‘You beat me here,’ I tell Lauren as we slide into a small booth, just enough room for the two of us to sit, knee to knee. ‘I was trying to be early.’
‘Such a gentleman. Don’t feel too bad, I’ve been here since my seminar finished. I like to read in here, reminds me of home.’
‘You grew up in a bar?’
She laughs, adjusting the neckline of her bodysuit and running a hand along her neck and down her arm. This girl is good.
‘Sort of. My parents run a pub.’
‘Really? That’s so interesting. Where are you from?’ I ask, gazing into her blue eyes. They’re lighter than Mia’s, more of a greenish shade than a true sapphire. Pretty though.
‘Northamptonshire,’ she replies, licking her lips. ‘Nowhere interesting. How about you?’
‘South Carolina, Beaufort born and raised.’
‘No idea where that is,’ she replies and I don’t tell her I have even less of a clue about Northamptonshire. ‘Which halls are you in?’
‘Carpenter, same as Mia over there.’
‘Mia?’
‘Right, you probably haven’t met. Girl behind the bar, she’s from South Carolina too. We were at the same school before this.’
She looks over at the bar with mild curiosity, but Mia is way too invested in reading the back of a bottle of black liquor to even look our way.
‘Must be nice to have a friend from home.’
‘We’re not friends,’ I reply and even though I’m only repeating what Mia said to me, it doesn’t feel good to say it out loud. A look passes over Lauren’s face but it’s gone before I can read it.
‘It feels like being a freshman all over again,’ I tell her, changing the subject and angling my body so I can’t see the bar. ‘What classes are you taking, where are you from, which dorm are you in. Standard first-year questions.’
‘Especially since everyone at Hemden knows everybody else. Must be strange trying to fit in.’
‘Why would I want to fit in?’
My best rakish smile makes her laugh and I tap the neck of my beer against the glass of sticky-looking orange liquid in front of her, then raise it to my lips, barely taking a sip.
‘So, Ethan the footballing psychology student from South Carolina, what else do I need to know about you?’
‘Oh, I don’t know if there’s anything you need to know,’ I reply. ‘But there’s plenty you might like to find out.’
She laughs again, a little less enthusiastic, and I make a mental adjustment to dial down the charm. It’s still early, she’s on her first drink. I don’t need to turn it all the way up.
‘What about you?’ I ask, stretching an arm along the back of the booth. ‘Lauren from Northamptonshire who grew up in a pub?’
‘Not in the pub so much as above the pub. Not a grotty little boozer or anything, it’s really lovely, a lovely countryside cottage, lots of open space, nice views. Looks a bit like this inside. Mum inherited it from her parents, she and Dad have been running it since before I was born.’
‘And you didn’t want to carry on the family business?’
‘A psychology degree would be more helpful when it comes to running a pub than you might think. I’ve definitely put in some hours counselling the locals when I was only supposed to be collecting glasses.’ She cocks her head back towards the bar. ‘Your not-friend will be able to tell you all about that.’
‘Maybe,’ I agree, taking a deeper drink. ‘If she could bring herself to talk to me. I don’t know what’s up her ass but I must have done something to offend her in another life.’
‘You’ve no idea what?’
‘She won’t tell me.’
Her perfectly symmetrical lips press together into a thin line as she deliberates.
