The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) (4 page)

Chapter 4

Some Must Watch

For some must watch, while some must sleep:
Thus runs the world away.
(
Hamlet
, Act III, Scene 2)

Y
OU
K
NOW
W
HEN
Y
OU
H
AVE
a hot dream about a guy, and then you see him, and the dream rushes back to you and it feels so real—more like a memory than a dream? That’s what happened when I walked toward the tutorial room at eight forty-five the next morning. Daniel was standing in the open doorway, and the most amazing series of risqué images flashed before my eyes. I quickly ducked into an alcove to collect my thoughts or, more accurately, to eagerly sift through the details of the dream.

Daniel had been watching me scan a bookshelf full of Shakespeare’s works. One minute he’d been suggesting books that I might like to borrow, and the next thing I knew, he was coming up behind me and pushing me up against the bookcase, his hand in my hair, his lips brushing my neck. I wasn’t sure if I’d said anything, but his voice had been hot and insistent at my ear as he slowly undressed me.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Your skin is so soft.”

“Please tell me you want me as much as I want you…”

The memories sparked a hot flush. How could I walk down the hall and greet him without betraying my thoughts? On the other hand, how could I leave without seeing him? I was damned if I was going to pass up the opportunity to talk to him one on one.

I fanned my warm cheeks, took a quick cleansing breath, and then put my game face on, resuming my journey down the hall toward the seminar room. Daniel looked hotter than hell, still sporting yesterday’s five o’clock shadow, but somehow he was even more gorgeous than the day before. He was leaning casually against the doorway, one hand propped against the frame, the other stuffed in the front pocket of an ancient-looking leather jacket.

Holy hell, man. Could you be any more stunning?

Three other students from the class were standing in front of the bulletin board, pens in hand, hemming and hawing, weighing their tutorial time options. Daniel watched them impassively. Was he always so miserable? Would it kill him to smile?

I bet Penny makes him smile,
I thought dismally.

I stood behind my three indecisive classmates, waiting for them to finish and move the hell out of the way. As I peered impatiently over their shoulders, I noticed Daniel had taken the time to make new sign-up sheets. All three pages were crisp and clean, pinned to the cork board in a neat row.

The three stooges in front of me finally got their shit together, signed up for the Wednesday time slot, and moved away down the hall. I stepped forward, finding all fourteen spots on Friday available. A few keen people had already signed up for the Monday and Wednesday tutorials. I was beginning to wonder where Julie was and whether I should call or text her when Daniel moved from his post at the door, taking a few slow steps toward me.

“You’re Miss Price, right?” His voice was smooth and silky.

“That’s right. You have a good memory.” I flashed what I hoped was a fabulous smile. “Aubrey Price,” I said, and as I spoke—I had to do it—I reached out, offering a handshake.

He glanced at my outstretched hand, and I thought for a second he might refuse my gesture, but then his palm pressed warmly against mine. It sent a surge of heat through me—not a jolt like an electric shock or anything ridiculous like that—but more like a wave, a slow moving but eventually all-encompassing surge of warmth, which turned my brain, among other things, to jelly. An image of his fingers curling around mine as he pushed me against that bookshelf made my knees weak.

“Well, Miss Price, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, reclaiming his hand and entirely ignoring my first name.

“You can call me Aubrey,” I said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. It’s quite unique.”

“I was named after my grandmother. It’s a bit old-fashioned, I guess, but better than the alternative, which would have been way worse.”

He cocked his head as if he expected me to explain myself. The chiseled perfection of his jaw up close obliterated my ability to think straight, but I stupidly barreled on anyway.

“Honeysuckle,” I explained. “It’s my mother’s favorite plant. My dad swears she wanted to call me that. Honeysuckle Price. Sounds a bit like a stripper’s name, right?”

I have no idea what possessed me to share this story or to ask him such a stupid question, but he nodded, seeming to give serious thought to the issue.

“I imagine it would have been an interesting name to endure.”

I swallowed and shifted my weight, wondering if I should assure him that I wasn’t a stripper and had no aspirations of ever becoming one. Luckily for me, he spoke first.

“So based on your exchange with Professor Brown yesterday, I gather you two are acquainted?” he said.

“Yes, this is my third time in his class. Not the same class of course—I passed the other two—which were two different courses and this one’s different as well.”

I realized with horror that I’d become as inarticulate as Cara Switzer. But in my defense, he was gazing at me with those fathomless blue eyes and speaking to me with those delicious full lips…

“You’ll have to excuse me,” I said. “I can’t seem to think straight this morning. I didn’t get much sleep, not because, you know…”
Oh my God!
“Well, I had a—well, rough night—and oh man, I need a coffee.”

I clamped my mouth shut, figuring I’d better quit while I was ahead. But then the heavens opened and a choir of angels sang because he smiled at me, and he had these cute wrinkles around his eyes and the most gorgeous dimple puckered his right cheek. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Don’t worry,” he assured me, leaning forward. “I feel your pain. I was in a rush to get here and missed my chance to grab coffee. I must look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.”

I smiled at his choice of expressions, exactly the sort of thing Granddad Price used to say. I remembered Dean Grant once mentioning his wife’s English background. Perhaps Daniel had an English grandfather who used silly expressions too.

“Hmm, well, it can be tricky getting into a routine at the beginning of a new semester,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve got lots of intro stuff to deal with, right?”

