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“Dean’s coming in early so we’ll go to lunch with them later. With the traffic, I think we should leave for DC no later than three.”
“So technically how much time do we have until we need to be ready for lunch?”
“Few hours.”
“That’ll do” He stands quickly and bends down to pick me up. “I’m taking you back to bed for a proper good morning. We have six weeks of ‘frustration’ to work on.”
“I like the sound of that.” I giggle.
“Hopefully, you’ll do more than like it.” He gives me a look that sends a shiver through my body.
Two hours later, I come to the conclusion that if not having sex with Bryce is this good, finally having sex will be amazing.
Chapter 10
Getting to Washington took longer than we expected and by the time we check into our hotel, there’s only an hour before we have to leave. The good thing about this is I’m so rushed, there’s no time to get nervous.
“Hey, will you help me with my zipper?” I ask, slipping on my shoes.
“Gorgeous,” he whispers against my neck as he zips the dress.
“Pretty good looking yourself.” I turn to him and admire how hot he is in a classic black suit. He opted not to wear a tie and left the top buttons of his shirt open. In my opinion, he looks like he walked off the pages of a magazine.
“Stop looking at me like that or we’ll be late.” Bryce helps me into my jacket and kisses my cheek softly.
We meet Dean and Quinn in the lobby and then get a cab to the museum. As soon as we arrive, butterflies flutter in my stomach. I see most of the other students mingling around. Professor Davis comes over to greet us and tells us where to find the programs with the layout of the exhibit.
Bryce and Dean grab us a drink and we walk around admiring the pieces. There’s a section dedicated to the student work but in my opinion some of our projects are just as good as the professional works.
“Quinn told me about her story and picture, but tell me about yours,” Dean asks me.
“The day we came to D.C., I passed a woman and her children sitting in an alley crying. The woman was trying to sooth her two small children. They were hesitant of me at first, but once I explained I was a student working on a project, they relaxed. The reason I chose this picture was the tearstained cheeks and look of pain on the mother’s face. You can clearly see they are Middle Eastern, Iraqi, but they are American citizens.
“Walking through the streets that day, the war protestors screams scared the children. They asked their mother about some of the things being said. Once they started crying, she took them into the alley to calm them down.”
“Were the protestors actually screaming at them?” Dean questions.
“No, and in actuality, my project wasn’t about their experience. I chose to hone in and exploit the innocence of the children. That mother had to explain the concept of hatred and violence to her five and six year old that day. An outing to do Christmas shopping turned into a nightmare for this woman.
“I just gave you the cliff notes version, but my story was much more detailed. I fully respect the right to free speech, but tried to spin how sometimes we get lost.”
“Sounds interesting.”
“It’s a great paper,” Bryce adds.
A sense of pride washes over me and I wrap my arms around his waist. We walk over to Quinn’s project and she explains it to Bryce. Hers is more politically driven about the actual protests.
A woman walks up on stage and welcomes everyone. She points out the committee members in the crowd and then does a general congratulations and thanks for coming. The committee is going to be coming to each of the exhibits, hoping to meet us, so Bryce and I stay close to my work.
“This is really amazing.” I look around the room.
“It is. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you for being here with me.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d be.” He bends and brushes a light kiss over my lips.
“Devon.” Professor Davis comes up with two men.
