Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  “Yes, Derek?”

  “Tragedies are sad, comedies are funny.”

  “That’s good, and mostly correct. What do you think makes Romeo and Juliet a tragedy?”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Because they die.”

  I put my hand up, not wanting to speak out of turn but wanting to give input. Amy nodded. “It’s not just because they died. I mean, people die all the time and while it’s sad, a tragedy is more than that…it’s like, a loss. Something bad that didn’t have to happen, but does because people make the wrong decisions.”

  “Or by not making a decision,” Cole chimed in, his gaze seeking mine.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Well, sometimes people miss out because they don’t make a move, instead of suffering because they do,” he clarified.

  Irritation spiked, mixed with an alarming amount of lust. “People are less likely to get hurt if they play it safe. If Romeo and Juliet had used their brains instead of their…hearts,” I substituted for the kids’ benefit. “They wouldn’t have died.”

  “But they would never have known true love.”

  Cole and I stared at one another, at an impasse. I didn’t know whether or not he meant the discussion to be about something other than the play, but it felt that way to me. Like he was saying that my refusing to go out with him—or anyone I might actually care about—might be more tragic than suffering endless heartbreak when guys let me down.

  “If you two are done with the useless debate about what might have happened to these unfortunate, fictional teens, we can move on.” Amy looked partly amused and partly annoyed.

  She engaged the kids in discussion for another five minutes, answering questions about what decisions Romeo and Juliet made that led to their deaths. The students were especially interested in the idea that the parents had been at least partially to blame.

  I felt hyper-aware of the fact that Cole’s gaze never wandered from me as I offered my Shakespeare expertise to the kids or laughed about their simplistic but accurate way of understanding the story, but he didn’t interrupt again.

  The class broke up when several parents arrived in the back of the room. Caroline put her hands on her hips and pinned me with an impressively hard gaze. “You’re pretty good.”

  “Thank you,” I said, matching her serious tone easily, since she was my mini-me, and all.

  “Is Mister Cole your boyfriend?”

  “What? No.” I cut a quick glance his direction and the small smile on his lips said he’d overheard. “Is he your boyfriend?” I teased her back.

  “I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m only ten.”

  “Ah, got it. That’s very wise. If you want to grow up and be an actress and never let anything get in your way, you should wait to fall in love.”

  “Don’t be silly. Everyone knows you can’t wait to fall in love. It happens even if you don’t want it to, like in the Cinderella movies.”

  I had no idea what Cinderella movies she was referring to, but the wisdom sounded too spot-on for anything involving a fairy tale and a glass shoe, which was utter fucking nonsense. “Talk to me in ten years, Caro.”

  She grinned, exposing the holes in her mouth and looking her age again in the blink of an eye. “Gotta go, my mom’s here. You’ll be back on Thursday?”

  I nodded, feeling warm and happy that at least one of the kids liked me. “Yep. I’ll be here until you’re done with Shakespeare.”

  Caroline raced off the stage and up the aisle, grabbing her backpack and leaving with a woman who looked tired. Probably from wrangling that smart-mouthed kid.

  Cole unfolded his massive frame from the seat and strolled toward me. He reached the edge of the stage and I resisted the urge to scoot away from the force field of nerves and magnetism that surrounded him, not to mention the scent of chlorine. A week ago, I never would have imagined that would be a turn-on, but apparently, this guy could do nothing that wasn’t, at least for me.

  “Go on a date with me.”

  My head jerked up, surprise flooding me. Most guys didn’t have the balls to ask twice. Like the first time, it took me a minute to respond because of the internal war. My brain and heart joined forces against the rest of me, though, and eventually won out. “Can’t. I’m seeing someone.”

  “See me, too.”

  “Cole, you don’t even know me. I promise, you’re going to be fine.”

  Silence descended in the wake of my gentle rejection. It was a little uncomfortable, but for some reason, I didn’t want to be the one to get up and walk away.

  “You’re good with them.” He motioned to the remaining kids milling around in the back of the auditorium.

