Authors: Dee C. May
Quinn looked at me with eyebrows raised. “Thirsty?”
“You have no idea.”
They laughed the whole way back, discussing the checkout lady, Wynter’s diet—which seemed to consist of muffins and cold cereal—and Annie’s penchant for some place called the Whole Donut and her ability to drive there late at night. Quinn had finally gotten the bet story, which involved all of them and who could lure a guy up to one of the rooftops of the dorms. Sex wasn’t required to win but at least kissing and one or two bodily rolls. Though Annie had been the first to succeed, they were still disputing the prize of a case of beer versus a six-pack.
We dropped them off at their dorm, and they exited with goodbyes and thank yous, still giggling as they opened the dorm door. They made me smile with their exuberance.
Quinn smirked as we pulled away. “Well, that was fun.” I nodded, not trusting my voice. I kept remembering the way she peered at me through her hair as she wandered down the bakery aisle. I couldn’t stop smiling.
Quinn glanced at me again and shook his head. “This is not good.”
He was right. This could only end badly, but I was past the point of caring.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Wynter—Library
I pushed the turnstile to the library, listening to its creak and click. That sound, along with the smell of new and old books, always comforted me. No matter how bad, scandalous, or boring the weekend had been, Sunday night in the library offered new possibilities. Located in the center of campus, it was as much a hangout as a place to study. On Sundays, it was especially crowded while everyone scrambled to accomplish a weekend’s worth of studying in three hours—and exchange any gossip that had failed to surface during Sunday brunch.
Heading to the back corner of the first floor, where I knew Julia was, I spotted Sophie and Hailey. On their way upstairs, Sophie held up her phone, her way of asking if Beck had called I hadn’t heard from him yet, but I wasn’t freaking. For the first time in ages, I waited for someone other than Jason. That alone deserved a party. I shook my head
no
and kept going.
I unloaded my books in the
carrel Julia had saved for me and checked my phone again. Nothing. She soon returned, having left to fill up her water bottle. “How’s it going?”
. “Nothing yet but good. See anyone interesting?”
Julia shook her head in answer and went back to work. .
I pulled out my civil war book and was rummaging through my back pack looking for the reading assignment when Julia gasped. I jerked my head up to see Beck weaving through the tables toward me. He had traded in his leather jacket for a black suede barn jacket and wore a dark green shirt and blue jeans. His stubble was back. He looked amazing, polished and rough all rolled into one. My heart yammered so loud for a moment, I didn’t hear whatever Julia whispered to me. He nodded at Julia as he passed then slowed and gave me that crooked smile. I wondered how he’d found me tucked in the corner.
“Hi,” he whispered, his accent sending chills up my spine. “First floor. Are you studying or socializing?”
I smiled at his Friday night reference and croaked out an answering hello, my mouth suddenly incredibly dry.
“I decided to take my chances and see if you could use a study break. I brought muffins.” He lifted the plastic bag he was holding in his hand. I stood up, hoping my legs would support me, and started packing up my things. I could hear the murmured undercurrent. Unknown visitors were a cause for gossip, especially good-looking ones. I went to grab my bag, and he had it before I could swing it on my back.
“Are you going to carry my books for me?” I asked incredulously.
Had I died and gone to some alternate reality?
Guys like this just didn’t exist. At least not for me.
“Of course.” He shrugged.
Julia smiled at me as we passed. “Have fun,” she whispered. I smirked and widened my eyes. She just laughed. Brian stood up. He wasn’t going to let me off so easily.
My big brother,
I thought, amused.
“I’m Brian.” He held out his hand.
Beck grabbed it. “Beck.” As if he knew why Brian had stopped him, Beck added, “I’ll have her home by midnight.”
Brian laughed. “No drinking or smoking, kids.” I smiled at him and then nearly sprinted for the main doors. I wanted out of here before anyone else stopped us.
“Where to?” Beck asked as the doors closed behind us. I looked back just in time to see Jason standing at the reference desk staring after us. It filled me with more than a hint of satisfaction.
I turned back to Beck. “I don’t know. Coffee? Soda? Beer?”
“How about a walk around campus?”
“Okay. I just need to stop for a drink at the snack bar.” I needed something hot to keep me warm. “How was your trip?” I asked and started walking again.
He followed. “It was good. We went to a hockey game. Saw some old friends.”
“Who won?”
He liked hockey?
He
was
too good to be true. I keyed in the code for the student center, and he opened the door for me, waiting for me to lead the way.
“The Bruins. How was your night?”
I tried to remember last night. “We party hopped around campus. It was fun.”
He nodded as if he understood.
Mark came up behind us as we were waiting to be served. “L,” he said in his soft voice.
I could feel my cheeks blush. “Mark.” He waited, expecting me to introduce him to Beck, I guessed. I hated introductions. I sucked at it, never sure whos
e name I was supposed to say first.
Beck held out his hand, “I’m Beck.”
Mark grabbed it, giving it a good shake. “Mark.”
He turned to me, eyebrows raised, too many questions on his face. “Whatcha up to, L?”
“Just getting some hot chocolate, Mark.” I ground my teeth.
“You?”
“Frozen yogurt for the woman.”
I nodded.
Beck watched the exchange silently then, raising his eyebrows, asked, “L?”
