A Higher Education

by Rosalie Stanton

  “You hand a kid a condom and he’s gonna want to have sex,” said a guy from the front of the class. “You’re practically giving him permission.”

  Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Yes. And we know, from the mountain of data at the ready, that if we don’t provide condoms, kids won’t have sex. Congratulations. You just solved teen pregnancy.”

  “There’s a difference between sex education and handing out prophylactics!” the kid continued. “Your way is reckless.”

  “No,” Elizabeth replied. “What’s reckless is ignoring the data that we’ve gathered for the last few years. If kids want to have sex, they’re going to have sex. Not talking about sex or emphasizing an abstinence-only environment gets us nothing but a spike in teen pregnancy and a generation of clueless kids with itchy genitals.”

  A laugh rumbled through the classroom. The guy she was arguing with flushed but didn’t look away from her. “So your answer is to give walking hormones permission to fuck. How is that responsible?”

  “Mr. Zelner,” Professor Greenfield said. “That sort of language is not needed to express a point.”

  “Also, since we’re debating, you might wanna look up what a straw man is,” Elizabeth said.

  “Fuck you, you know-it-all cunt.”

  Will sprang to his feet, an action that went largely unnoticed considering the entire room exploded with noise. At once, everyone was yelling at the guy—none more loudly than Professor Greenfield. From the back of the room, Elizabeth’s housemates were making suggestions that were anatomically impossible but rather creative, and though Will couldn’t say he thought much of them overall, he couldn’t help but swell with pride at their ferocity.

  “In case you were wondering,” Elizabeth said brightly, her voice somehow carrying over the calamity around her, “that’s called an ad hominem. Also not a very effective debate tool.”

  In spite of himself, Will grinned, then wider when she finally met his eyes.

  The contact lasted half a second. She tore her gaze from his and some of the humor faded from her face. As though she’d forgotten he was there until that moment.

  Something inside him gave a pitiful mewl. His brain, sluggish and reluctant, tried to provide a reason but came up empty.

  How could she want to pretend it hadn’t happened?

  It took a few seconds for the noise around his head to start sounding like words again. By the time he clued back in, Professor Greenfield was yelling at the back of a departing student. Will shot a look to the space the kid had occupied—empty. A coil of satisfaction unfurled, then closed again when he remembered the woman sitting beside him.

  “All right,” Professor Greenfield said, turning back to the students. “Well, that was certainly…lively. Mendelson is quite divisive, but I have never had anything like that happen in a class before.”

  Elizabeth wet her lips and shifted in her seat. Will pulled his eyes off her and tried to focus on what the professor was saying.

  “I suppose I should have laid some ground rules on day one. Silly me, thinking you’re all college students and capable of having adult conversations.” Her gaze landed briefly on the desk the student had vacated. “Needless to say, here is the only rule that, if broken, will get your ass kicked out of my class so fast your head will spin. We do not attack the speaker, ever. What Mr. Zelner called Ms. Bennet was not only uncalled for—it was uncivil. Debate means that—debate. We will not always agree with stances others take, but we must treat each other with respect.” She looked at Elizabeth. “On his behalf, I apologize.”

  Will tried not to follow the professor’s gaze and failed.

  Elizabeth shrugged. “Not my first misogynist. Won’t be my last, either.”

  “Just because he doesn’t agree with you doesn’t make him a misogynist,” the blonde from Will’s debate group—Penelope—said, her tone frosty.

  “No, but the fact that his go-to insult was cunt sure as hell does.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  Perhaps sensing another blowup was imminent, Professor Greenfield raised a hand. “All right. I think that’s enough for today. We’re not getting anywhere. Instead of discussion, I’d like a minimum of five pages on the Mendelson reading by Friday.”

  “Oh no!” Lydia whined from the back.

  “This should be simple as most of you, undoubtedly, have an opinion on the subject of condoms in schools. Provide your response to Mendelson’s argument with sources. I want no less than three cited.” The professor collected her briefcase and heaved a long sigh. “Office hours from one to three this afternoon. Happy Monday.”

  With that, she made a hasty escape.

  The room exploded once more in a flurry of hurried conversation, some excited about what had happened—after all, those sorts of outbursts weren’t common at Meryton—and others bemoaning the unexpected assignment. Will sat quietly as Elizabeth gathered her things, not knowing what he was waiting for but waiting all the same. Hoping she’d look at him again, give him some sort of indication what was going on in her head.

  She didn’t. Once her books were back in her bag, she turned for the door.

  And that was it. Something in him snapped. Will cursed and shot to his feet again. He debated leaving his things where they were but decided it would be better to not have to return here and draw more attention to himself. Whatever was happening between him and Elizabeth wasn’t anyone’s business, and if he took off without his things, it’d be obvious that she was the reason.

  Still, it was harder to catch up with someone when shouldering thirty pounds of text books.

  Elizabeth usually turned left when leaving Greenfield’s class, so Will did the same. The hallways were thankfully empty, being that most classes were still in session. He became intently aware of how much noise he was making, his heavy steps plonking against the ground, his breaths hurried and loud, his pulse racing in his ears. When he rounded the corner and spied her halfway down the corridor, his rational brain clicked off.

