“At what?”
“Taking something someone said and twisting it around.”
“I’m not twisting anything. You just asked what it takes to get my motor revving because I’m the first girl you’ve met who isn’t turned on by dollar signs.”
“That isn’t what I said at all.” The seesaw landed firmly on offense, and a bubble of irritation bloomed in the middle of his chest. “I was just wondering—”
“Yeah, I know what you were wondering.” Elizabeth shook her head. “The answer is being honest. Kind. Compassionate. Empathetic. And, while we’re at it, I’ll add smart and funny to the list. Must not be arrogant or cruel or think that he’s God’s freaking gift. In other words, you gotta be a unicorn.”
“A unicorn?”
“Mythical creature. That’s what does it for me. The mythical creature known as the genuine good guy.”
Some of the irritation began to ebb. “There are good guys out there.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Yeah. They’re fantastic. So good they’ll catcall you or send you dick pics, then follow-up with rape threats when you don’t thank them for their attention.”
“I think your definition of good guy might need some revisions.”
“Will, I have met exactly zero self-proclaimed good guys who are actually that. And believe me, every man-creature out there is bound and determined to prove they’re just a good guy who can’t catch a break. Those exact words, in fact. If I had a penny for every time I’d heard them, I’d have more money than you.” She broke off, sighing. “That’s just part of being a girl. Turn down a guy when he asks you out. Leave a comment on a news article. Exist on the internet at all. This is what we get. And we’re the lucky ones. Too many women get much, much worse.”
Will recoiled, irritation fully gone now, replaced with shock. If this was true, there was a nice doorless tower in Georgiana’s future. He didn’t think he could go through the Wickham ordeal with her again. It would send him to the grave sixty years early.
“That’s awful,” he said for lack of anything more profound. Because it was awful, and more than that—it was terrifying.
Elizabeth nodded. “That’s life. And one of the many reasons why I’m off relationships. Too much bullshit to wade through to find someone even kinda decent.”
“Off…relationships? That sounds a little extreme.”
“Depends on your point of view.”
“But the men I’d assume you’d be with aren’t like those you mentioned,” he replied, frowning. “So what does this actually achieve? You weren’t going to give them the time of day anyway.”
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, her expression softening. “Avoidance of pain.”
“What?”
“That’s what I achieve.”
Will swallowed. “Not all relationships are pain, you know. Some people even make it work.”
“In your universe?”
“My folks were happily married, so yes.”
She nodded, pressing her lips into a solemn line. “Good for them. Seriously. But that’s the exception, not the rule. Believe me when I say I’ve seen it go the other way and no thank you. I’ll stick to my no-relationship diet.”
“Even if the right guy comes along?”
“Especially if the right guy comes along.”
He waited for his heart to catch up with his mind, for everything he’d just learned about her to cement. He wasn’t even sure she knew how much she’d revealed about herself.
It didn’t take much to put together why she felt the way she did—from what he’d overheard of her call with her mother combined with what she’d shared that first day of class, things at home were not idyllic. While Will had never been in the front row of a marriage dissolution, he certainly had enough friends and relatives whose families had been torn apart. The example in his home had been the opposite—for the right person, love was worth everything.
Even the pain that came with saying goodbye.
“So that,” Elizabeth said, returning the cue to its place, “is about the full of it. Have any more questions?”
Yes. About five hundred, but Will knew when to wave a white flag, and now was that moment. He cleared his throat and shook his head. “No.”
“Then I’m going to go see what the forecast is.” She started toward him—or rather the door. He happened to be in the way. “’Cause it’s going to be past my bedtime soon.” Elizabeth paused when she reached him, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of uncertainty enter her eyes. “Umm, I don’t want to be a nuisance, but I’m going to gnaw off my arm if I don’t get some food in me.”
“Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen.”
She offered him a small smile. “Thanks.”
Then she was gone, moving down the hall, and around a corner toward the front. Will watched her but didn’t follow. Not yet. His head, allowed a free moment, began to flood with everything he’d learned—everything she’d said. And the fact that, despite everything, the feelings he’d realized he had hadn’t gone away.
If anything, they were stronger than they had been. That couldn’t be a good sign.
He was fucked.
9
Apparently, Elizabeth had done something to piss off the weather gods. Rather than tapering off, the storm system seemed to get uglier the older the night became. Concerns about getting back to Longbourn in time to get any of her work done had been exchanged for worry that she might not get back at all tonight. The most optimistic reports showed the storms finally crying uncle in the neighborhood of three in the morning.
Elizabeth blew out a breath and placed her phone back on the couch’s arm. After wolfing down a turkey sandwich, she had asked Will if he would mind letting her borrow his books. The temptation had been there to remind him of his earlier offer of studying together, but the fact that she found herself wanting to hang around him more—even a little—meant she was edging into dodgy territory. Because she’d enjoyed talking with him. Watching him. While their conversation had been charged, it hadn’t been hostile, and the fact that she’d had just as much fun doing that as she had arguing could only lead to very bad things.
As it was, Will hadn’t repeated his offer to study with her. He’d given her the textbook and gone back to whatever it was he’d been doing and she’d tried to not be disappointed.
