. I was wrong about your intentions.”
    Peyton turned back around. “You’re admitting you’re wrong?”
    â€œYes, I am.” Malik stood up straight. “I was wrong about your reasons for coming to the center, and after sitting in on your class and hearing how passionate you are about serving the community, I’m here to tell you that you can volunteer at the center.”
    Peyton chuckled. Should she be grateful that he’d had a change of heart? Perhaps. But he hadn’t been completely off the mark, either, when he’d said she was scared of her attraction to him. She had never felt that kind of instant attraction. Not even with David; their relationship had been more of a slow burn. “I fully intended to do that. With or without your blessing, but I will accept your apology.”
    â€œThank you,” Malik said, smiling. “And if you let me, I’d like to make it up to you. How about a cup of coffee?”
    â€œAre you asking me out again? ” Peyton asked.
    Malik took a deep breath. She really wanted to bust his chops. “I am asking you out for coffee.”
    Peyton debated with herself. Should she go? It was just coffee, after all. Perhaps if she went out with him and satisfied her curiosity once and for all, she could get back on an even keel. “All right.” Peyton threw her satchel over her shoulder. “Lead the way.”
    Malik and Peyton took a short walk through Washington Square Park to Caffe Reggio. Always crowded, they managed to grab an outside table just as a couple was leaving. “Good looking out,” Peyton commented.
    â€œThis was always a favorite hangout of mine when I went to NYU,” Malik said as he helped her into her chair.
    â€œThank you.” Peyton inhaled deeply and received a whiff of Malik’s musky cologne. He smelled darn good.
    A waitress appeared several moments later and took their order. Malik ordered a cappuccino and a cannoli and Peyton couldn’t resist ordering their homemade tiramisu with her caffe latte.
    â€œHow did you get in the community service field?” Peyton asked, making polite chit-chat.
    â€œBecause I experienced firsthand how difficult it was for my mother, a single woman, to raise a child on her own. She didn’t have the resources that are available today. If she did, maybe things would have turned out differently.”
    Peyton was curious about Malik’s comment, she wondered if it had something to do with the fact that he and his friends frequented the center in their youth; but when he didn’t expound further she didn’t press for more details. The waitress came back and placed their coffees and Italian pastries on the table.
    â€œWould you like anything else?”
    â€œNo, we’re good for now,” Malik replied, and the waitress departed.
    â€œSo, how long have you been director at the Harlem center?”
    â€œFor about five years, since my mentor retired.”
    â€œSounds like he was a big influence.”
    â€œYou’ve no idea,” Malik replied, sipping his cappuccino. “Sometimes though, it feels like I’m fighting an uphill