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  “It’s just…you don’t.…Never mind. There’s no way for me to finish my thought without sounding like a pompous ass. I’m trying to compliment you.”

  I shrugged. “Geoff asked me to help out, said it’s good for me to mingle with theatre people outside of performances. For my career. Plus I get to manipulate kids into loving Shakespeare.”

  “You talk to them like they’re capable of understanding.”

  “They’re not dumb, Cole. They’re kids. Mini-people. They understand life probably better than we do. We’ve started to overthink.”

  His green eyes turned thoughtful. “What do you overthink?”

  There was one hard and fast rule that had kept my heart safe since freshman year—don’t let them see past the cliché. They expected me to act like someone who hadn’t been born into class—loud and brash—so I did. Guys didn’t want anything from me but a couple of fun tumbles, so I pretended that was fine. It was easier to make fun of myself than wait for everyone else to do it first.

  I hadn’t been able to hide as much with Cole today, because the kids deserved better, but that didn’t mean I was going to sit here and bare my soul to a guy I barely knew.

  Ever since Michael, I hadn’t admitted that relationships were a possibility, no matter how badly I might want one, but Emilie and Quinn had shoved that old longing toward the surface. I’d spent the last two years—longer, really—reminding myself every day that unicorns weren’t real. Then Quinn had shown up, magical horn and all, and with an actual unicorn staring me in the face, it got harder and harder to not believe.

  Even if unicorns did exist, I couldn’t afford to believe in them. There was no good reason my mind kept replaying that kiss. Cole wouldn’t want to date me, not seriously, and given his ratings, I didn’t want to waste my time and get my heart smashed in the process.

  I patted him on the cheek. “I’m a girl, Cole. We overthink everything.”

  Chapter Five

  Liam and I were a bad combination—or a good one, depending on how I looked at it. We’d hung out two more times and I’d had a hell of a time not sleeping with him yet, due both to his aggressive, not unskilled advances and my ongoing celibacy.

  I didn’t live hard and fast by the three date rule. I’d slept with guys sooner and also later, and had a couple of one night stands. Liam…I wasn’t sure exactly where he stood on dating. Both times we’d been “out,” it had been at his apartment and the second time his roommates had been home. I was sort of waiting for some kind of signal that he wasn’t gunning for a one-time thing.

  Having to work together threw an extra complication into the mix. No matter how good-looking he was or how perfectly he seemed to fit my criteria, doing anything to risk my performance in front of Geoff’s friends couldn’t happen.

  Liam had suggested hanging out a third time, and had called to ask if I wanted to go to an art house movie this weekend, too. That had to be a good sign. I still wasn’t sure whether to cast Liam in the part of a casual boyfriend, but the time to let him try out the role in the bedroom had come.

  “The Lambda Phi mixer is coming up. Ruby, does the social committee have a report?”

  “What? Oh.”

  Chaney’s voice knocked me out of my Lia
m fantasies and I stood up, smoothing my lilac pencil skirt. Dress clothes weren’t optional for formal meetings. My one hundred and twenty sisters sat in neat rows of folding chairs that the pledges set up in the Chapter Room before meetings, two-hundred and forty eyes waiting for my report on the DE social calendar so they could get the hell out of here and on with their lives.

  “The mixer is at The Wharf, from nine to eleven. Drink specials will be listed on the tables, and we’ve booked a local band. No official transportation since it’s not a date party, but Sober Sister will be operating, so don’t hesitate to call. Also, the Homecoming teams went up this afternoon, and we’re paired with the Lambdas for that, too, so might as well start making friends.” I felt my nose wrinkle but tried to hide it. More required bonding with Whitman’s resident flaunters.

  The meeting adjourned soon afterward and everyone filed into the hallway. Emilie escaped before I did, given that we entered in alphabetical order from the rear, which meant me and my stupid C last name had to spend the most time in here. I loved DE, loved having sisters for the first time in my life, but sometimes the duties and requirements seemed disproportionate to the fun.

