Read Between the Lines

by Erica Spindler

  God help her.

  She crossed to the bar. “Hello, Michael.”

  He looked up and smiled. “Katie. I wondered when I’d hear from you.”

  She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her white wool coat. “Well, today’s Monday.”

  “Is the news good?” His smile widened.

  She could tell by his smug expression that he already knew it was. Katherine silently swore. “One of my big-mouth students beat me here.”

  Michael laughed as he added Irish whiskey to a cup of coffee then topped it with whipped cream and a cherry. “You know what they say about a bartender being the next best thing to a priest.”

  “Well, I’ll make it official then. Your application has been chosen...” Her words trailed off as she realized he’d made her favorite drink. In the next moment, she realized he’d remembered it, and her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, Michael, I only came in to... I don’t have time...”

  Michael set the drink, along with a packet of sugar, on the bar in front of her. “It’s on the house.”

  Katherine felt her cheeks heat and cursed her fair skin. “Well, I guess I have time for one.” Feeling awkward and more than a little silly, Katherine busied herself with unbuttoning her coat and pulling off her gloves.

  “Just get out of class?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “Um-hmm.” She slipped out of her coat, then sat down. Hooking her heels on the middle rung of the stool, she stirred the whipped cream into the coffee until it was nothing but a frothy layer on top of the cup.

  “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

  Katherine lifted her head to find him staring at her. She shifted on her stool. “Since what?”

  “Since we’ve been together.”

  Heat washed over her and she shifted again. “Yes, I guess it has.”

  Michael plucked a cocktail straw from the box behind the bar and chewed on its end. “We really had some good times.”

  Katherine tightened her grip on the cup. “Yeah, we did.” She took a sip of the hot, sweet liquid and almost choked.

  “I’ll never forget the time we got lost in Chicago trying to find the Museum of Natural History. You were so scared.”

  Katherine remembered a fear so strong she’d shaken for hours afterward. Michael had bluffed their way out of a serious situation and all she’d been able to do was cry. “I still can’t believe you talked me into stopping at that bar for a drink! People disappear on the South Side of Chicago.”

  Michael grinned. “Everything turned out all right. It was an adventure.” He leaned on the edge of the bar, still chewing on his straw. “Have you gotten that close to a street gang since?”

  “No, thank God.”

  Michael laughed. “Still the same serious, cautious little Katie, I see.”

  She lifted her chin defiantly. “Still the same reckless, irreverent Michael.”

  Not at all offended, he laughed again and leaned toward her. “Do you remember the time we went camping? That first night, it was so cold—”

  “Yes, of course I do,” Katherine interrupted briskly, wishing she didn’t. How could she have forgotten? She remembered that camping trip as if it were yesterday, remembering both the biting cold, then the searing heat of Michael’s body. “So—”

  “I thought we’d freeze. Crazy kids.” He shook his head, still smiling at the memory.

  She’d been crazy, all right. Crazy in love with a guy who thought of her as a sweet kid and a good buddy. Her palms were damp and she wiped them against her thighs. Over the years, she’d futilely wished he’d never offered the warmth of his sleeping bag that night, had time and again regretted accepting his offer. The memory of sharing that warm cocoon with him, of the way he’d smelled of wood smoke and musk, of wanting him so badly she couldn’t sleep, had tormented her ever since.

  Feeling exposed, Katherine scrambled for a change of subject. “Business looks good.”

  Michael shot her a questioning glance, then straightened up. “Yeah, it seems I’m the favorite hangout this week.”

  “Terrific.” She knew her smile was too bright, and tried to soften its glint.

  He tossed the mangled straw in the trash. “What’s the next step?”

  It took Katherine a moment to realize he was talking about the experiment. She shuddered—out of the frying pan and into the fire. “Wednesday night there’s a group meeting for everyone participating in the experiment. At that time we’ll be asked questions about our daily routines, attitudes, life-styles. You can move in anytime after that.”

