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He chuckled, picking up his phone again, to answer a text message. Probably one of his many female admirers. He was too spoiled for choice, too aloof. There was no way he could grasp my feelings for Cecilia.
“Pfft! You don’t understand. You’re just a playboy. Don’t you ever want something more from all your fangirls than just sex? Something meaningful?” I knew he did. That hollow, empty look in his eyes after the girls left in the morning gave him a haunted look.
Osric’s smile and lighthearted manner melted, his face grimacing, glum. “Something meaningful? Tie my heart to someone here, only to have it torn away by the beast of duty? When I, inevitably, have to go back to England and marry that empty-headed princess, Beatrice?”
I shrugged. “Well, you can always say no, can’t you?”
His smile reappeared and he laughed out loud. “Now it’s you who doesn’t understand, old friend.” Reclining back into the couch, he put the volume up on the TV and began watching the war movie, smiling, and mumbling to himself. “Oh my, what an odd couple we are. The prince and the professor.”
I might not have understood Osric’s situation, but I was completely sure about my own.
Cecilia’s light was calling to both me and my beast.
We wanted to bask in it, as much as she would let us.
We both craved her, and I was going to do something about it.
Cecilia
My second day was going well. I’d started my janitor duties super early, and my supervisor, a grouchy but kind old shifter granny, had let me get away early.
Now, one class down, I had a mid-morning break, and I’d strolled to the campus café for a cappuccino. Well, everyone seemed to call it the café, but it was actually a complex, housing a few different places to eat and drink.
Ground and basement floors held the coffee shop, calledMoonbucks, while the second and third floors were home to a fifties-themed diner and sushi bar, respectively. The top floor, the one I would most definitely not be visiting, had a vamp blood café with a stand open 24 hours, but the real heart of the business, only opened after dark. A lucky thing for me, that vamps preferred to feed at night. The thought of crimson smoothies and cocktails reeking of iron made my stomach churn.
Anyway, the coffee shop part, which I was currently standing in, was the main hub for daytime socializing on campus. Students of all breeds were milling in and out, congregating in their separate throngs, making the most of the facilities, and with good reason.
Exorbitant tuition fees had financed some super cozy furnishings. Plush velvet and leather upholstery clothed fancy chairs and booths, while the mahogany tables, oak floors and stairs were shiny with varnish and polish. The walls were encrusted with exposed stones, to create a rustic impression, and the plaster surrounding them was laid thick, sumptuous like buttercream.
Soft wafts of air conditioning felt pleasantly cool against my forearms and neck as I looked at their china cups, arranged upside down in tall stacks beside the enormous barista machine. The largest size was like a soup bowl. Why did anyone need that much caffeine?
I ordered a small one and looked around for a place to sit.
The entire ground floor was crammed. I guessed there might have been an open spot in the basement, but I wanted to look out the window, and enjoy the sun washing over green trees and grass. Oh well, I’d probably be able to find a decent place to sit outside. I asked for my coffee to go instead.
Resting my palm on the counter, I leaned forward to check out their freshly baked selection. Wonderful aromas were rising up from behind the glass. I hadn’t been hungry walking in, not with thoughts of the vamp café, but the smells were massaging my stomach to the point of surrender. Buttery vapors of pastry paraded themselves past my nose, and I couldn’t say no.
I got a Danish that reminded me of Jax: large, delicious looking, and much more tempting than I’d thought anything in New Nebraska would be.
Romance hadn’t exactly been on my radar, moving here. But thinking about it more as I’d fallen asleep last night, I was sure he’d been interested in me, both before and after I’d been injured. It was more than him just being polite.
I had almost no experience flirting—I just hadn’t had the time and we were never in one place that long—but I was in college now and settling here. I wouldn’t say no to exploring something with someone just because they weren’t like me.
Or, at the very least, being friends with them.
My phone chimed its first hello of the morning, from inside my bag. Fishing it out, I swiped the screen to find a message from the big guy himself.
Hey, how are you feeling? How’s your jaw?
The swelling had gone way down overnight, and all that was visible was a mild rosy glow, that I’d covered with makeup. It was so thoughtful of him to be checking up on me though.
Hey! I’m doing great. It’s much better, thanks. How are you?
My order came and I slipped the wrapped Danish into my bag, picking up the coffee and sipping through the plastic takeaway top’s little hole, at the chocolate-dusted froth and bitter heat underneath. He fired back another message as I was about to make my way to the exit.
That’s great to hear. Will I see you back in class next week? I’ve got a few holds I’d like to show you. You might not be able to escape. You might not want to…
He ended his text with a grinning emoji. He was flirting!
