Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71565 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Then you enrolled at the university that Finn just happened to be teaching at.” He winks at me when he says this and it riles me up. “Thousands of higher education choices in this country, and you choose Penn.”
“It’s an Ivy League university, Sawyer,” I snap. “There are only eight of those.”
“Agreed. Well done.”
He pauses and I feel smug in my defense.
“Where else did you apply?”
Fuck.
“Um, who can remember?” I stall and wind a strand of hair around my fingers. “College applications were so long ago, right?”
He nods, quiet for a moment. “I applied to Brown, Cornell and Harvard. I was accepted to all three. I ended up at Harvard because they had the best rowing program.”
Damn. Of course he’s a rower. I have a bit of a thing for rowers. Sophomore year I dated two of them. Not at the same time or anything. But still, it was a good year.
“And as you pointed out, I’ve got a few years on you.”
“A decade.”
“It’s twelve years, if accuracy is important to you, Everly.”
It’s not. I’m just stalling and he knows it.
“So?” he prods.
I give up. I don’t know how, but this guy has had my number since the moment we met. “Just Penn,” I admit. Penn is the only place I applied. I drop the hair I’ve been twirling. “You wouldn’t believe what I went through to get in though. I worked my ass off.”
“I’m impressed.”
This statement surprises me. I look at his face. He’s sincere. “Why?” The question slips out of my mouth before I realize I’m speaking. Why should I care what he thinks? Yet I’m interested despite myself. And the rowing. Why did he have to mention the rowing? Now I’m checking him out. I can’t make out too much under his blazer. It’s a nice coat. A charcoal wool he’s wearing over a white button-down and dark jeans. But the blazer is well made. Fitted. Likely custom based on the quality and the small amount of information I’ve gathered on this man. But I can see enough to know he’s still in great shape under that jacket. Not that I care.
“I’m impressed at your tenacity. You set a goal and you achieved it.”
“My goal is Finn,” I remind him.
“Everly, we’ve already established that you haven’t been holding out exclusively for Professor Camden,” he says, his lip twitching. “Which tells me that while you envision him as the perfect man, you’ve kept your options open. It tells me that while you might have a vivid fantasy of the perfect happily ever after, you’re open”—he checks my response—“reluctantly, to being swept off your feet by someone other than Finn.”
Well. I don’t know how to respond to that, so what comes out of my mouth is, “Maybe I’m just a nymphomaniac.”
This car ride just went from bad to worse.
“If you were a nymphomaniac you’d have given me a blowjob fifty miles ago.”
“True,” I agree. Damn it! I just said that out loud. I bite my lip and side-eye him. He’s wearing a very satisfied smile.
Ten
Last Month
“Let’s go!” I announce as I barge into Sophie’s dorm room. Sophie is my other best friend. We met two years ago when I started working at Grind Me, a coffee bar just off campus, and we forged an instant friendship.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
She knows exactly where we’re going. You make a girl a waxing appointment and they suddenly get amnesia. “You know where we’re going, Sophie. Your pubes are not going to wax themselves.”
“Please never say the word ‘pubes’ again,” she says, but I ignore her. A good waxer is a godsend. She’ll thank me later.
We exit her dorm and catch a bus at the nearest university bus stop. It’s a beautiful afternoon in Philadelphia. The air has that crisp fresh smell that only comes with fall. We find seats on the bus and I grin at Sophie. “Are you nervous?”
“Yes! I told you I’m really not sure about this.”
“Not about the waxing, nerd. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”
“Oh.” She bites her lip and thinks. “Not really.”
Sophie is finally going to have sex tomorrow, hence our trip to the waxing salon. This girl has picked some real winners, but her current boyfriend Mike is a nice guy. I don’t think I’m wrong about him. He’s a bit of a spoiled rich kid, but he’s cute and he’s really into Sophie.
“What are you doing this weekend?” Sophie asks me as my phone beeps.
“Going home.” I frown at my screen. “My brother is getting married.”
“Oh! That sounds fun. Are you taking the train?”
“I better not be taking the train.” I hit send on a new message.
“Is someone driving down to pick you up?”
“No.” I cross my legs and rest the phone on my thigh. “Professor Camden is driving me home.”
“Really?” The doubt is written all over Sophie’s face. “Professor Camden is driving you to Connecticut?”