He wasn’t wrong, but my training had involved a lot more than the average Brit, always stressing the importance of manners above anything else.
“You transferred here from Oxford University.” His face showed curiosity as he studied me for a moment. “It’s usually the other way around. What made you choose Cascade Bay?”
I’d prepared an answer for this question, knowing it would come up at some point. “As much as I appreciate the hallowed traditions and academic rigor at Oxford, I felt it was important to broaden my horizons. My only experience is with the British educational system, and even there, only with the privileged options of Eton and Oxford. It seemed wise to me to experience something else entirely, a more liberal setting, if you wish.”
He slowly nodded. “Good answer. A prepared one.”
Once again, I cursed my pale complexion as I felt my cheeks heat. “I was expecting this to come up, Professor.”
“Fair enough. Let’s talk about your classes for this year.”
4
BASH
Two weeks later, we’d fallen into a routine that felt dangerously normal, like a well-oiled machine, anticipating each other’s moves.
I slept on the couch, which was surprisingly comfortable. Then again, I’d grown used to sleeping on the ground in the Marines, so the soft cushions were a luxury, especially wrapped in my mummy sleeping bag. At six on the dot, I woke up for my workout, which consisted of a five-mile run around campus followed by bodyweight exercises in the fitness center while Eddie slept in.
He emerged from his bedroom around eight, hair sticking up in every direction and adorably rumpled and mussed, mumbling, “Good morning,” as he stumbled toward the bathroom. Clearly not a morning person. I had coffee ready by the time he finished his morning routine, and we headed to breakfast together.
We attended classes, had lunch, did assignments and study groups together, spent time in the library studying, then shared dinner and retreated to our mini-apartment for quiet nights in.
Rinse and repeat. Together all day, every day.
It should’ve felt intense—24/7 protection detail for a member of the British royal family. Instead, it was starting to feel like the most natural thing in the world.
“You know,” Eddie said, looking up from the textbook he’d been highlighting with scientific precision, “I never expected American university libraries to be so democratic.”
We were settled in our usual spot on the third floor of the main library, a corner table that gave me good sight lines to all entrances while providing Eddie with the quiet study environment he seemed to prefer. It had taken me one day to figure out his study habits. He needed absolute silence for reading but liked having background conversation for writing, preferred natural light, and had a tendency to mutter British curse words under his breath when frustrated.
“Democratic how?” I asked, looking up from my own reading. Yes, I didn’t have to pass any exams as an auditing student, but only my professors knew that. As far as the other students were aware, I was just like them, so I would have to keep up appearances. International Relations coursework wasn’t exactly light material, and my own degree was in criminology, so there wasn’t a lot of overlap. At least it kept me busy and able to focus on academics rather than on the way Eddie absently twirled a pen between his fingers when he was thinking, or how his accent got more pronounced when he was tired.
“Well, at Oxford, the libraries are rather more… hierarchical, I suppose. Certain areas are restricted to certain years or certain colleges. Here, it seems anyone can sit anywhere.” He gestured around the space, where graduate students, underclassmen, and professors all shared the same study areas. “It’s quite refreshing, actually.”
“You sound surprised.”
Eddie’s cheeks colored slightly. “That made me sound like a terrible snob. I don’t mean to be. My entire educational experience has been rather exclusive. This is the first time I’ve been somewhere that operates on merit rather than legacy or connections.”
There it was again, that unexpected self-awareness that kept catching me off guard. The Eddie York I’d gotten to know so far bore no resemblance to the entitled playboy prince I’d been expecting. He was thoughtful, curious about everything from American slang to campus politics, and surprisingly humble for someone who’d been born into unimaginable privilege.
He was also becoming dangerously easy to like.
“Merit’s a good system. Means everyone’s here because they earned it.” Then I chuckled. “Well, everyone except me. Here we are, talking about a merit system when I cheated my way into this university based on falsified records.”
He studied me for a few beats, as if deciding how to respond. “I’m confident you would’ve gotten in based on merits, if you had wanted to,” he finally said.
That was not the answer I’d been expecting at all. The compliment shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did. But hearing genuine respect in his voice, knowing that he saw me as more than hired security did something to me that I wasn’t entirely comfortable examining. “Thank you. I’m glad I won’t actually have to pass the exams, that much I’ve already discovered.”
“I’d be happy to help you study or tutor you.”
How had this guy been labeled Prince Playboy? Literally nothing about him suggested he was even remotely into partying and hooking up. Hell, I hadn’t even seen him look twice at girls so far. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Eddie went back to his studies, and after a thorough inspection of our environment, I tried to focus as well. College hadn’t been easy for me. I’d always been more of a hands-on guy when it came to learning, but I’d known I needed a degree to become a federal agent. It had been hard work, but it had paid off. I’d made it into the Secret Service, and now this assignment was supposed to set me up for life. If I did well here, it would honor Glenn’s memory and make my family proud.
But sitting here in this library, watching Eddie discover American university life with the excitement of a kid in a candy store, I was starting to wonder what I actually wanted my future to look like.
Dangerous territory, Puller. Stay focused on the job.
