“You don’t have to thank me,” I said, focusing hard on my laptop screen instead of the way he was looking at me.
“Yes, I do.” When I glanced up, his eyes caught mine and held them. “I know we’re not exactly friends yet, but…what you did meant a lot.”
Yet.
My brain focused on that single word and all the possibilities it held. We’d called a truce, but was I really ready to befriendswith him?
With the same boy who’d teased me relentlessly about my freckles, my crazy red curls, and my gangly limbs before I’d discovered yoga and turned gangly into lithe.
Except he wasn’t really that same guy anymore. Minus the use of “Freckles” which somehow didn’t sound as harsh as it had before. There’d been a playful undertone underneath instead of the mocking tone I’d gotten so used to.
So maybe being friends wasn’t such a crazy possibility after all.
He pulled out his laptop and started setting up with surprising efficiency. “So, attachment styles. I was thinking about how our presentation could connect theory to real-world examples without getting too personal.”
“Good idea.”
Focusing on our project was all we should be doing right now anyway.
“Want to move to one of the study rooms?” he asked.
“Uh, sure.” It was a logical choice. Our presentation was due in two days, and neither of us wanted to risk getting shushed for talking, which was likely to happen if we stayed in this spot.
But I was nervous about being in a room alone with him, which was dumb because we’d been alone in his house the other night.
We grabbed our stuff and I followed Drew to the only available study room. Instantly, my stomach tightened with nerves. The room was barely big enough for the small table and two chairs.
“We could wait for one of the bigger rooms to open up,” he said, staring at the small space with the same apprehensive expression I suspected was on my face.
“This is fine. We need to get working, and who knows how long we’ll have to wait for another room.”
It was not, in fact, fine. With both our laptops open, our knees kept brushing underneath the small table and his cologne was suffocating me.
Okay, maybe suffocating was a bit dramatic. It wasn’t a terrible smell—not in the slightest. It was kind of woodsy and fresh and it made parts of me tingle that I absolutely did not want to acknowledge.
“So,” Drew said after we’d settled, “I was thinking we could start with the basics of attachment theory and then move into how early bonds shape relationship patterns.”
“Makes sense.” I pulled up the outline we’d been working on. “I’ve got some research on how secure versusinsecure attachment affects adult relationships that could fit well.”
Drew nodded, and for a while, we worked in relative silence, the only sounds the soft tapping of our keyboards and the occasional rustle of papers. It was weirdly comfortable.
“We should probably rehearse the whole thing at least once before class,” I said, not looking up from my screen. “We could meet at your place tomorrow if that’s easier with Rory.”
“That’d be great, actually.” He glanced at me. “Are you okay with that? Being around her again?”
The question caught me off guard. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. Not everyone’s comfortable around babies.” He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in that way that always made him look younger, less guarded. “And she seems to really like you.”
Warmth bloomed in my chest. “She’s a sweet baby.”
“She is,” he agreed, his voice soft with a pride I was still getting used to hearing from him. “Though that sound you make at the start of your fellowship audition piece is actually quite similar to her hungry cry.”
I froze. “How do you know about my fellowship audition?”
Drew’s eyes widened slightly, like he’d been caught. “I can hear you practicing next door, and some of your roommates talk loudly. I overheard you talking to Rachel about it when you were walking toward your front door one day.”
He had the decency to look a little embarrassed as he continued. “I, uh, looked up what it was and it seems like it’s kind of a big deal.”