  Emilie wasn’t loitering in the overdressed foyer or out on the back porch with our smokers. Brooke saw me snooping around and rolled her eyes, motioning up the stairs. “Lover boy was waiting and she took him upstairs.”

  Quinn was here. Ugh. “Thanks, B.”

  I made sure to knock, even though it was my own damn door and it wasn’t locked. Emilie and I had never instituted a tie-on-the-doorknob policy. Boys were technically not allowed above the first floor of the house, and with all of the alumna advisors milling around downstairs, my roommate had taken a sharp right into daring.

  A couple of grunts, followed by some giggles and hushed curses, followed my knock. Emilie flung open the door, her hair a little out of place and her cheeks pink. “Why on earth are you knocking on our door, doofus? Come in.”

  I peered around her, taking a hesitant step inside, and spotted Quinn lounging on the edge of Em’s bed. He looked as drop-dead gorgeous and put together as ever—the perfectly cut suit and slightly crooked ice blue tie certainly didn’t hurt matters—and gave me a slight smile and a wave.

  “Hey, Ruby.”

  “Hmm.” Quinn and I had come to an unspoken alliance last summer, brokered by our mutual adoration for Emilie, but he’d been such an ass before then that part of me hated to like him.

  “How’s the illicit website business?”

  “I had to tell him, Rubes. He wouldn’t stop checking it. It was obnoxious.”

  “Quinn being obnoxious? I don’t believe it.” I threw her a smile and a small head shake so she knew I wasn’t mad. There had been zero chance she’d keep anything from Quinn.

  “It’s good. Over a hundred ratings in two weeks. Maybe some girls will actually have positive dating experiences this semester, all thanks to little ol’ me.”

  “Maybe. You know the reason this won’t work is because you’re girls, though, right?”

  Emilie gave him a look, and Quinn held up his hands, falling silent. She continued to stare him down, and I hid a smile at how easily my five-foot-three roommate managed to cow her hulking ex-pro athlete boyfriend with such ease.

  “Guys do shit like this all the time, Quinn. Hell, Facebook was started by a bunch of nerds who never got laid running March Madness-style brackets with the girls at Harvard. Why shouldn’t Ruby let us refer the guys who deserve it? At least we’re basing it on real experiences and not looks.”

  Quinn stood up, a grin cracking his handsome face, and slung an arm around Em’s neck, snuggling her into his side. He kissed the top of her head as she struggled loose, still trying but failing to look pissed. “You see why I fell for this beautiful sorpresita, Ruby? She referenced getting laid and basketball in the same sentence. She is a gem. A gem.”

  As he looked down into Emilie’s face, an expression of genuine wonder, with a splash of gratitude, replaced his cocky grin. She stretched up on her toes and slung her arms around his neck, kissing him with more ardor and for longer than made me comfortable, but for some reason it was hard to look away.

  I had told Quinn last summer that they were perfect for each other, that they just fit somehow, like pieces of a puzzle. It was even easier to see when they were together.

  The thought sprung to my mind that Liam and I weren’t like that. Being with him wasn’t uncomfortable, and he turned me on and everything, but it wasn’t like a lock and a key. I didn’t miss him when we weren’t together. My heart didn’t leap when my phone buzzed with a text.

  Out of nowhere, Cole Stuart’s mossy eyes sprang to mind, confident and keen. He’d managed to speed up my heart with a dry kiss and a smile.

  I shook my head and banished that nonsense. For one, I didn’t even know the guy. He’d picked up my pencil in class and played opposite me for a two-minute scene. It didn’t matter that his low ratings made me curious, or the way he’d been so quick to insist he was no hero intrigued me.

  Or the fact that I hadn’t been more tempted to throw out my rules since freshman year.

  Liam might not be Mr. Right, but he fit the bill for Mr. Right Now. I’d had a crush on him for months and we were finally headed somewhere. He would never be the lock to my key, but that was okay.

  None of that had anything to do with Cole.

  “Okay, you guys. I’m not in the mood to clean up my own vomit.”

