A Higher Education

by Rosalie Stanton

  Though he certainly didn’t mind the idea at all.

  Will scowled at his textbook for not being more interesting. If it could just hook him, he’d be able to put her out of his head for a while. But with Elizabeth so near—in his space—the likelihood of making a dent in his coursework was about as high as Caroline doing a nice thing for someone with no ulterior motive.

  He snorted at that and officially gave up. In the span of a blink, he sprung to his feet and was out the door.

  The door to Charlie’s room was cracked wide enough to get a good look inside, but Will knew at once that she wasn’t in there. Charlie was in full flirt mode, which didn’t mean much by itself, but the fact that he was speaking in low tones meant he didn’t want to be overheard, which he wouldn’t do if someone else were in the room. Charlie didn’t have much patience for people who excluded others from the conversation—he felt it was rude, and always did his best to bring those around him together.

  It was an admirable quality—one Will tried to adopt in theory, if not in practice.

  He turned at the staircase and headed to the first floor. Elizabeth wasn’t in the game area or channel surfing. He cast a glance out one of the large bay windows, but couldn’t see much beyond the sheets of rain pouring down, even amid the occasional streak of lightning. While he was confident she wouldn’t have left in such awful weather—especially with no fast way to get back—he’d made an ass out of himself by assuming things before.

  The laundry room was deserted, though a quick glance informed him that Elizabeth’s clothes had finished drying. They had been neatly folded and placed on a folding card table along the wall opposite the machines—something Will had seen Caroline do a time or two when she was attempting to make a point to the other housemates. Roughly, you’re an adult now so pick up your own goddamn laundry.

  His best guess was that Caroline wanted to shame anyone who came to collect their clothes into finding out who had folded them. It hadn’t worked. Charlie, the most obnoxious offender, had responded by giving her tips on how he most preferred his socks bundled. Had Caroline not had an audience, Will imagined she likely would have ripped her brother apart.

  Will wandered into the back hall. He passed the library, which was empty, and the aerobics room, also empty. To his knowledge, Elizabeth hadn’t brought any homework with her, having assumed that she’d be able to return after dropping off Jane’s book. He wasn’t surprised, therefore, to discover the study room vacant.

  The unmistakable crack of pool balls colliding, and his heart gave another funny lurch.

  He found Elizabeth bent over the pool table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she studied the colorful layout of balls spread across a rich green surface. She straightened, grabbed the cue, and bent again, this time armed.

  “Lurking in the doorway,” she said without glancing up. “How very ominous of you.”

  “You’re holding your cue wrong.”

  Elizabeth smirked. “No kidding?”

  “You knew.”

  “Well, if I had managed to do it right, I’d have been shocked.” She punched the cue forward jerkily. It scraped against the green felt, but the cue-ball managed to knock a target or two. “I’ve only ever seen this done in the movies.”

  “I’m sure you could find a tutorial on YouTube.”

  “Yeah, but my way’s more fun.”

  “Your way isn’t a way.”

  Elizabeth straightened and lifted her eyes to his.

  “So I’m not playing pool,” she said, shrugging. “Do the rules matter if I don’t give a crap?”

  Will frowned. “What’s the point of playing if you’re not going to follow any rules?”

  “Who says there are no rules?” Elizabeth retorted. “If I decide what the game is, I decide what the rules are. In the end, I have fun and kill some time. What’s the harm?”

  “That’s not pool.”

  She shrugged again, then repositioned herself to take another strike at the cue-ball. “Right. Like I said, I’m not playing pool.”

  “I could teach you how to play, if you like.”

  “Nope,” Elizabeth said, letting the cue fly. “Not interested.”

  “I—”

  “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

  Will fought back a grin as she rose to full height again and flashed him a challenging look. He couldn’t tell at the moment if she was being sincere or obstinate for the hell of it, and despite the warning sirens that started howling in his head, he knew he was beginning to cross the threshold from physical attraction to something more.

  If he was being honest with himself, he’d passed that barrier the second she opened her mouth in Professor Greenfield’s class.

  Which was entirely inconvenient.

  “No,” he replied. “I just thought you might enjoy the challenge.”

  “The challenge,” she deadpanned.

  “Of learning something new, or perhaps you’re worried about not being very good at it.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work on me.”

  “What a shame.”

  “Mmm.” She set the pool cue across the table before looking at him again. “Let me guess…you never broke the rules once when you were a kid.”

  “And I suppose you were a serial rule-breaker.”

  “How else do you learn?”

  “By paying attention.”

  “Yeah. I bet you got beat up at school a lot.”

  Will tilted his head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but no. By conventional standards, I would have been considered a jock at my school.”

  “Conventional meaning public.”

  He shrugged. “If you like.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before breaking away with a laugh. “So you went from elite private schools to living in a dormitory that likely costs more in utilities alone than most people make in a year. It’s really the hard-knock life for you.”

  “I suppose there’s something wrong with private schools?”

  “No.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Not with the education part, but the students tend to be snobs.”