  “Sounds good, Katie.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Where and what time?”

  Sounds good? she thought incredulously. It was her idea of a nightmare. Why couldn’t one halfway-normal man have applied? “Seven-thirty at the Social Sciences building, room one-forty-one.” She slid off the stool and grabbed her coat. “Thanks for the drink.”

  “Anytime, Katie. See you Wednesday.”

  She slipped into her coat and wound the thick white scarf around her neck. She lifted her hand in goodbye and, without a backward glance, hurried across the room.

  A moment later she was out in the brittle February day. It was a welcome respite from the claustrophobia she’d begun to feel inside. The frigid air stung her overheated cheeks and cooled her sweat-dampened skin.

  Her boots crunched against the loosely packed snow as she crossed to the car. After first fumbling with the keys, then the lock, she slipped inside.

  Katherine took two long, steadying breaths. See, she assured herself, that wasn’t so bad. She curled her fingers around the steering wheel at the lie. No, horrible was a much better description.

  She started the car, then sat back while the engine warmed up. If only he hadn’t brought up their shared past. The last thing she needed to be reminded of was her adolescent and unrequited crush on Michael Tardo.

  The corner of her mouth lifted in wry amusement. That was something she had no problem remembering all on her own.

  Chapter 2

  They had met her first day at Northern. She’d been a freshman, more eager and more naive than most, determined that the next four years would be the most rewarding of her life. That morning she’d put on one of her new fall outfits and headed to the university bookstore, anxious to buy all her texts and supplies for the semester. The trip had taken most of the morning, and by the time she’d trudged back across the huge campus, she’d been hot, irritated and exhausted.

  She remembered climbing the last flight of stairs to her floor, muttering under her breath all the way. What kind of university was this anyway? she’d wondered, feeling sweat trickle between her shoulder blades. How could you live in a high-rise dormitory with a broken elevator?

  Her arms had quivered and her bangs had clung to her damp forehead. And why, she silently wailed, had she worn this stupid outfit? At eight in the morning it had seemed the perfect choice. But then, she hadn’t taken the time to check the weather.

  Katherine groaned and shifted the monumental weight of the textbooks. So, on a day when the temperature had risen to an unseasonable eighty degrees, she was wearing a wool sweater and corduroy pants and carrying a load that would have tested a professional football player.

  The stack of textbooks seemed to have tripled in weight by the time she reached her dorm-room door. Juggling them, she inched her fingers into her pockets for her keys and came up empty. She drew her eyebrows together in concern, readjusted the books and tried the other pocket. Nothing.

  She’d forgotten her keys! How could she have done something so stupid? How? Katherine rested her forehead against the door and her heavy glasses slipped down her nose. Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t carry these books one step farther. Not one step. But if she left them and went to get the dorm monitor, they might disappear. In a burst of frustration, she kicked the door.

  “Need some help?”

  At the male voice, Katherine looked over her shoulde
r and squinted, tipping her head back so she could see through her glasses.

  The guy standing behind her reached over and pushed the glasses back up her nose. “Better?”

  “Yes, I really—” Color flooded her cheeks as her world came back into focus. The guy standing behind her was gorgeous! Her gaze traveled from beautiful brown eyes to running shoes that were held together with electrical tape, then back up. He was wearing a pair of workout shorts and a sleeveless, cutoff sweatshirt. The sweatshirt revealed an almost indecent expanse of his muscled belly, and she stared at the firm, tanned flesh.

  Katherine realized what she was doing and jerked her gaze back to his face. Laughter danced in his sexy eyes, and she felt heat creep up her already burning cheeks. “I... um... I guess I forgot my keys.” You guess you forgot your keys? Great going, Katherine, now he’ll think you’re an idiot as well as a nerd. She wanted to die.

  “No problem.” He plucked his student ID card from its resting place—the dangerously dipping waistband of his shorts. He slipped the card into the crack between the door and the jamb, wiggled it a few times, and then she heard a click.