Mark laughed loudly. “You don’t know?” Beck shook his head as I stared at the ground, waiting for the infamous story. My cheeks burned, but it was pointless to ask Mark to stop. “Yep, I discovered Wynter’s best asset before I ever knew her. I was just an insignificant freshman, and my brother was driving me to college. We were on I-95 coming up from New York, and there was an overturned tractor-trailer which had traffic backed up for miles. My brother had his Nextel phone on, you know when they were all the rage. Anyway, he tried to find out what was going on, but the truckers were all talking about some girl in a convertible who was hanging her legs over the side of the car—and how incredible those legs were. We finally inched forward enough that I could see what they were talking about. And there’s Julia driving and Wyn reclined in the passenger seat, legs propped up on the side, sunning herself, and with absolutely no idea the hell she’s causing.”
I glanced at Beck, who just grinned. Mark shook his head and laughed, recalling the rest. “Of course, I didn’t know her yet, but when we finally got to school and I realized the girl with the legs was living on the floor above me, I just had to tell my buddies. So, that’s what we called her for months before we got to know her. Now, I just call her L.” He smiled conspiratorially at Beck. “Drives my girlfriend a little less nuts.”
“What does she think the L stands for?” I asked.
“Liz.”
“Liz?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Your middle name is Elizabeth,” he answered defensively but then recovered his bravado and shook hands with Beck again. “Take care. See you later, L.”
As Mark left, I pointed Beck toward the door on the opposite side of the room, hoping to avoid anyone else. Beck smiled at me, eyes twinkling. “Do I get to see the infamous legs?”
“Ha. Not in this cold!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Beck—Night Walk
We walked around the south part of the campus. I didn’t know what to say now that we were alone. I couldn’t stop staring.
She finally asked, “What?” I grinned, thinking how adorable she looked, hands cupped around her hot chocolate as if that little cup could keep her warm.
I watched her lips pursed on the edge of the cup. “Wynter Elizabeth?” I asked in an effort to distract myself from what was really on my mind.
“Please. Could that
be
a worse name? What was my mom thinking? Nobody takes you seriously with a name like Wynter, even if it’s spelled with a y. Who even likes winter that much?”
“I like winter.”
“The name or the season?”
“You’re the first Wynter I ever met. But I like the season.”
“Seriously? It’s cold and dark.”
“I like the cold. And after winter comes spring. Winter holds the promise of more.”
“Oh.” Apparently, I wasn’t convincing her.
“Okay, so enough with Wynter. Where did Elizabeth come from?”
“That’s worse. My mom’s favorite book is
Pride and Prejudice
, and Elizabeth Bennett is her favorite heroine.”
“Ahh. And yours?”
“
To Kill a Mockingbird
,” she answered quickly and decisively.
“Why?”
“Well, Scout almost has a worse name than me. And I like the end when she’s standing on Boo Radley’s porch and says ‘you never really know what the view is like until you’re on the other porch.’ I like that. I think it’s true.”
I wondered if she could see the world from my point of view. “And what’s your favorite movie?”
She blew her breath out, taking her time to answer. “
Gone with the Wind
.”
I should have known, given she had quoted it the other night. “Again with that movie. Why?”
“I know it’s sad, but Rhett’s just so, umm, hot, for lack of a better word. And I love the beginning when he sees her at Twelve Oaks and before they start screwing everything up. It’s a great love story.” She paused, then added, “Did you ever notice that?”
“
Notice what?” I asked.
“The best love stories are the ones that don’t work out.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.
“It’s true—
Casablanca
,
Romeo and Juliet
,
Gone with the Wind, Titanic
. The best are the ones that end unhappily.” A cynic and a romantic all at the same time. Maybe there
was
hope for us.
“That’s a depressing thought.”
“I know. What about you?” We had stopped walking and were standing on the path by the performing arts building. Closer to the water and more exposed, the wind whipped her hair around her face. She kept pushing it back, but it didn’t stay.
I wondered if she was asking about love stories or movies. I chose a typical guy movie. “Godfather.”
She nodded this time. We started walking again.
“Sports?” I asked.
“I run.”
“—and play lacrosse,” I filled in. She looked up at me quickly, surprise in her eyes.
“Fight night,” I explained.
“I don’t play anymore.” She sounded sad suddenly but didn’t explain. “What about you?”
I thought for a moment. I had been blessed with coordination and a good build even without my superhuman strength. Quinn and I had once played in an indoor football league, on a bet from Campbell that we couldn’t pull it off. We had won the bet, but it had soon become tedious trying to run at normal speed and not kick the ball too hard.
“Football.”
“Really? Is that how you got your scar?” She pointed, her fingers inches from my chin. I resisted the urge to lean in and feel her touch.
“English football. And that’s from a collision with a coffee table.” I lied, an image of the drop in Afghanistan flashing through my mind.
“Oh. Must have been some table.” It was a two hundred fifty pound Turkish operative brandishing a lethal Gerber knife that ended up in his throat. I was good at my job.
“It was.”
We lapsed into silence, and she played with the top of her hot chocolate. I caught her eye.
“What now?”
“What are you thinking? You got all quiet.”
“I was thinking how different this is. Nobody usually asks me this stuff.”
“I’m sorry. Am I being too nosy?” I hadn’t done this dating thing in what felt like a very long time.
“No, it’s nice,” she said, but I could tell she was somewhere else, thinking of something else.
I decided to keep going. “Then can I ask you something else?”
She half laughed. “Sure.”
“What’s up with you and that guy?”
She stopped walking, and I wondered if I had gone too far. “You mean Jason?” I nodded. She turned to face me, hesitating. “I don’t know. You have to realize we were friends for a long time before. I knew how he treated girls, but I didn’t think he would do that to me. He had a rough childhood, you know, parents divorced, sister sick with some weird disease. I think it really screwed him up. Still, I just thought I would be different. He really can be nice and charming when he wants to.” She paused. “We used to be great together.” She stared into her hot chocolate. Now she really did look sad.