The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) Read online

  “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, h
e 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)

  JULIE ARRIVED AT THE COFFEE SHOP a few minutes later in all her bun-headed glory.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. I’m all kinds of fail this morning.” She grimaced apologetically as she squeezed between the tables to reach me.

  “No worries. You can buy me a second coffee to redeem yourself.” I grabbed my coat and backpack and waved my empty mug. “Do you want to grab one to go and we can head upstairs to sit in the library or something? It’ll be more comfy.”

  Truthfully, staying in the coffee shop would have been fine under normal circumstances, but knowing Daniel was four tables away made me self-conscious. I wanted to get caught up with Julie without being distracted by soulful blue eyes and dimpled smiles. Julie agreed, leading the way back to the coffee bar.

  As we approached the doors that led to the main floor hallway of Hart House, I allowed myself one final glance across the café. Daniel was typing away, completely engrossed in his work and oblivious to everything around him. I secretly wished he’d notice me leaving—my yoga pants did fabulous things for my ass and legs—but I sure as hell wasn’t going to continue staring over my shoulder to see if my wish was granted.

  Julie and I made our way to the second floor library—more appropriately termed a reading room—one of my favorite spots on campus. Red leather couches and wing-back chairs allowed plenty of people to sit in comfort around the room, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered every wall.

  Students frequented the library between classes to study, do homework, chat with friends, and sometimes nap on the couch in front of the fireplace. Since the first time I’d stepped inside the reading room, it had fed into my romantic sensibilities, transporting me to another era and conjuring thoughts of Jane Austen novels. Today, however, the rows of bookshelves elicited much naughtier images than Jane Austen would have dared put to paper.

  I banished thoughts of Dream Daniel whispering provocatively in my ear and flopped down on a couch by one of the large bay windows.

  “I was so happy when I heard your voice in class yesterday,” Julie said, squeezing my hand warmly. “I’ve missed hanging out with you.”

  “I know! It’s been a busy year, and I’ve been hard core with the school work, but that’s no excuse. I’m glad we reconnected,” I said. “Why didn’t I know you were taking this course? I remember comparing classes with you in September.”

  “I switched out of a classics half-course at the last minute. My course load is brutal. I needed something a little more familiar. Although, when I heard Cara’s annoying valley-twang yesterday, I seriously considered running to the English Department office to switch back to classics. I can’t stand that girl or her giant boobs.”

  “That wouldn’t be sour grapes, would it? No pun intended,” I added, gesturing to Julie’s rather flat chest. She was a dancer and one of those extremely athletic girls who exercises so much she loses her curves. All the more reason to be a couch potato, in my opinion. I wouldn’t characterize myself as overweight by any stretch of the imagination, but fitness wasn’t exactly my forte.

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, I guess I wouldn’t mind a little extra in the boobage department.” She pouted playfully before changing the subject. “So what’s your take on the class? You know Professor Brown, right? Is he decent? Fair?”

  “Oh yeah, a bit old-fashioned. Not a fan of posting notes online, still stuck in the chalk-and-talk era, that sort of thing, but he’s a good teacher and he’s very kind. He genuinely wants people to do well.”

  “No online notes. That means no skipping lectures. Thanks for the heads up,” she said, sipping her coffee. “Not that I think attending class will be a chore with Daniel sitting at the front of the room. Did you get a load of him? Fuck me sideways, he is one good-looking man!”

  “Yeah, he’s a long, hot drink of Saturday night sexin’. This morning he looked like he rolled a bum on Yonge Street and stole his clothes, though,” I said, making light of my attraction to Daniel. “Weird thing is, I know his father.”

  “Really? Do they live in Oakville?”

  “No, I don’t know him from home. David Grant is the Dean of Students at Victoria College. I work for him.”

  “Right. I’d forgotten about your job. It stinks that you have to work. Fourth year is stressful enough as it is.”

  “I know, but what else can I do? Taking a year off to work full-time after high school helped, but that money couldn’t last forever. My parents do what they can, but it’s not nearly enough.”

  “I guess. So what’s he like? Daniel’s father? Is it a decent job?”

  “It’s perfect. I only work three mornings a week. Dean Grant is a great boss. He’s a damn fine specimen of a man, too. The Grant DNA is definitely solid,” I said.

  “Is it too late to transfer from Trinity College to Vic? For some reason I feel inspired to make the dean’s list.” Julie laughed and then leaned forward, switching subjects again without missing a beat. “So, tell me about your family! What’s going on with your mom? She and Rick are good?”

  My mother had met her new husband Rick while the two of us were in Las Vegas the February before. They fell madly in lust, he paid for her to go down for the May long weekend, then again for two weeks in June, and the next thing I knew she was packing up the apartment and moving to Nevada.

  “They’re doing great, I guess. Mom loves Vegas, and they’re having a blast together.”

  “That’s kinda nuts,” Julie said. “Do you like him?”

  I shrugged. “Rick’s fine. My mom’s happy. She’s kind of getting a second chance. It’s nice for her.”

  “Nice for her, but shitty for you. With your dad in Calgary and now your mom gone too? I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t escape to Windsor once in a while to have my mom feed me and do all my laundry.”

  It was odd hearing Julie’s take on my life. She was right—my situation was weird. I’d recently started stewing over the fact that soon Reading Week would be upon us, and everyone would go home or leave for a southern getaway. I didn’t have a home anymore in the sense that everyone else did. Between flying to Vegas for Christmas and being a broke university student, I’d be staying in residence alone for Reading Week. Then, of course, there was the fact that after my summer residence lease was up, I’d have to move out and find something comparably priced in the real world. My lack of safety net was a constant worry.

  The conversation turned to Julie, and she updated me on her family and the new dance company she’d hooked up with in Toronto. I listened as she moaned about her sketchy social life and nodded sympathetically at her even sk
etchier love life.

  “I can relate,” I said. “I’ve been holed up like a groundhog all winter. It sucks.”

  “Well, that’s decided, then,” she said. “I grabbed two tickets to an indie music revue next Thursday and was going to invite my roommate, but I think you should come with me instead.”

  “Seriously? It’s been ages since I’ve been to a show. Remember all those concerts we used to go to in first year?”

  “Those were so fun. It’s been way too long. So what do you think?”

  “Hell, yes! I’d love to.”

  “Perfect. It’s a date.”

  I peeked at my watch. My first lecture of the day was looming. I drained the dregs of my coffee and stretched languidly. “Sorry, Jul, but I should get going. I have to head back across Queen’s Park for my children’s lit class.”

  “Yeah, I should get back too. I have so much homework. This has been nice, though. I love how we can always pick up where we left off,” she said.

  I smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay? Grab me a seat if you get there before me.”

  “Same goes for you. And not too far back. I’d like to have a clear view of the, um, proceedings, shall we say?”

  “Done.”

  As if I needed any extra motivation.

  My lecture dragged, my fuzzy understanding of Haroun and the Sea of Stories making most of the content of the lesson incomprehensible. I’d tried to read the book the night before, but I’d had trouble focusing.

  Daniel was already single-handedly threatening my academic success, and I’d only known him for a day and a half! I tried to banish him from my thoughts, but I caught myself checking the time at noon and doing a little jig in my seat to celebrate the fact that I’d be seeing him again in exactly twenty-four hours.

  The lecture wrapped at ten to one, leaving me barely enough time to trek back to Victoria College for my two-hour French lecture. Snacks in hand, I dashed across St. Mike’s quad, following the pathways joining the two colleges.