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I get to see Sadie next week, and more importantly, I caught a glimpse of Dr. Hawthorne tonight.
Hopefully, that’s all the fuel I need to have a dream about him.
“Stingy Stein hates me.” Gwynn flashes her phone screen toward me, but before I can fathom what I’m seeing, it’s facing her again. “I swear she hates me, Faith.”
I glance down at my phone to see the grade I received on our latest assignment. It’s stellar and a testament to the time I put into it.
“She doesn’t hate you,” I insist. “Molecular biology is hard.”
For most people, I should add, but I don’t.
I love the class, so acing the assignment was easy for me.
“Says the girl who never fails at anything.” Gwynn stomps her foot like a petulant child. “I could use a drink. Interested in joining me?”
I shake my head. “I’m still mad at you, so the answer to that is no.”
She sticks her tongue out. “Maybe I was wrong to send my cousin to your apartment without a warning, but you need to have some fun, Faith. I was only looking out for your best interests.”
I had every intention of calling her out today for what happened with Rich last night, but I held my temper. I calmly told her that it made me uncomfortable when I walked into my building to find Rich waiting for me and that she didn’t have my permission to give my address or phone number to anyone in the future.
I could tell my words stung, but we hugged it out, and she treated me to another cheat meal after our last class of the day.
This time it was spaghetti at Calvetti’s, our favorite Italian restaurant.
“I know.” I pat her forearm. “I’m going home. I need to stop and buy some groceries, and then it’s study time.”
Her gaze drops to her phone screen again. “It’s barely eight, Faith. One drink won’t take long.”
“Another time, okay?”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She glances to the left and the right at the approaching traffic. “We can share a taxi if you want. There’s a bar a few blocks from your place that serves incredible martinis, and hopefully, a single man looking for a new friend will serve himself up to me.”
Laughing, I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “Should I wish you luck?”
“Wish me a good fuck,” she quips. “I’m in desperate need of one.”
Chapter Six
Matthew
Tilly: So what did you think?!
With my gaze pinned to my phone’s screen, I step onto the elevator in my building. I thought Fleur was pretty but pretentious when I met her tonight. I could tell within thirty seconds of shaking her hand that nothing was going to happen between us beyond some stilted conversation as I downed a couple of glasses of sparkling water since I’m on call tonight.
I type out a response.
Matt: It was good to see you and Sebastian. I enjoyed meeting your friend, but we won’t be seeing each other again.
I read over what I typed. It’s direct and to the point. I don’t want to give Tilly any false hope that she’ll pass on to Fleur. I press send and shift my feet forward, anxious to get to my apartment, so I can grab a shower before I fall into bed.
I glance down at the elevator floor when I feel something bump against the toe of my shoe. Brown oxfords. They’re not only stylish, but they’re comfortable. They were also a gift from my twin brother.
He bought a pair and loved them so much that he dropped off a pair for me a day later.
I thanked him with a case of beer.
It wasn’t an even trade because the shoes are what you’d expect to find on the feet of a wealthy lawyer, not on a veterinarian who just finished paying off his student debt.
Since I’m the only person on the elevator, I bend down to retrieve a book.
I pick it up and turn it over.
It’s leather-bound with worn edges. The letters F and U are stamped across the front of it in gold lettering.
FU.
Fuck You.
I laugh to myself. This has to belong to one of the college students that live in the apartment a floor above me.
If they were graded on partying, they’d be world-class scholars.
I know at least four of them live there. I’ve met them at different times the past few months as they’ve come down to my apartment to apologize for the noise.
I’ve assured each of them that it’s not a problem. I sleep heavy. A little music and raucous conversation aren’t enough to rouse me.
As soon as the doors of the lift slide open on my floor, I step out.
Laughing, I take wide steps down the corridor to the open door of my apartment, calling out as I near it, “I’m giving you one warning to show yourself, or I can’t promise that you won’t end up in a headlock.”
