“Like”—she nudged a book on top of a nearby pile with her free hand—“Nora Roberts?”
“Did you go through my closet, too? Should I call the campuspolice?”
“We’re not on campus.”
“They like me more than you do.”
“Complete strangers on the street like you more than I do. An anthill you’d smash likes you more than I do. A baby you’d kick likes—”
“Your point has been assiduously made, thank you.”
Her mouth moved before her brain signed off on it. “Why do you always talk like you swallowed a textbook?”
Familiarity shivered through her. The words, the almost-playful way in which they’d come out…it felt old, common,routine, and yet this was the longest conversation they’d had in the four weeks since she’d started at Warren. Wasn’t it?
“Hey,” Ellory murmured. “Do you ever feel like…? Have we had this discussion before?”
“About bell hooks or about my elocution?”
“Okay, Encyclopedia Brown.” That nickname. It felt unnaturally natural, even though she’d never used it before. “Seriously, have we…?”
“I have no idea what you’re asking me, Morgan,” Hudson deadpanned. “You’ll have to use your words.”
Ellory realized for the first time that the space between them had disappeared. Hudson leaned against the desk, gazing at her like he was searching for something. She clutchedReel to Realbetween them, but that was all that was between them. If she breathed too deeply, her knuckles would brush his sweater. Their height difference had evaporated, thanks to her heels. When she didn’t have to tilt her head to meet his eyes, they felt more equal. It startled her, how intense the brown of them was from so close. Strong and earthy, deep and dark. The kind of brown that buriedpeople alive.
The kind they wanted to be buried in.
“Morgan,” he said, and it sounded louder than usual. The distant sounds of the party trickled in slowly, a light drizzle too insubstantial to register. “What exactly are you doing in my room? Even with the door open, you couldn’t possibly have seen that book from the hallway.”
Ellory sighed, setting bell hooks back on the desk. She cleaned imaginary dust from the cover to buy herself some time. There was nowhere to sit but the bed, and she refused to sit on the bed. Bass rattled the carpet beneath their feet. Cheers filtered in from the backyard. The conversation she’d fled echoed in her ears all the same, shriller now thanks to his reminder.
“I got tired of the party,” she said. “It’s a party, but all anyone wants to talk about is homework.”
“Talking about homework isn’t your idea of fun?”
“I actually want to be a lawyer, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have other interests,” she parroted back at him, eyebrows raised.
Hudson made a noise she chose to believe was a chuckle, though it was more breath than sound. “Doyou want to be a lawyer?”
Her pulse skipped. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”
“Not everyone has the passion. And there are plenty of things you can do with a degree in political science besides taking the bar—”
“I want to be a lawyer.” It came out like a bark, too quick and defensive to be believed. Ellory realized her shoulders had inched up toward her ears and forced herself to relax. “You don’t know me, Graves. If you’re trying to intimidate me away from law because you know I’ll be better at it than you, it’s not going to work. And, quite frankly, it’s beneath you.”
Hudson’s expression was carefully blank. Ellory almost wantedto take the words back, but she was tired of doubting herself. She didn’t need to hear her midnight thoughts from his sneering mouth. It didn’t matter what she wanted. She had her family to think about, their sacrifices to get her here. Everything else—this conversation and this party, her hallucinations and this unrelenting sense of déjà vu—was a distraction.
And, unlike Hudson, she could not afford distraction.
“Have you heard of Professor Colt?”
Of all the things Hudson could have said next, Ellory had not expected that. Preston Colt was one of Warren University’s most prestigious instructors; he taught political theory to the upperclassmen, but he had also written several award-winning books and been on almost every talk show. Finding out that he taught here had eased the last of Aunt Carol’s concerns about the impromptu scholarship offer. If Ellory could walk the same halls as Preston Colt, it was worth ignoring a few red flags.
“He hosts a monthly salon at his house,” Hudson continued when she didn’t answer. “It’s a select group, but we’re each allowed a guest. I’ve never taken advantage of that particular clause, but…how would you like to be mine for the one in October?”
“What?” Ellory blinked. “Why me?”
“I—”
