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He takes it in. Hands the same advice back to me like it’s something I dropped and he found on the floor.

“I will if you stop putting on such a brave face. You’re not brave, Elodie. You may try to convince the world you have it all together, but the truth is, you’re terrified. Let’s talk about this trip to Europe. You’re about to spend your inheritance money flying to the far side of the earth to escape. It’s grief with a passport.” A pause. “I’m gonna write about that girl. She’s the one worth reading about.”

“Grief with a passport,” I repeat and my voice splits. “Got it.”

Beau keeps his hands gripped on the edge of his side of the table, as do I. Four feet of laminate separate two grown people white-knuckling a piece of school furniture.

We manage to work through our drafts for another hour with an undercurrent I don’t quite understand. On a positive note, he makes my draft meaner and truer. His is sadder and more honest. Neither of us says a word about our knees not quite touching under the table.

On the way out, he stops with his hand on the doorframe. I’m close enough to feel warmth radiating off his chest. Smell his fresh-linen scent.

There’s no denying the truth. I want this man with every ounce of my being. God, the things he could teach me.

I gesture around the room. “In case you were wondering, this location won’t stop…” I catch myself.

He looks down at me. For one second his eyes drop to my mouth and stay there too long. Then he pulls them back up to my forehead like it costs him blood. “I know.”

He motions to the door and waits for me to walk out. On my way past I see his hand shaking on the doorframe.

Apparently, when it comes to me, Beau isn’t calm.

Or cool. Or collected.

Could there be a chance with him?

Hmmm.

Maybe all I have to be is patient.

six

Two Weeks Later

Last week, I caught a break.

We were required to meet in the actual classroom so each team could give Halverson an update on our status.

When it was Elodie’s and my turn, someone made a crude old-man-and-the-college-girl joke and the whole room laughed. It rolled right off her. She curtseyed and took a bow, beaming up at me.

Yeah, yeah. Everyone teases us about how we’re a mismatched pair. Not one person in our class comprehends how close to the bone the joke actually cuts for me. Anyone with eyes can visualize a wide span of years between us.

No one would find it remotely funny if they could see how this girl lives in my dreams rent-free.

None of them would understand.

Hell, I don’t understand.

Once every team took their turn, Halverson was pissed. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who tried to cut corners and keep things impersonal. She demanded we conduct the rest of our interviews somewhere meaningful. Demanded we stop cheating the process by convening outside our personal space.

“A kitchen tells you what a coffee shop can’t,” she reprimanded. “Get it done.”

I’m not ready.

I offered to go to Elodie’s place, but she asked if we could meet at my house first. Which is how the woman I’m trying desperately to keep in a platonic zone ends up at my door on a Wednesday morning.

Unfortunately for her, I’m grouchy. Annoyed at myself. Horny as all get-out.

I didn’t sleep much. Same reason as most nights. I keep dreaming about fucking her and the visuals are making me lose my mind.