  Her mouth dropped as the door swung open. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  This time his gaze swept over her. The corners of his lips tipped up. “Trust me, little bit, you don’t want to know.” He took the stack of books from her arms as if they weighed nothing and carried them into the room.

  Little bit? she thought indignantly. Who did he think she was, somebody’s kid sister? And why wouldn’t she want to know?

  He set the books on the bed, then glanced around. “Yours looks just like mine.”

  Katherine stood uncertainly in the doorway. “Pardon?”

  “Your room looks just like mine. I live down the hall.” He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts. “I’m Michael Tardo.”

  “Hi...” She nervously folded her arms across her chest. “I’m Katherine Reed.” He gazed at her for a moment, then smiled. The curving of his lips was slow and bold, and suddenly it seemed as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. Light-headed, Katherine squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

  “I see you take this college stuff seriously.” He scanned the stack of texts. “Introduction to Sociology... English Literature... Western Civilization...” He turned and shot her an amused look. “Calculus? What is your major anyway?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, but I want to get the most out of my college experience. I thought I’d try a little of everything my first semester and... so...” Her words trailed off in embarrassment. His eyes had crinkled at the corners and it looked as if he were about to laugh. And who could blame him? She sounded like a little bookworm. Her heart sank. A guy like him would never be interested in a bookworm. “Well, thanks for the help.”

  “Anytime.” He smiled again and sauntered to the door. He stopped just outside it and turned around. “We’re having a party tonight. Room six-eighteen. Stop by if you can.”

  Katherine swallowed. “You’re inviting me to a party?”

  “Yeah, why not? See you then, Katie.”

  Katie, she thought as sudden laughter jerked her out of her reverie. She gazed out the car window at a group of rowdy students on their way into the bar, then shook her head. That had been the beginning of her infatuation with Michael. Infatuation? More like love at first sight. Oh, she’d told herself all the things a serious, intellectual girl would at a time like that—she’d just met him, looks meant nothing, she wasn’t his type. But the warnings had been too late. She’d fallen head over heels for a guy who would never love her back.

  Her initial reasonings had, over time, been proven correct. He never had fallen in love with her. She’d tried everything, but he’d never thought of her as more than a friend. Except for one night. One sweet, bitter, fateful night.

  Katherine pushed that particular memory resolutely away. At least she could take satisfaction in knowing she was over the crush and that any romantic feelings she’d had for Michael Tardo had died long ago. What was left was only emotional residue.

  Sure it was. Shifting her Prius into first, she headed out of the parking lot.

  * * *

  Wednesday night arrived with a speed that left Katherine breathless. She stepped from the car, then, oblivious to the cold, stood staring at the Social Sciences building for a long moment. Living with Michael... she wasn’t sure she was up to it. All the bravado, all the blustery affirmations were just a lot of hot air. The truth was, she had the feeling she was making the second biggest mistake of her life.

  Her wool coat was no competition for the winter wind, and Katherine burrowed deeper into its collar. Mistake or not, she was committed. Backing out now would only raise a lot of questions in Michael’s mind, questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. She smiled in wry amusement as she remembered the one that had gotten her into this mess in the first place—why are you so opposed to this?

  Katherine squared her shoulders and headed across the parking lot. She would face this because she had to. And it would be okay. She would stay out of Michael’s way, he would stay out of hers and everybody would be happy.

  She climbed the steps slowly, then pulled open one of the double glass doors. The building was brightly lit and warm. Katherine pulled off her gloves and unwound her scarf as she walked down the hall. Excited conversation mingled with laughter greeted her, and she smiled. This year’s grads were the best she could remember—enthusiastic, inquisitive, bright. Every class had stars, but this class had nothing but stars. They’d kept her on her toes since August—she chuckled to herself—and this experiment was just another example of their ingenuity.

