“When am I getting it back?” He quirked an eyebrow.
If he hadn’t peeked at her from the corner of his vision, he might have missed how she tugged on the sleeves and shared a secret smile with the cobblestones beneath her feet.
“I thought I might keep it,” she said, almost drowned out by the sound of their own footsteps.
“Oh, did you now?”
She adopted an oh-so-casual smirk. “Yeah, you know, girlfriends do this sort of thing.”
He stopped in his tracks. She followed suit.
“You want to be my girlfriend?”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
The requisiteI asked you firstdied in his throat, leaving nothing for it but to kiss her. Again. Crunching autumnal leaves fell around them like snow. Freshers whooped and hollered at them from a nearby bench, but they didn’t mind. He could have held her forever, but his need for a quip outweighed the kiss.
“Have I answered your question?”
“I’ll keep the jacket, then.” She shoved him away with a playful swing of her arms, then rushed to grab a ringing phone out of her pocket. He followed as she ignored the call and shot off a quick text message instead. It wasn’t like him to snoop, but the tightness of her jaw, the sudden loss of lightness in her concerned him.
“What’s up?”
She shoved the phone into the depths of her pocket. The lightness returned when she replaced the clutched cell phone with Daniel’s warm hand, but it was a fake lightness, a false levity.
“Texting my study partner.”
He didn’t pursue it any further. Not because he didn’t want to—he was desperate to know what a study partner could say to turn her mood so quickly—he didn’t want to admit he might have felt a twinge of jealousy at how quickly she picked up the phone when it rang.
They continued their stroll through the streets of Oxford with no particular destination in mind; whenever he asked her where she wanted to go, she held his hand tighter and said, “Let’s keep walking,” so they did. This wandering wasn’t something Daniel would have dreamed up as a date. Grand, romantic gestures and sweeping spectacle were more his style. But even he couldn’t deny how nice a simple walk could be. Conversation flowed easily between him and this woman he was starting to feel deeply for. When they wanted to duck into a shop, they did. When she got thirsty and wanted a bottle of water, they bought one. But every few steps, no matter where they were or what they were doing, he made an effort to stop and kiss her. It was no surprise then, that when he suddenly halted his steps in front of the Unity Chapel, she got the wrong idea.
“We’re not kissing in a church, Daniel.”
“No.” He entered the chapel. The place reeked of incense and low-burning candles, and the stained-glass creations rattled in their frames as an all-too-familiar song invaded his ears. He’d heard it on the street, but it sounded all the more beautiful here inside. Behind the altar, a choir of mismatched volunteers, at least fifty strong, sang under the conduction of a hyper-focused woman with long pink-and-silver hair. If Daniel and Sam were unwelcome here, no one told them so.
“What are we doing in here?” she whispered, sinking down beside him into a pew, close enough to brush his skin.
“It’s my favorite song,” he replied.
They listened wordlessly, the acapella voices pouring over them with the softness of a summer rainstorm. He didn’t dare look at her directly, but he spied Sam’s confusion as she furrowed her brow and attempted to place the tune.
“‘Danny Boy’?”
“It’s the most romantic song ever written,” he said, unable to hold back his awe.
He could have written a book on Frederic Weatherly’s lyrics, the simple sentiments ringing out through the hundred-plus years since they were written and inscribed themselves on his very soul.
“Romantic? Isn’t it about a father singing about his son going to war or something?”
“That’s contested, and besides. ‘Battle Hymn of the Republic’ was originally about a dead guy’s body decaying.” Skepticism wrote itself in every line of Sam’s face. He placed his hands over hers and did as he asked her to. “Close your eyes and listen.”
But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow,
Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow.
It’s I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow,
Oh Danny Boy, Oh Danny Boy, I love you so…