And she wasn’t disappointed. Nope. Not her.
Elizabeth sighed and tore a hand through her hair, which was still damp in places from her cross-campus mid-monsoon hike. Thick hair was envied by many, but it could be a genuine pain in the ass. She was already dreading her next date with a hairbrush, being that she wasn’t the hugest fan of scalp torture. The tangles her fingers encountered were painful enough.
She cast a glance toward the windows that overlooked the common area just in time to see a menacing bolt of lightning zigzag to the ground. Three seconds later came the crack of thunder, booming with such intensity the walls shook and the lights flickered.
Yeah, she wasn’t going anywhere tonight.
“This is where I’m going to die,” Elizabeth muttered, dropping her face into her hands. “And Jane is never getting another favor from me ever again.”
Especially considering the utter futility of this favor. Not only had the tampons been useless by the time Elizabeth had made it here, Caroline had arrived in the interim and helped Jane to her supply. So Elizabeth had lost an evening of studying for no good reason, and she’d been stuck with no one for company but Will…and she hadn’t minded that as much as she should.
Will had surprised her. A lot. And she’d found herself warming to him in ways she didn’t want to warm to anyone. Anytime she’d found someone mildly interesting, she’d find whatever reason she could to run hard and fast in the opposite direction, because if something seemed too good to be true, it typically was.
Will didn’t seem too good to be true, and that actually scared her more. Rather, he seemed real.
Elizabeth forc
ed herself to her feet, grabbed the book Will had lent her, and started for the stairs. Once outside his door, she hesitated only a moment before knocking. There was a chance he was already in bed asleep, but she didn’t think so. Will didn’t strike her as the type to fall into bed before resolving immediate problems, and her continued presence here certainly qualified.
Sure enough, after he opened the door, she saw the lights in his room were on and the television was playing in the background. He likewise hadn’t changed out of his jeans.
“Hi,” he said simply.
“Hi.” Elizabeth licked her lips and pushed the book forward. “Thanks. For letting me borrow that.”
He accepted it with a nod. “Of course.”
“And…well, I’m not sure if you have any spare gopher wood lying around, because it’s Ark time.”
“Ark time?”
She nodded. “The rain hasn’t stopped. I… I don’t want to be an imposition, but would it be okay if I crashed on the couch?”
Understanding lit his eyes. “Oh. Of course, yes.”
“Thanks.” She crossed her arms, her cheeks heating, though she had no idea why and found this irritating. “Is there—”
But Will was already in motion. “Come in,” he said as he stepped back into his room. “Let me get you set up.”
Elizabeth swallowed, not sure for a moment if he meant in his room or elsewhere, and she didn’t want to chance his hospitality by asking. But Will was harmless, so if he got the wrong idea, she could set him straight. She drew in a breath and stepped over the threshold for the second time that day.
Will had disappeared into the attached bath. When he returned, his arms were full of quilts and one fluffy looking pillow.
“You keep all that in your bathroom?”
“In the linen cupboard.”
Of course he had a linen cupboard. Wonder of wonders the toilet wasn’t carved out of solid gold.
Elizabeth bit her tongue. “You must’ve been a boy scout.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’ve never known a college guy to have that much bedding just on hand.”
“I’m not most college guys.”
Understatement of the year.
Will shifted his weight and tipped forward. “Can you grab the pillow? I’ve got the rest.”
She did as asked, then followed him back downstairs and to the common area. The storm outside was still raging, flooding the area with the occasional stab of light before the ground shook with thunder. Will led her straight to the plush couch she’d parked at earlier and began setting up her makeshift bed.
“What time’s your first class?”
“Seven,” she said, watching him work. “Hey, I can do that—”
“You’re a guest,” he replied. “And seven?”
“I have my phone. I’ll set an alarm for six so I can start on the way back to Longbourn to grab a shower and my things.”
Will frowned and looked up. “I’ll take you.”
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “No, you can’t.”
“If it’s still storming, you’ll be stuck here anyway. The campus shuttle pick up is nearby, but it’ll take forever to get around to Longbourn, and you’ll likely be late.”
“I’ll get up earlier.”
“Elizabeth, I’ll take you. You can shower here to save time, and we can swing by your dorm after. I have to be at class by eight, anyway.”
“How exactly are you going to take me? Aren’t you parked in the garage on the other side of the world?”
“Yes,” he said. “But I am resourceful.”
“Resourceful enough to get your vehicle here overnight?”
“Resourceful enough to have Lyft programmed on my phone. I’ll have them pick us up here; we’ll swing by Longbourn so you can get your things and do what you need to do, and then get to class.”
Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to say. “I…that’s…you really don’t have to do that.”
“No,” he agreed, “but I was going to anyway, so you might as well take advantage. This will be easier.”
“You weren’t planning on going by Longbourn,” she said. “It’s out of the way—”
“It’s a favor, Elizabeth.”