  “Elizabeth!”

  He expected her to ignore him. She didn’t. Instead, she stopped dead in her tracks, her shoulders slumping.

  “What?” she asked without turning around.

  Will picked up his pace. “We need to talk.”

  “About what?”

  “What do you mean, about what?” He drew to a halt beside her, aching as his lungs clamored for oxygen. “About what happened the other night.”

  Elizabeth turned to face him but still didn’t meet his eyes. “Why?”

  “Why?”

  “Why do we need to talk about it? It happened. The end. There’s no need to go over it.”

  Will blinked at her. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I look serious?”

  “I dunno. Why don’t you try looking at me and we’ll see?”

  That did it. Her brilliant gaze swung upward, sparking with fire he knew she couldn’t contain. And though it wasn’t exactly what he wanted to see when she looked at him, he was glad to see anything at all.

  “It happened,” she repeated slowly, her cheeks reddening, which intrigued him, since it was clear she was clamoring for control. “But there’s no need to talk about it. It’s over.”

  Will stared at her. “You can just do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Turn it off. Whatever it is you’re feeling.”

  Elizabeth stepped back, her eyes going wide. “Who says I’m feeling anything?” she demanded.

  “Look, I was there too. I know what I saw.”

  “No, you know what you wanted to see.”

  “What happened in the parking lot wasn’t just me, and we both know that what happened in your room wasn’t just me, either.”

  “You wanna say that a little louder for the people in the cheap seats?”

  He looked around to see if they had indeed drawn a crowd, but the hallway remained vacant. Then something occurred to him. “So now that something actually happened, it matters wh
at I say? What happened to not caring what other people think?”

  Elizabeth blinked as though confused, then rolled her eyes. “I don’t care what people think. I just don’t think all conversations should be equipped with a megaphone.”

  Will barked a laugh. “You’re unbelievable. You nearly tear my head off for trying to be discreet over something that didn’t happen and now you’re—”

  “People are in class!” she spat. “This isn’t a parking lot, it’s a hallway. Do you need me to draw you a diagram?”

  “If you think it’ll help me keep up with you.”

  “There’s nothing to keep up with. You’re a smart guy, Will. I’d think you’d be able to tell the difference between a club and a school.”

  Will pushed himself forward another step. “Okay. You don’t feel anything.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can you tell me why you let me… If you feel nothing, why did it happen?”

  Elizabeth squirmed a bit, though she didn’t drop her gaze from his. As though now maintaining eye contact was a personal challenge. “Because sometimes people do stupid things.” She gestured between them. “Case in point.”

  Will arched an eyebrow, his feet carrying him toward her another step. He was asking for it, he knew, but he didn’t have the will to pull himself away at the moment. His blood pumped and his temples throbbed, and he needed her to say it—to own it—once and for all so he stood a chance of moving on.

  “So I’m a stupid thing you did.”

  “I didn’t do you.”

  “By virtue of the fact that neither one of us had a condom.” Will shook his head, heaving a laugh that he didn’t feel. “But maybe that was for the best, if what happened was so stupid.” He looked at her a moment longer before giving his head a shake. “Guess we’re done here.”

  Never mind that a piece of himself had broken in a way he didn’t think could ever be fixed. It was dumb, beyond dumb to feel like this over her. It had been dumb enough to let himself fantasize all weekend when he’d known there was no way she was on nearly the same page as him. He’d done a lot of work to convince himself it was possible, but the truth had always been within reach. He just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.

  Because, dammit, he didn’t want to be done.

  Apparently, neither did she.

  “That easy, huh?” Elizabeth said.

  Will paused, having been about to turn away from her and put as much space between them as possible. “What?”

  “I guess I expected more of a fight from you.”

  “I’m not the kind of guy who fights to stay in a woman’s life. If she says she wants me gone, I’m gone.”

  Elizabeth’s looked torn between pleased with this response and annoyed by it, which only served to make him more confused than he had been a moment ago.

  Will couldn’t help it. He laughed.

  Elizabeth blanched. “What?”

  “You don’t know what you want.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I chase you and you shove me away. I back off and you yank me back.”

  She brought her hands up. “I am not yanking. There is no yanking.”

  “Then what was that about?”

  “What?”

  “You expected more of a fight from me?” He spread his arms. “That’s not who I am. Never has been.”

  Something flashed across her eyes—confusion followed by defiance.

  “Then who are you?” she asked.

  Will arched an eyebrow. “Who am I?”

  “With all I hear, a girl has to wonder. It’s all over the place with you.”

  “I guess that depends on who you talk to.”

  “And if I talked to George Wickham?”

  There it was. Will released a long breath, struggling to maintain eye contact with her because he knew it was important. Yet on a primal level, he wanted to rip away and roar his frustration.

  “Wickham talks to a lot of people,” he said, his brain stumbling over itself to find the right, measured words. “While he’s not good at keeping friends, he’s very good at making them.”

  “He told me you were friends once. Was that a lie?”

  Will felt his temper tip into dangerous territory. His need to know what Wickham was telling people was dwarfed only by his need to ignore the man completely and hope that Wickham lost interest if he saw he couldn’t get a rise out of him.