  “Do you paint everything with such a wide brush?”

  “I’m speaking from experience. It’s all I have to go on.”

  “And your experience…”

  “Private school for three years,” she replied. “Then money became tight and my family couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. When I informed my friends that I’d be going to public school the next year, you’d have thought I just announced I had cancer.”

  Will winced. “They’re not all like that.”

  “Uh huh. Does that have its own hashtag? ‘Not all men’? ‘Not all private schools’?”

  “What?”

  Elizabeth bristled. “Never mind.” She turned her face from him, sighing. “So, who else lives here? The only people I’ve seen are you and Charlie.”

  “Charlie’s sister lives here too.”

  “That’s it? Just three of you?”

  “There aren’t that many rooms,” he said defensively. “Well, that are ready. Third floor’s mainly storage right now.”

  “And this is why people hate the rich. Thousands of students on campus and the three wealthiest have their own McMansion.”

  “Charlie’s father did donate the money that got this built.” He left out the condition that Charles Bingley IV had gotten in writing that anytime a Bingley attended Meryton, they and they alone would call the place home.

  “Yes, and it was put to spectacular use.”

  He had no idea how the conversation had derailed so dramatically, but he could see, from the way she held herself, that she was annoyed. Not a flirty annoyed, but rather something genuine and deep. He wasn’t sure how they had gotten there, but he thought it best not to stay. This was the longest they had gone without fighting since he’d met her.

  So in his haste to continue speaking, he blurted, “Did Jane give you too much trouble?” />
  Her eyebrows winged upward. “Jane?”

  “About the book being ruined.”

  “Oh, no. She was horrified that I was here, though. Apparently the weather alerts started coming in about ten minutes after I left. She’d texted, but the text didn’t arrive until I was almost here and it was too late to turn back.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t volunteer to come keep you company,” Will stated, though that wasn’t true. He’d seen Charlie break up his share of friendships by being overly friendly with someone he should have steered clear from. Jane seemed nice, but they all did at first—until they realized that their girlfriends could double as competition.

  “Don’t let her hear you say that,” Elizabeth said. “Jane could feel guilty because the sky is blue, so when I say she was horrified that I came here in this weather, I freaking mean it. Seriously, I pretty much had to make her leave me alone.”

  “And why did you?”

  “Because I wasn’t born yesterday and I didn’t want to be the third wheel in her date. No sense ruining both our nights.”

  “So being here ruined your night?”

  “It wasn’t on my bucket list, no,” Elizabeth replied dryly. “And by the time the storm calms down enough that I can head home, I’m going to be too wiped to get any reading done.”

  And there it was. An opening.

  “I was about to head back upstairs,” Will said quickly, “to continue studying, myself. Ethics?”

  She nodded. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll go back to poke-ball.”

  “Poke-ball?”

  “Mmm. The game I invented.” Elizabeth tapped the pool table, grinning. “And I saw a big ole room full of books down the hall, so if I get bored I’m sure I can—”

  “I was going to say, you’re welcome to come with me.”

  She stared at him.

  “For the reading. We have the same course.”

  She still didn’t say anything for a beat, and what might have been a grin started to tug on her lips. “Thank you. That’s—”

  “Will?” came a lilting voice from behind.

  The next moment, Caroline was beside him, her flawless stage smile in place. She leaned against the doorway, not bothering to acknowledge the presence of anyone else.

  “I thought that was you,” she said. “How long have you been down here? I wanted to see if you wanted me to make you something to eat.”

  Elizabeth coughed, but Will was fairly certain it was to mask a snicker.

  “Excuse you,” Caroline said, turning to Elizabeth at last, her eyes cold, even if her smile remained in place.

  “Many people have tried,” she retorted, grabbing the pool cue off the table again.

  Caroline watched her for a moment before sliding her gaze back to Will. “Well?” she said softly. “Hungry for anything?”

  “No, not at the moment,” Will replied. “Thanks.”

  The crack of pool balls colliding broke through the air again, followed by a hard thud. Caroline hissed and grabbed onto Will for support, throwing her full weight onto him without warning so that he tumbled back and had no option but to seize her about the waist.

  Instantly, he was closer to Caroline than he’d ever been or ever cared to be. And while her eyes were alight with anger—he saw recognition flash bright behind them.

  “Oops.” Elizabeth placed the cue down again. “Did I get you?”

  It was then that Will noticed the eight ball lying on the floor beside Caroline’s foot.

  “Sorry,” Elizabeth continued impishly. “That’s the risk you run when you walk into a high stakes game of poke-ball.”

  His first and most primal instinct was to laugh, but one look at the rage that flooded Caroline’s eyes and his mirth died an abrupt death. Caroline Bingley was not someone most people would test—she had destroyed reputations and even taken down a company or two because she’d felt she’d been wronged.

  “Are you stupid?” Caroline asked bluntly. Her tone wasn’t outright menacing, but it didn’t need to be.

