by Lyla Payne
“That’s a vivid word picture. Perhaps you should consider writing.” I tried hard to make it a joke, but he would have to be daft to miss the bite in my tone.
Liam turned his head, dark eyes studying me seriously. A hint of an apology softened the knot at the back of my neck. “I didn’t mean anything, Ruby. I like you. You’re a lot of fun, and you’re talented and sexy as fuck. But we come from different planets. You understand, right?”
It made sense. It did. I knew better than anyone how hard it was to truly step across the line between poor and rich, and that even with the money to back it up, there was a certain strata of society that would always reject new blood. Liam didn’t understand that all the fame and money in the world wouldn’t change where he started. The knowledge that one day he would, and that it would be a bad day, made me toss an arm over his chest and squeeze.
So we needed a little work in bed. Liam and I were two peas in a pod. Two people who would never quite fit into the world they inhabited, or in Liam’s case, wanted to inhabit. I had no doubt the guy in my arms would make it one day. Maybe not A-list, but he was more than good enough to work in Hollywood for a steady paycheck, no blowjobs necessary.
No matter what I’d told Cole, there was no need to overanalyze this particular relationship. If we could work out the sex, it would be fun while it lasted. When I finally fell asleep to the sound of light snores, it might have been with a smile.
***
Liam dropped me in the theatre parking lot the next morning, Sunday, and sped off after promising to call me later that day. A weak splatter of raindrops dotted the concrete and asphalt, dressed the metal poles and my dusty red Acura in polka dots, and a rumble of thunder promised more to come. I jabbed the unlock button on my key fob.
Nothing happened.
I unlocked the door using the key and crawled inside, sorry my wet clothes would soak the tan leather seats. My father had instilled in me a freakish addiction to keeping a clean car. The guys at the local carwash and I were on a first-name basis.
The car didn’t start when I turned the key; the radio didn’t come on and neither did my windshield wipers. A glance at the dome light revealed the problem and yesterday came rushing back; I’d dropped my lip gloss and had turned the light on to find it before rehearsal. Son of a bitch.
As though on cue, the sky let loose with a torrent of fat raindrops and my phone, dead from a night with no charger, mocked me with its blank face. There was nothing close to the theatre except a church across the street, and even though I certainly wasn’t dressed for Mass, it seemed to be my only option. No one would be in at the theatre until tomorrow morning and the last thing I needed was a bunch of panicked sorority girls calling in a missing persons report.
Stupid Liam. It was common courtesy to wait until a girl started her car or locked the front door of the house behind her before leaving…wasn’t it? I was pretty sure I hadn’t imagined that one, and we’d had plenty of sorority meetings that revolved around proper etiquette.
Except he’d reminded me last night that he hadn’t been raised the way I had. That was exactly what I’d wanted—a guy who didn’t realize that my money wasn’t as good as everyone else’s at Whitman. Liam just needed a little more training, was all.
Not that it would help me at the moment.
I got out of the car, soaked to the bone within seconds, and splashed to the edge of the parking lot. My mother would be so disappointed that I didn’t keep an umbrella in my car the way she’d always lectured, but in this kind of torrential downpour, it wouldn’t have been much help.
Cars splashed past on the main road at intervals too perfectly timed for me to make a dash for shelter. Bells rang, muted by the sound of rain and the occasional clap of thunder, and the gray stone Catholic church across the street looked like a desert mirage, and just as impossible to reach. A car swerved toward me, a black Lincoln, and showered my legs with an extra waterfall.
When the back door flew open, I was ready to let someone have it for nearly running me over, but the sight of Cole Stuart stopped me cold.
Chapter 7
He was dressed for Mass, in black pants and a shirt and tie, wearing them every bit as effortlessly as Quinn had in my room last week. The driver got out, hustling around with a giant umbrella, but Cole waved him away.