  So he decided on a roundabout version of the truth.

  “He was a friend once. He’s not now.”

  “Why?” Elizabeth pressed.

  “Because he’s not.” Will broke off, searching. “There are certain lines you never cross. Ever. If you do, then I’m through with you.”

  “Then I’m sorry for him,” Elizabeth said. “Losing your friendship seemed to really cost him.”

  He barked another laugh.

  “What?” Now she sounded pissed. “That’s funny?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pretty damn cold, Darcy.”

  If all she knew about the situation was that he and Wickham had once been friends, he supposed it would seem cold. But he could live with that—until he was certain he could trust her with the truth.

  And if that was her understanding of the situation… Well, it was a relief. There was little chance she’d hold back if there was anything else.

  Hell, with as little crap as Elizabeth took from anyone, Wickham had probably set off her bullshit alarm faster than a politician during election season.

  “I don’t want to talk about Wickham,” he said at last. “I want to talk about what happened the other night. About you and me.”

  “We already did.”

  “You called it dumb.”

  “Yes.”

  “But it wasn’t.” He stepped forward, right into her space, and something within him roared with triumph when she didn’t back up. Instead, those wonderfully expressive eyes of hers widened before darkening. “It wasn’t random, either. You went home from that club and touched yourself. Thinking of me.”

  Elizabeth didn’t respond, nor did she look away, despite the blush scaling up her neck. This was one of the things he admired most about her. She didn’t back down. Didn’t hide when he might expect her to, or get embarrassed easily.

  Instead, she held his gaze, defiant.

  “And,” he said, pressing closer, “you opened the door and let me in.”

  “I slammed the door on you first.” Her voice wasn’t as firm as it had been a moment ago.

  “Yes, but then you opened it.” His own gaze had fallen to her lips and become trapped there, transfixed. “And it was… Touching you was…”

  He didn’t know how to finish that. Words escaped him.

  She released a ragged breath, and he looked up again just in time to see her focus on his mouth, and he knew it was over.

  Will’s hands moved of their own accord, capturing Elizabeth’s face as she flew to him. That same thrill raced up his spine—the one that had chased him all weekend, haunted him before he found sleep, and drove him to hope a little too much. But this was easy, and they seemed to be good at it.

  Elizabeth tugged him down and then his mouth was on hers and everything around him began to fade. He’d had time to wonder if his mind had exaggerated their chemistry. Exaggerated her taste. But no, she tasted amazing. Her lips hot on his, wrestling away kisses that made his mind go loopy. It was unfair that she felt this good, that his body, happily ignoring the weak warnings issued by his mind, responded to her with enthusiasm. And then it didn’t matter—nothing mattered—because Elizabeth was pressed against him. Her tongue stroking his tongue, her lips tugging on his, her hands tangling their way through his hair as she rolled her pelvis to meet his thickening cock.

  This was not the place to do this, but the part of him that cared was quickly losing its steam.

  Elizabeth broke the kiss well before he was ready, gasping for air. She stayed still for so long he could practically hear her brain w
orking, even if he couldn’t make out what it was saying. Exasperation battled with need and ultimately bowed to want.

  She might be the most infuriating woman on the planet, but he wanted her anyway.

  He liked her anyway.

  Hell, as far-gone as he was, he figured he might be falling in love with her. And that was truly terrifying.

  Elizabeth opened her eyes and met his without faltering. Will’s lungs were working overtime. She studied him long enough to give him a complex, then seized one of his hands and tugged.

  He didn’t ask where they were going. At the moment, he would follow her anywhere.

  Even if anywhere happened to be a maintenance closet.

  Elizabeth shoved the door closed behind her and shucked off her backpack. He barely had time to do the same before she was on him again, that hot mouth of hers tearing at his. Will tried to hold back a whimper and failed, the last strands of reason vanishing as her tongue teased his lips. The last of his anger gave one last rallying cry before fading altogether.

  Apparently taking rational thought away with it. Because the Will he knew had vanished, transformed into some bizarre hybrid creature that had no sense of self control. He’d never been big on public displays of affection, never mind sneaking into some darkened corner to rub against a woman like some hormone-addled teenager. With other girls, Will had been careful to temper his physical reactions as much as possible. Not to just come at them like some horny farm animal. But every stroke of Elizabeth’s mouth against his chipped another piece of him away, leaving behind a pulsing cluster of pure animal want. It unnerved him but not enough to stop. To pull back. To care.

  “God,” Will murmured between kisses, unable to keep himself from thrusting his hips against her. His cock hit her center and she whimpered before thrusting back.

  Then he felt something else—her hand was between them. On him.

  Cupping him.

  Pulling down the zipper to his jeans.

  Will pulled back to look at her, straining in the dark. He couldn’t see her face. “What—”

  But then his cock was free and between them, and her hand closed around him with a tender squeeze. Will blinked madly, then let out a long moan.

  Elizabeth released a shuddering breath, leaned in and caught his lower lip between her teeth. She squeezed his cock again before developing a steady rhythm. Up and down, base to tip.