Yes, she knew. She didn’t like favors. The ones she’d been dealt in the past came attached to all sorts of strings. But she couldn’t deny his solution sounded a lot easier than whatever she’d have come up with at the ass-crack of dawn, particularly with a rough night ahead. If she didn’t have a plan worked out, she was liable to keep herself awake worrying about sleeping too late or not having enough time to get to class, and she didn’t sleep well on couches to begin with.
“Okay,” she said at last.
Will smiled. “Okay.” He looked down at the sofa, now made up with the quilt he had brought down. “Do you need anything else?”
Elizabeth shook her head, rubbing her arms. “No. You’ve been…very nice.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
She felt her mouth twitch. “Thanks for all this. Seriously. I showed up unannounced and kinda ruined your afternoon.”
“You didn’t ruin anything except the game of pool.”
She snickered at that and pressed forward, suddenly exhausted. The long day had caught up with her and she was ready to lie down. “My way was better.”
Will studied her a moment, then moved out of the way and around the coffee table. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
“I think I’m set,” she replied, dropping onto the couch. “’Night, Will.”
He looked at her a moment longer—a moment that seemed to stretch into hours. The wheels behind his eyes were in motion, the desire to say something else palpable. His mouth opened and his brow furrowed, and she found she felt his presence in a way not unlike that first day in class. He seemed to dominate the space around him, which she found surprising and more than a little unnerving.
At last, though, the silence broke. “Good night,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked away.
10
Elizabeth awoke in Will’s bed. This was cause for alarm. She distinctly remembered not going to sleep in Will’s bed, rather having spent the better part of an hour trying to get sleeping-comfortable on an otherwise perfectly comfortable sofa.
But she knew before she opened her eyes that she was not on the sofa anymore. The pillow smelled like Will—which also alarmed her, as she hadn’t been aware that she knew him well enough to pick his scent out of a lineup. When she forced her eyes open, she found herself staring at the navy paint that made up the colors of his dorm room. Other sensory details began to filter in, like the beep of the clock beside her head and the sound of running water.
Will was in the shower.
Elizabeth rolled over, her legs tangled in his blankets. She gave the room a thorough once over—yep, this was not the downstairs—and slammed her palm on the clock’s snooze function.
Then the fogginess in her head lifted and she remembered.
The storm had lasted forever. Elizabeth had slept fitfully for a couple hours, drifting in that awful place that didn’t feel like sleep or wakefulness. After midnight, she’d started panicking about falling asleep at all. Worrying about falling asleep was not the best sleeping aid, as she knew all too well, but telling her brain to knock it off with the worry had never been effective.
Her inner dialogue had been interrupted by noise from the floor above. A few minutes later, Will had plodded downstairs. She’d thought his destination the kitchen at first, but he’d made a beeline straight for her the second his feet hit the floor.
“Have you slept?” he’d asked.
Elizabeth had shaken her head.
He’d looked at her hard, his mouth a firm line. “Okay,” he’d said, and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
It was either a testament to how surprised or sleepy she’d been that she hadn’t argued. That was, until, Will had marched her across the thre
shold of his dorm room and told her to take the bed. He’d said something else, something that had appeased the immediate protest that had bubbled inside her at the thought. Not that it would have taken much—her sleepy brain had been too enchanted by the sight of an actual bed to put up much of a fight.
She’d tumbled onto the mattress and fallen asleep the second her eyes closed.
And now she was in his room. In his bed. And he was showering.
A thrill raced down Elizabeth’s spine as she racked her mind to recall whether or not Will had slipped into bed beside her. Given the fact that she was not pressed against the wall, she didn’t think so. He would have had to climb over her to get to the bathroom. And she had apparently burritoed herself with the blankets thoroughly enough that anyone who would have thought to share them would have had a fight on their hands.
The shower in the other room shut off, leaving a void where sound had once been. Elizabeth began struggling to un-burrito herself. While smart money was on the bet that Will, while definitely in possession of douche characteristics, wasn’t a sex offender, she preferred to not be incapacitated by bedding while in a relative stranger’s bedroom. Had she been thinking clearly last night, she wouldn’t have followed him up here in the first place.
She had just managed to detangle her legs when the bathroom door opened and a shirtless Will stepped into the room.
Elizabeth abruptly froze.
The man-appreciating heterosexual woman inside her had assessed Will the night they met and declared him a babe. Then he’d opened his mouth and the man-appreciating heterosexual woman inside of her head been shoved aside by the anti-relationship-feminist. Granted, the reason he’d opened his mouth was that she’d opened hers, but she’d at least had the good sense to realize she was being an asshat. Still, ever since that night, the part of her that recognized Will was indeed attractive had been shouted down by more rational voices.
Now, though, those rational voices were hoarse. Because as nice as Will looked in clothes, he looked infinitely better out of them. The shirts he favored, she now saw, were on the baggy side, which had the unfortunate side-effect of concealing his hard chest and lean, wiry build. His arms came with defined muscle, his abdomen with one of those six-packs she’d seen in magazines but had never witnessed in real life. Every part of him was entirely lickable, which had the man-appreciating heterosexual woman alert in ways Elizabeth hadn’t been alert in years.
A Higher Education Page 9
