backs out of the door and shoots out of the building before her rock star of a history tutor can say or do anything to change her mind.
Chapter Seventeen
FLEUR
Anne dumps a bowl of ice cream on the table in front of me and hands over a spoon.
“What’s going on?”
I put down my pen. “Nothing. Studying.”
“All day, every day for the last three? This is what you do when you’re upset. So, what happened?”
“I’m busy, that’s all. I want to work ahead on my dissertation.”
So I can finish it sooner and not be tempted by the wiles of Shaun.
She sits. “Is this because of Nate?”
“Nate? Really? Why would that bother me?”
“He embarrassed you. I know you hate being the focus of attention. Plus, you were starting to like Nate and -”
“I was not!”
“Mmm hmm.” Anne picks up the spoon. “You eating this or can I have it?”
I push the bowl across the table. “‘Mm hmm’ what?”
“You talked about him a lot. ‘In group today Nate said this’ ‘guess what Nate did today’ ‘I wonder if Nate –”
“Shut up!”
“Even Jake noticed.”
Get out clause incoming. “Jake? Your ex?”
Anne grabs the bowl and hugs it to her chest. “Yes. So I need this.”
“Like you’re bothered about losing him!”
“I am!” She sucks the spoon. “A bit. The right bits. He gave great head.”
“Ohmigod!” I stare at the laptop, willing myself not to blush.
“You’re funny. I bet Nate could’ve taught you a thing or two.”
“Can we stop talking about Nate?”
“Who is this sulking about then?”
Can I tell Anne? But what is there to tell? She hardly knows who Shaun is since she’s studying economics. “There’s this guy I like...”
“And he doesn’t like you?”
“I don’t know. I mean he said he wanted to kiss me.”
“The bastard!” she laughs. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know if I should.”
Anne puts the bowl down. “Is he with somebody else?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“What’s the problem? Did his IQ test come back too low?”
I throw my pen at her. “No. he is smart. And attractive.”
“And?”
“A postgrad student who’s supervising my dissertation.”
“Aha! Ticks all your boxes.”
“But I can’t, can I? He’s staff and I’m a student.”
“It’s not like he’s some old dude making you sleep with him to give you a decent grade, I doubt that matters. Or is he?”
“He’s not an old dude, and has no influence on my grades.”
“I’ve no idea how the history department operates, but sounds to me like you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I guess he’s not officially staff.” Shaun lectures occasionally and teaches a couple of classes, but most post-grads do.
“Sounds like you’ve been trying to convince yourself. Who is he?”
“Shaun Hennessy.”
“Never heard of him. I think you should kiss him though. And more.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Show Nate that history academics are far superior to rock stars.” With a shake of her head, she scrapes the remaining ice cream from the bowl.
And we’re back to Nate again.
Is Anne right? I’ve avoided Shaun since the other day, but I can’t keep away forever. I have a meeting scheduled with him for Friday, I need to ensure I have plenty to talk about to distract me from the bigger issue at hand. What I’d like him to do with his hands.
****
WILL
I stare at my graded history paper on the table in front of me. Seventy-two percent. Fucking hell. Maybe I have the smarts after all. Pride is mingled with the relief I’m a step further away from failing. Nate’s grade is seventy-three percent; and of course, he behaves as if I’m eating his dust.
I wouldn’t have achieved this without Fleur’s help; that’s a guarantee. Not only has she taught me long-forgotten study habits, but Fleur also manages to teach me to understand things I never have before.
I miss her.
This dumbass, lying idiot misses her.
Raised voices carry
Chapter Seventeen
FLEUR
Anne dumps a bowl of ice cream on the table in front of me and hands over a spoon.
“What’s going on?”
I put down my pen. “Nothing. Studying.”
“All day, every day for the last three? This is what you do when you’re upset. So, what happened?”
“I’m busy, that’s all. I want to work ahead on my dissertation.”
So I can finish it sooner and not be tempted by the wiles of Shaun.
She sits. “Is this because of Nate?”
“Nate? Really? Why would that bother me?”
“He embarrassed you. I know you hate being the focus of attention. Plus, you were starting to like Nate and -”
“I was not!”
“Mmm hmm.” Anne picks up the spoon. “You eating this or can I have it?”
I push the bowl across the table. “‘Mm hmm’ what?”
“You talked about him a lot. ‘In group today Nate said this’ ‘guess what Nate did today’ ‘I wonder if Nate –”
“Shut up!”
“Even Jake noticed.”
Get out clause incoming. “Jake? Your ex?”
Anne grabs the bowl and hugs it to her chest. “Yes. So I need this.”
“Like you’re bothered about losing him!”
“I am!” She sucks the spoon. “A bit. The right bits. He gave great head.”
“Ohmigod!” I stare at the laptop, willing myself not to blush.
“You’re funny. I bet Nate could’ve taught you a thing or two.”
“Can we stop talking about Nate?”
“Who is this sulking about then?”
Can I tell Anne? But what is there to tell? She hardly knows who Shaun is since she’s studying economics. “There’s this guy I like...”
“And he doesn’t like you?”
“I don’t know. I mean he said he wanted to kiss me.”
“The bastard!” she laughs. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know if I should.”
Anne puts the bowl down. “Is he with somebody else?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“What’s the problem? Did his IQ test come back too low?”
I throw my pen at her. “No. he is smart. And attractive.”
“And?”
“A postgrad student who’s supervising my dissertation.”
“Aha! Ticks all your boxes.”
“But I can’t, can I? He’s staff and I’m a student.”
“It’s not like he’s some old dude making you sleep with him to give you a decent grade, I doubt that matters. Or is he?”
“He’s not an old dude, and has no influence on my grades.”
“I’ve no idea how the history department operates, but sounds to me like you’ve nothing to worry about.”
“I guess he’s not officially staff.” Shaun lectures occasionally and teaches a couple of classes, but most post-grads do.
“Sounds like you’ve been trying to convince yourself. Who is he?”
“Shaun Hennessy.”
“Never heard of him. I think you should kiss him though. And more.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Show Nate that history academics are far superior to rock stars.” With a shake of her head, she scrapes the remaining ice cream from the bowl.
And we’re back to Nate again.
Is Anne right? I’ve avoided Shaun since the other day, but I can’t keep away forever. I have a meeting scheduled with him for Friday, I need to ensure I have plenty to talk about to distract me from the bigger issue at hand. What I’d like him to do with his hands.
****
WILL
I stare at my graded history paper on the table in front of me. Seventy-two percent. Fucking hell. Maybe I have the smarts after all. Pride is mingled with the relief I’m a step further away from failing. Nate’s grade is seventy-three percent; and of course, he behaves as if I’m eating his dust.
I wouldn’t have achieved this without Fleur’s help; that’s a guarantee. Not only has she taught me long-forgotten study habits, but Fleur also manages to teach me to understand things I never have before.
I miss her.
This dumbass, lying idiot misses her.
Raised voices carry
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