  Elizabeth blinked. “No. Are you?”

  “What?”

  “What? I thought we were doing a thing where we asked each other rude questions.”

  Caroline’s face grew stony, which was never a good sign. Also not good—she was still plastered to Will, and he didn’t know how to indicate that he wanted to be released without shoving her away. Caroline had never had much respect for his personal space, but this was pushing it.

  “Well,” she said at last, some of her southern drawl leaking into her voice. Like Charlie and himself, Caroline had worked at eradicating any hint of accent, though she knew when to pull it out. At times it worked for her, whereas it never worked for Will. “Aren’t you just full of moxie?”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Seriously? People still talk like that?”

  “In civilized circles, yes,” Caroline replied coolly. Then she turned to Will and favored him with a cheeky grin. “Go on. Have fun with her. I’ll still be here when you’re done.”

  Will stared at her, his body too warm—unpleasantly warm—from her closeness. “Caroline—”

  “I know, I know.” At last she drew back, the unpleasant smile broadening a bit. “But you know where to find me.”

  Then, thankfully, she turned and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. Will didn’t let out the breath he’d been holding until he saw her turn the corner.

  “So,” Elizabeth said, drawing him back. “Casual fuck who thinks something more serious is going on?”

  Will’s heart stuttered and his brain—a little sluggish now—had to work through what she’d said a few times to determine she hadn’t just propositioned him. “Excuse me?”

  “Am I close?” Elizabeth nodded in the direction Caroline had disappeared. “I swear, she was three seconds from pissing around you to mark her territory.”

  “I… That is…I’m not…” Great. He felt his cheeks heating. This was something he didn’t need. “I’m not…like that.”

  “Like what? Heterosexual? Cool. I didn’t get that vibe from you, but—”

  “No, that’s not what I—” A surge of irritation heated his veins, aimed both at himself for fumbling all over the damn place and her for putting him in a position to fumble. “I don’t do casual relationships.”

  “Ah.” Elizabeth thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, good news for Caroline, then. She definitely doesn’t want anything casual.”

  “Yes, she’s made that perfectly clear over the years.”

  “Uh huh. And I bet you just hate the attention.”

  Will frowned. There was an edge to her voice, something like anger but not quite there. “I don’t care for it, no.”

  “Yet you drew no boundaries.” She waved at him. “She was ready to climb you like a jungle gym and you just stood and let her do it.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “Tell her that you’re not into her.”

  “Just like that?”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Direct and to the point. Guys can do this thing where they drag a girl along. Well, I say guys, but women do it too. Let’s say people. People do this thing where they don’t tell someone how they actually feel, especially when the way they actually feel is go away. It’s partly fear and partly because hey, it feels good to have someone giving you all that attention. Little boost for the ego does wonders.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Oh please. That’s what everyone is doing.”

  “She’s Charlie’s sister.”

  “Even more reason to be upfront.” She paused. “And wow. Poor Charlie.”

  “So your solution to unwanted advances is to hurt the person’s feelings.”

  “No,” Elizabeth replied, drawing out the word. “My solution is to be honest. Feelings might be hurt, embarrassment might be had, but it’s better than the long-term harm.”

  Will arched an eyebrow. “And what is the long-term harm?”

/>   “Hurting their feelings and making them doubt their worth by constantly making them think they might have a chance, but never giving them one.”

  “Hmm. And here I didn’t think you cared for Caroline.”

  Elizabeth held a hand up to her ear. “Hear that? It’s the sound of you missing the point.”

  Will chuckled. “What do you do, then,” he said, “if you do like someone.”

  “I think the term don’t be a dick pretty much covers it.”

  “That is nice and vague.”

  “It doesn’t take much to not be a dick. I don’t see what’s vague about it.”

  Will inclined his head. “What about you, Elizabeth?”

  “What about me?”

  “What would a man need to do to get your interest? Beyond, ahh, not being a dick?”

  A pretty frown crossed her face, and she narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. “Why?”

  “Just curious,” he said. “You are the first woman I can remember meeting that wasn’t…ahh…overt.”

  “Meaning I haven’t thrown myself at you because you’re apparently worth millions.”

  If nothing else, one had to appreciate Elizabeth’s candor.

  “Yes,” Will replied.

  “You seriously have never met a woman who hasn’t drooled all over you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that, but—”

  She barked a laugh, then immediately tried to sober. “Sorry,” she said, but her face was twitching, her mouth seemingly determined to break into a smile. After a handful of seconds, she lost the battle and began laughing in earnest. “Sorry,” she repeated between giggles. “It’s not funny, but it’s…so funny.”

  “That women find me attractive?”

  “That this is what you’d call a problem.”

  “I never said it was a problem.”

  “Of course not,” she replied, trying again for a straight face. “It’s just…the very definition of a first world issue. You meet someone who doesn’t fall all over herself to kiss your ass and you go, hmm, what’s wrong with that one?”

  Will cocked his head, torn between amusement and offense. “You’re good at that.”