  They pulled apart, both still looking a little dazed, like they didn’t know how they got here. They needed help focusing, and so did I.

  “Quinn, what do you mean, the website isn’t going to work because we’re women?”

  His previous statement hadn’t been snarky or contemptuous; actually, I’d found that, in a strange way, Quinn had a lot of respect for women.

  There were certainly girls at Whitman who would disagree with me, but he never pulled any punches. Quinn didn’t act as though we were too fragile to get up if he knocked us down. In a perverted, backward, dumbshit and totally Quinn way, his treatment of women displayed inherent belief in our equal strength.

  He cast a nervous glance at Emilie, then shrugged. “Just that you’re not capable of separating sex from feelings. It’s not a bad thing. It’s biology. So the ratings on your site, they’re going to be tainted by other factors than simply performance.”

  “You’d definitely say that if you saw some of your horrible ratings that I’ve been holding back because you’re dating my best friend.”

  It didn’t seem to faze him. “Exactly. I mean, obviously those girls did not go away unsatisfied, physically.”

  “Obviously,” I echoed dryly.

  “So, they’re rating me low or clicking no on the referral because they didn’t like what happened afterward, or they wanted a relationship and I didn’t—”

  “Or you tricked them into falling for you so you could win a bet.”

  “Ruby.” Emilie’s reproachful tone nudged my conscience.

  “No, she’s right, doll. I was an asshole to a lot of girls, and plenty of them have a reason to hate me, but that’s not supposed to be what your website—which I think is brilliant in concept, by the way—is supposed to be about.”

  “What can I do about it?”

  “Nothing. It’s like communism. A great fucking concept, but it doesn’t take human nature into account. Your website can’t compensate for the way women tangle sex up with a bunch of other crap. For instance.” Quinn gestured to my laptop, asking silent permission to log on.

  I nodded and he plopped in the chair and punched a few keys. Emilie scooted forward and dropped a hand on his shoulder, as though she couldn’t stand to not touch him. His free hand reached up and covered hers unconsciously and for some reason, my heart twisted.

  “For instance,” Quinn started again, “Cole Stuart.”

  Just the sound of his name dried out my mouth. What in the hell was the matter with me? It pissed me off, so I snapped at
Quinn because I could. “What about him?”

  Emilie gave me a look, but Quinn didn’t seem to notice anything weird about my reaction. Probably because irritated was my default setting when addressing Quinn.

  “He’s got a disproportionate number of low ratings, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe he’s that bad.”

  Quinn shook his head. “I know the guy. His family is one of the investors in my company and he’s sitting on the board in the States—they’re into water polo and hoping to get more coverage.”

  Theatre Board, Water Polo Board. It was a wonder Cole had any time to go to class or piss off so many girls with all the time he spent Board-ing.

  “So, you know him. Have you slept with him?”

  “You’re being deliberately obtuse, Ruby. It’s not like you. All I’m saying is that, by all accounts, Cole’s a great guy. Smart, considerate, friendly…why would he be any different in a relationship? I’d bet he’s pissing these girls off for a reason other than satisfaction, so they’re rating him low.”

  “Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. It doesn’t matter, though, does it? I mean, the bottom line purpose of the website is for girls to be able to check a guy’s references before going out with him, and if any of his previous girlfriends wouldn’t give him a referral, the reason is kind of moot.”

  “Would you refer a guy who broke your heart?”

  “Yes. I did.” I leaned over his other side and scrolled to Michael’s name, then pointed. “He was a great boyfriend before his parents didn’t approve, but that’s a personal thing.”

  Emilie’s hand left Quinn’s shoulder and reached across his back, squeezing my arm. I didn’t expand any further, and Quinn had the good sense not to ask. He shut my laptop and stood, stretching his long arms above his head until his joints popped. Before attending Whitman, I would never have thought there were men as comfortable in dress clothes as basketball shorts and tees, but they were common here. Quinn looked as at home in his tailored black pinstripes as I felt in lounge pants.

  “I just feel kind of bad for Cole. You’re not…average, Ruby.”