Rain soaked through his white button-up and the T-shirt underneath, molding the material to every single muscle rippling across his swimmer’s chest. It made me hyper-aware of my own light pink dress and I looked down, heat filling my cheeks at the sight of my obvious soaked chill.
“What are you doing out here?” Cole yelled over another clap of thunder.
I shook my head, water flying off my face and hair, then pointed to my car. “My battery’s dead and so is my phone. I was going to walk over to the church and call someone.”
“Get in.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m fine.”
I didn’t want to get in that car with him. His green eyes were a little too attentive, and the sight of him gave me a little too much of a thrill, but that wasn’t the root trouble. Brushing off Cole still seemed easy right now, and I liked my life black and white.
“Ruby, yer talking mince. I’m not going to do anything except help you get home.”
I paused another moment, trying to decipher what exactly he’d just said and whether I should be offended, then a massive, jagged bolt of lightning changed my mind. I scurried into the backseat of the Town Car and took the towel the driver handed through the partition, using it to cover my chest instead of dry off.
Cole leaned in and reached out his hand. “Give me your keys.”
“What? Why?”
“So we can start your car.”
“I’m not a moron, Cole. I know how to start a car, and mine—”
“Are you always this stubborn in the napper?” He stared at me, squinting through the water running in rivers out of his thick blond hair and down his face. “Sorry. Are you always this hardheaded?”
His accent went straight to my head. My napper, apparently. Not to mention my teeth were chattering from the cold and water coated every inch of me. I just wanted to go home.
My keys fell into his outstretched palm and he slammed the door, then went around and said something to the driver. The Town Car followed Cole as he hustled back across the parking lot to my car and pulled up so that the front ends almost touched.
“Mr. Stuart said to tell you there’s a blanket in the cubby across from you, if you’re chilled, Miss.”
“Thank you.”
He got out, huddled under the useless umbrella, and popped the hood. Cole had done the same, meaning they planned to jump start my poor, dead Acura. It made me wonder how a boy with his own driver learned to jump start cars.
The blanket warmed me a little, stopping my shakes and chatters, and when Cole slid into the backseat a few minutes later, I felt better enough to feel ashamed of my snappishness with him.
He shook his head, water droplets flying off him in every direction. “Man, that storm came out of nowhere!”
“Florida autumns,” I supplied lamely. Were we really talking about the weather?
I kept my eyes averted as best as I could, but the way his wet clothes clung to his thick chest was like a magnet to my eyeballs. Heat that had nothing to do with the blanket swelled under my skin.
“Your car started, but we’re going to wait a few minutes to give it some extra juice to make sure it’ll start tomorrow when you need to go to class.” I nodded. “How’d you manage this predicament, anyway?”
“My boyfriend dropped me off at my car but I couldn’t catch him once I realized it was dead.” It was a bit of a fudge. I couldn’t have caught Liam before a fart caught the wind.
“Ah.” Cole’s eyes darkened to the color of ripe limes, his lips pursed in disapproval.
“He didn’t know my car wouldn’t start.”
“How could he?”
“He couldn’t. But you
had a look like he’d done something wrong.”
A lengthy pause expanded the growing tension in the back of the Lincoln. Finally, Cole shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “Where I come from, only a real twally doesn’t make sure his girl gets home safe.”
“You realize I have no idea what that means.”
“That’s why I chose it.”
It clearly wasn’t a nice thing. This was exactly what I hated about Whitman guys. They thought they knew everything, were above everyone else just because they’d been born with silver spoons in their mouths—and Lambda Phi’s like Cole Stuart were the worst.
“Well, not everyone can be as perfect as you, I suppose.”
His eyes changed again, a slight shift in color that seemed to accompany a similar adjustment in mood. He turned his gaze out the window, the judgment in his tone softening until I barely heard his response. “Trust me, I’m far from perfect.”
Before, Liam’s leaving me in the parking lot had pissed him off. Now Cole appeared more sad than anything else. I’d clearly hit another nerve, maybe one connected to the one I’d smacked at the theatre the other day. He wasn’t a hero or perfect. Noted.