  Katherine stepped into the room, her smile dying on her lips. The students were sitting in a circle around Michael, listening raptly to one of his highly embellished, morally questionable stories. She drew her brows together as she recognized it. Irritated, she closed the door with more force than necessary.

  At the sound, Michael looked up and smiled. It was one of his to-die-for smiles, all even, white teeth and dimples, and Katherine lifted her chin. “Hello, everybody.” A collective—and rather sheepish—greeting went around the circle.

  “Why don’t we ask Dr. Reed,” Michael said, standing. “Dr. Reed, in your expert opinion, was the behavior of the Big Bad Wolf sociopathic, psychopathic or merely antisocial?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know, Mr. Tardo. At this point I have insufficient data. For example, I know nothing about his social environment or culture. Depending on those things—”

  “His behavior may be none of the above,” Marilyn Fuss chimed in. “Depending on the mores of his social environment, his behavior could be normal rather than aberrant.”

  “Exactly,” Katherine pronounced, nodding at her student. She turned back to Michael. “Does that answer your question, Mr. Tardo?”

  “For the time being, Dr. Reed.”

  Michael’s eyes sparkled with amusement and Katherine swore under her breath and looked away. “Marilyn, are we ready to begin?”

  “Let’s wait another five minutes,” Marilyn answered, consulting her clipboard. “We’re missing three participants.” When Katherine nodded, she called out, “Okay, everybody, we’ll start in five.”

  From the corner of her eye, Katherine saw Michael whisper something to one of the coeds. She turned her back on him, but not before hearing the coed giggle in response. Katherine gritted her teeth. Well, she could see he still went for the same type of woman—stacked and flashy. At least in college he’d dated women his own age. That girl was young enough—

  “Sharp as ever,” Michael murmured in her ear. “But watch out, Dr. Reed. Someday I’ll catch you off guard.”

  For one brief moment Katherine’s senses were flooded with him—his fresh, soapy scent, the cadence of his breathing, the warmth emanating from his body, so close to hers. She pushed the sensations away and spun around. “You and I need to have a conversation.”

  “Oh?” Michael
lifted his eyebrows. “What about?”

  “About the story you were telling when I walked in, for one thing. I wasn’t amused.”

  Michael’s jaw tightened. “Of course you weren’t. Serious, straight-as-an-arrow Katherine wouldn’t find a slightly off-color story amusing.”

  She curled her fingers into her palms and glared up at him. “And I don’t know why I expected a little decorum from a man who wore jogging shorts to the Dean’s reception.”

  He smiled wickedly. “I could have worn a lampshade. Or worse, nothing at all.”

  She stared at him for a moment, fighting the smile that tugged at her mouth. She gave in and laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Michael reached over and lightly chucked her on the chin. “Of course I am.”

  Katherine found the gesture unsettling in its intimacy, infuriating in its implication—he still thought of himself as a big brother. She stiffened her spine. “Michael, I know I overreacted a moment ago, but try to understand, I’m walking a fine line with this thing. If the wrong person had come through that door, this experiment might have been cancelled.”

  His smile faded. “I hadn’t thought of that. Sorry, Katie. From now on, no more stories. And I promise not to wear lampshades—or worse—to any of the meetings.”

  “Thank you,” Katherine murmured as Marilyn called everyone to order. She took a seat, mulling over what she’d said to Michael. Her concern over the experiment and the need for scholarly appearances was real, although she had exaggerated just now. Michael’s bawdy story or the chance that the wrong person could have heard it hadn’t been responsible for her outburst. No, around Michael she felt awkward and uncertain because she couldn’t forget, even for a moment, their past or the shy, nerdy girl she’d been.

  Or how much loving him had hurt her.

  How was she going to share her home and all the intimacies of day-to-day life with him, if she couldn’t even handle sharing the public arena of a classroom? She could only hope that as time passed she would become desensitized to his presence.