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A twinkle shines in her bright eyes as she nibbles on her bottom lip. She then releases it fast, thinking I won’t be able to read that gesture.
It’s useless. I already know she has something in that busy head of hers.
“What is it?”
She says nothing.
My lips tug in a smirk. “Tell me or I’ll add another round of thorough fucking.”
“You said you keep all your promises,” she starts.
“I do.?
??
“How about promises from ten years ago?”
So it’s about that. I smile on the inside, but I show her nothing. “I don’t know. You still didn’t decide on your university.”
We’ve been talking about this for the past few months. I was more than willing to ditch Oxford and go to Cambridge — even if it’s not the best for business management and it’d piss Jonathan off.
None of that mattered. I already decided Elsa and I will live together at university. I won’t do the whole long-distance bullshit.
“I’m ditching Oxford,” I tell her matter of factly. I don’t care what anyone has to say about it.
“Bummer.” She pouts. “I was thinking of applying there.”
“You were?”
“Yes. Dad and I talked and I decided to go back to my initial dream.”
“Your initial dream?”
“Yeah. I showed you the drawings when I was young.”
“Building houses.”
She nods frantically. “I’ll go to the School of Architecture at Oxford.”
“And we’ll live together.” I know I’m burning steps, but I have to hit the iron while it’s hot.
Truth is, I can never get enough of Elsa. It kills me to send her back home every other night.
I want her with me all the fucking time. I want to sleep surrounded by her warmth every night and wake up to her face every morning.
I expect her to fight and tell me she needs to think about it.
My mind is already filled with a thousand ways to convince her. I can sabotage her dorm application. I can trick her into thinking she’s rented a house with a roommate and then surprise her by showing up. I can —
Elsa reaches under the bed and brings out a bucket of chocolates. She kneels by my side, cradling the thing as her face turns bright red.
A bucket of chocolate? What the fuck?
Wait.
The name of the brand stares back at me.
Maltesers.