“Yes, if it’s not one thing it’s another.” He breathed out like he was preparing to end the conversation. I wasn’t ready for the exchange to end, though, so I tried to think of something else to say. This was tricky. Because of my nosiness yesterday, I knew things about him I wasn’t supposed to know. I couldn’t exactly say, “And how is the Beemer? Did you wash it this morning? What about Penny, is she having any luck finding something to wear for Valentine’s Day?”

Thankfully my synapses reconnected. “I work for your dad over at Vic College, by the way,” I said as casually as possible.

His eyebrows shot up, and he pulled his head back sharply. Guess he didn’t see that coming. That made two of us. “Really?” he asked, his voice rising at least an octave higher than normal. “In what capacity?”

“I guess you’d say I’m a liaison between your father and various student groups on campus—” I started to explain but was interrupted by my phone ringing. It was Julie.

“Excuse me for a sec. I need to grab this,” I said, holding up my cell phone. He nodded, sauntering back over to the tutorial room doorway.

“Hey, girlfriend, I’m a loser,” Julie groaned. “I just woke up. You’re there, right? You’re such a trooper. Is it crazy busy?”

“Yes, I’m here, and no, it’s not too bad at all. I guess it’s a class of slackers. Present company included, you lazy ass. But it’s not quite nine yet. I figure the rush is on the way, so you’d better haul your skinny carcass out of bed.”

“It’s so cold out. I don’t wanna get up,” she whined. “Can you sign me up for the same day as you? I betcha Mr. Shmexy TA won’t know I haven’t signed up myself if you use a different pen and maybe change the writing a bit, right? I doubt he’d be that much of a tight ass to care, anyway.”

I laughed at her apathy and her new moniker for Daniel. Mr. Shmexy summed him up quite nicely. “Well, since he’s standing right here, that could be tricky, sweetness,” I told her.

Daniel looked over, realizing he was the subject of our discussion.

“Hang on a minute, Jul.” I turned to Daniel. “My friend wants to know if you’d care if I sign up on her behalf.”

He smirked as he swung around to close and lock the seminar room door. “I sense you’re the kind of person who’d do anything for a friend, Miss Price. Be careful, though,” he said. “‘
For some must watch, while some must sleep: thus runs the world away
.’”

He made a show of drinking an imaginary cup of something to indicate he was off in search of coffee. I have to say, Julie was right on the money with the term
tight ass
, although I was probably interpreting her expression in a slightly different way.

I took a few seconds to pull myself together. After all, it’s not every day the guy you’ve had a hot sex dream about smirks at you while quoting Shakespeare’s
Hamlet
. I finally remembered the phone in my hand and cut short my starry-eyed musings.

“Hey, Jul, I’m signing us up for Friday, okay?” I said, quickly filling our names in on the third sheet.

“Thanks so much. Listen, I can be at Hart House in fifteen minutes if you still want to grab a cup of coffee. I’ll throw on some clothes, okay?”

“Sounds good.” I was already making my way to the exit. “I’ll go over now and see you when you get there.”

“Thanks, Aubrey, you’re the best. I won’t be long,” she promised.

I dashed from University College to the Hart House coffee shop and ordered a small mug of coffee and a blueberry muffin. I claimed a table for two away from the draft of the doors and settled in to enjoy my breakfast while waiting for Julie.

As I nibbled on the muffin, I wondered how Matt was feeling. The apartment had been dead quiet when I’d left, both he and Joanna still sleeping. I’d hated seeing him so distraught the day before. He’d get over it, but breaking up was never easy.

Almost as bad as dealing with feelings that aren’t reciprocated in the first place,
I mused, and before the thought had properly gelled in my mind, there he was, Mr. Unrequited himself, standing in line for his own hit of java. I turned away, hoping to escape his notice. I’d already made enough of a fool of myself for one day.

I sent Matt a good morning text, and as I twisted around to put my phone back in my pocket, Daniel walked past me. Sitting down at a nearby table with his back to me, he pulled a pile of papers and his laptop from his bag. He shrugged off his jacket, and when he turned to put it on the back of his chair our eyes met. He tilted his head to the side and smiled. Gosh, I loved that dimple. Picking up his coffee, he stood and sauntered over to my table.

“Are you following me?” I teased.

Yeah, that’s rich, Aubrey
.

“That would be challenging, Miss Price, since I left
first
,” he replied, his cheek puckering tartly.

“Hmm. I suppose you have a point there,” I said, trying not to pay too much attention to him licking his lips and rubbing his thumb along his jaw.

“So, mission accomplished?” he asked, tilting his head back toward University College.

“Yep. Friday it is,” I said.

“Very good.” He leaned over with his coffee mug, clinking it against mine. “Well, cheers. I’ll see you tomorrow at the lecture.”

He started to turn away, but before he could get too far, I said, “
‘For some must watch, while some must sleep: thus runs the world away
.’
Hamlet,
act three, scene two. Hamlet’s speaking to Horatio after confirming Claudius’s guilt with the Mousetrap Play.”

He looked at me quizzically. “I see you’ve regained the ability to articulate clearly, Miss Price. This must be damn good coffee.” He offered me another wonderful smile and headed off to reclaim his seat, busying himself with his papers and leaving me utterly breathless.

Chapter 5

Friend or Foe?

These are certain signs to know
Faithful friend from flattering foe.
(
Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music
)

J
ULIE
A
RRIVED
A
T
T
HE
C
OFFEE
S
HOP
a few minutes later in all her bun-headed glory.