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Pulling from her hand, he busied himself at the sink. “Eroticism in the age before pornography.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I like that.”
Colin still wasn’t smiling, but something hopeful eclipsed his gaze. “I thought it might be interesting to discuss how sex is described in Chaucer. Medieval lit, hot or not? Something like that.”
Allison brushed some flour off her leggings. “Have you read much about this stuff?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“So… eroticism was different back then. Most scholars see it playing out in the mystical texts more than romance and popular literature.”
“It’s not worth pursuing, then?” There was too much brittleness in his voice.
Allison touched his elbow. “I’m not saying that at all. It’s a fascinating approach. You just might be leaning hard on the texts rather than research to support your interpretation.” She gave his arm a little shake. “Plus, think of the fun you can have.”
“What do you mean?”
“All the puns!” She lowered her lashes and did her best to make her voice sultry. “His mighty weapon stood tall. The knight brandished his sword.” She made an obscene gesture to get her point across. “His pole was long and stiff, prepared for the next joust with his mistress.” Allison wagged her eyebrows, barely able to contain the giggles bubbling up her throat.
Colin didn’t laugh. Instead, he stared, his hands frozen to the countertop. “Wow. Okay. So youdothink my topic is ridiculous.”
“What? No.” Allison gaped at him. “I was just being funny.”
“At the expense of my ideas. When you know that I’m not as good at this stuff as you are.”
Allison reared back. That was the last thought on her mind. “I don’t think that.”
“You don’t need to keep parading around how much more you know about medieval lit.” He was back at the sink, hefting the full pot of water to the stove with tight shoulders. “I get it. Trust me.”
She’d never done that. Or… if she had, it was only because he’dtried to cut her down first. Allison almost accused him of rubbing his teaching skills in her face, but then remembered she wasn’t supposed to be having trouble in that area. “I wasn’t parading or mocking anything,” she mumbled instead.
When Colin returned to collect the pasta, Allison rested her palm over his knuckles. He stilled beneath her touch.
Working side by side with him today in Wendy’s class had been great. When he was around, Allison always thought harder, clearer, more deeply.
But she loved them like this more, the way they were in quiet spaces. Easy, comfortable, the world molded to fit just them. Alone with Colin (2.0), Allison could breathe, her lungs fully expanding. She wasn’t too much. Or not enough.
She was just right.
But those two versions of them couldn’t exist in tandem. They couldn’t be rivals and be together. Otherwise, both were likely to break.
“Should we not…” Allison pressed a breath between her teeth. “Should we not talk about Wendy’s class anymore? All this arguing and insecurity and trying to one up each other feels too much like how we used to be. And I like this”—she pointed between them—“so much better.”
Back at Brown, Colin used to make Allison feel small. Most of the time, he treated her as his greatest opponent rather than someone he cherished. But since their trip to Maine (and, really, even before that), it was more like she was the Enide to his Erec. He’d fight anyone to prove how much she mattered.
That was worth protecting. Maybe even at the cost of winning.…
Colin pursed his lips. His nervous hands fiddled with the arms of his glasses, even as his gaze was so intense it pinned Allison in place. “I do, too.”
“It’s agreed, then,” she said.
He nodded.
“Good.” Allison’s smile was sheepish. “Just… though. One last thing.”
“What?” he groaned.
“Do the eroticism topic.”