“Well, you obviously think you’re better than Liam. And you’re like, royalty or some shit. That’s the rumor.”
“I am royalty or some shit, but it’s just an old title that means very little in the grand scheme of the world outside Scotland. Or even in Scotland, frankly. It doesn’t mean I haven’t made mistakes. As far as Liam—your boyfriend?” I nodded again, mesmerized by the way his lips formed such perfectly rounded words. Not to mention just his lips in general. “I don’t know him, so judging him would be presumptuous. I am merely upset that he left you to suffer alone.”
“Suffer? I’m not a starving orphan—it’s just a little rain.” The protest felt weak coming off my tongue. Every word coming out of Cole’s mouth belied my snap judgment of him, based on both his family and my interaction with Chaney. He seemed genuine, if a little stiff and a bit too keen on the idea that I needed someone to save me.
“Nevertheless.”
“I can take care of myself.”
That made him smile, and both dimples appeared, stealing my breath in a flash. His eyes lightened again and I found myself unable to stop a return grin. “I am quite convinced of that, Ruby Cotton. It doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be taken care of, though. In my humble opinion.”
Somewhere in his easy, laughing response, it sounded as though Cole wanted to be the one to take care of me. But wasn’t he doing that right now? He’d effortlessly taken control of my hellacious morning and turned it into warm blankets and dimpled laughter.
It wouldn’t last. He might think he liked me, but his family would hate me. I’d say or do something that reminded him I’d been born in a shack on the bayou, and he’d remember that girls like me didn’t mix with guys like him. And based on the website, a quick tumble wouldn’t even be worth it.
And that’s all I wanted from guys. A good tumble.
The smile fell from my face. This attraction to Cole was the last thing I needed. I had Liam, a guy who didn’t judge me and couldn’t distract me from the future. Flirty, handsome Cole Stuart could bugger off, or whatever the Scottish version of that term happened to be.
“Thanks for the help, Cole. I really appreciate it, but I can go now.”
“I’ll drive you home.”
“You don’t need to drive me home.”
“I know I don’t need to drive you home, but your lips are blue and you’re still shaking. It will bother me the rest of the day, wondering if you got home safe. I have a complex about seeing things through to the end. Not to mention, we had a meeting scheduled this afternoon anyway. We can take care of it on the drive.” He pulled another giant umbrella from underneath the seat.
“Wait, what meeting?” I was pretty sure scheduling a meeting with Cole wouldn’t have slipped my mind.
“I’m in charge of Lambda Homecoming. We’re paired, right? And you’re the social chair?”
I groaned before I could stop it, but it only seemed to amuse Cole further.
He flashed me his dimples again. “Wait one more minute.”
Being bossed around didn’t rate high on my list of things to look for in a guy, but there was something intriguing about Cole’s take-charge charisma. Everything about him made me forget his treatment of Chaney, along with the blatant disdain written all over my website. This was our third encounter, and much like the first two, it lit my curiosity about his low ratings. He didn’t seem like the type to ignore a girl’s needs.
Ruby, stop. Cole is not a mystery you need to solve.
He reached a hand in for me a few minutes later, tucking me in my blanket against his side and dedicating the majority of the umbrella to keeping me dry during the ten steps between the Town Car and the passenger door of my Acura.
Cole waited until I’d ducked out of the weather before he closed the door, then walked around to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel, tossing the wet umbrella into the back. Heat poured from the car’s vents; Cole must have been making sure it was warm before coming to get me. His attention to little niceties made it even harder to believe he’d be a disappointment on a date.
He put the car in reverse and backed up slowly, then pulled onto the street that led back toward campus. “Comfortable?”
I nodded, warming my hands in front of the heating vents. “Thank you.”
“Wow. I didn’t think I’d get a thank you.”
“I have manners, Cole.” It grated, the supposition that Ruby Cotton and her new money parents were brash, uncouth idiots. I knew I played into that image, because honestly it was easier to go ahead and reinforce their assumptions than to keep trying to fruitlessly fight them, but it disappointed me that he bought into the act.
“You have got to be one of the most defensive women I’ve ever met. Far and away the most beautiful, but defensive as hell.”
The compliment took me by surprise, even though I’d caught more than one appreciative glance from him over the past several weeks and he had asked me out twice. Guys usually weren’t so direct. Liam had taken three months to make a move.
I tried to remember if he’d ever called me beautiful, then stopped. Comparing Cole and Liam was not a path that needed to be traveled. Instead of answering him or acknowledging the compliment—or how it did funny things to my stomach—I changed the subject.
“We were going to talk about a schedule for pomping and prepping the skit, right?”
“Yes. And I have contracts for you to sign about the mixer next weekend.”
“What happened to the old Lambda social chair? Nick something?”
“He bailed and I took it over.”
“Yeah, but you’re a senior. Surely there are other people who could have….” I trailed off, watching the tips of his ears turn a strange shade of reddish purple. “Are your ears cold?
He cleared his throat. “I’m fine. The theme is A Heroes Homecoming, so we’re all supposed to do some kind of skit portraying the glory days of a great Whitman alum. Any ideas?”
“I’d rather not have to redo a lot of work because we chose someone who’s taken. Is there anyone you can think of who wouldn’t be an obvious choice?” My duties as social chair bored me to tears. The faster we sorted this out and the execution passed on to my committee members and the new pledges, the better.
“My brother. We’d have dibs on him, too, since we’re all Lambda legacies.”
“All of you? How many Stuart boys are running around Whitman, anyway?”
“I’m the last male. I have twin brothers, Lawren and Lennox, who are in grad school here and my sister Audra just went through Recruitment. Pledged Kappa.” Unmistakable pride tinged his voice. “The brother in question is Gavin, though. He graduated five years ago and has spent the past four in Afghanistan founding schools for orphaned girls.”
“And how did South Florida wrangle all of you away from Cambridge
or Oxford?” I crossed myself, making sure to toss him a teasing grin so he didn’t think I was a total heathen.
“Smart girl. Gavin went through a bit of a rebellious stage, and insisted. He and my parents were so happy with his experience here that we all visited, and the rest, as you say, is history.” He grinned back. “Plus, my family isn’t too hung up on tradition, despite the Catholicism.”
For not the first time since Cole Stuart had nudged his way into the periphery of my life, he made me feel guilty for judging him. It had become second nature, growing up constantly being judged and returning the favor kind of made me hate myself. Whatever secret bedroom shenanigans Cole was hiding, that he came from a great family didn’t seem arguable.
They were like, master do-gooders.
“Okay.”
“Okay? No argument on our hero?” Cole flashed me a quick smile.
My heart stuttered at the sight of his dimples, and the way the fast glance electrified me from head to toe. “How on earth could I argue with schools for Afghan girls? I think it’s great.” I paused, struggling between wanting to know more about him and maintaining my distance.
If Cole ever found out I was responsible for his now suspect reputation, he probably would regret not leaving me outside to melt like the Wicked Witch.
He pulled my Acura into the DE parking lot and found a spot, sliding it into park and twisting to face me. His presence filled the small space in a way that drew my body forward instinctively, as though we were made of complementary electrical charges.
I pressed back against the passenger door, trying to assert the will of my brain.
“Your sister likes Kappa?” My memory tried to recall an Audra Stuart from Recruitment. Surely, given her family, we would have kept her through to the end, but hundreds of girls marched through the house in the span of a few days and memorizing them all was a challenge even after hours of studying. A flash of dark red hair and dimples that matched Cole’s was all I remembered.
“She does. Loves Whitman, not that she really had much of a choice. We needed her here to keep an eye on her.”
