A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Page 3

  “Hey, so about earlier—”

  “Don’t tell me I managed to get a third strike against me. I wasn’t even talking.”

  She laughed and some of the tension drained away. He did seem like a good guy and there was no denying he was attractive, especially now that he’d cleaned himself up a little. And, he was a damn fine Pac-Man partner.

  “No, you’re holding steady at two strikes.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “For now.”

  “Good thing. I didn’t want to get kicked out of the country after only being here a few days.” He held his hands, which were shoved into the pockets of his denim jacket, out to his sides.

  “I don’t blame you. That would’ve been embarrassing, and speaking of embarrassing moments . . .” She blew out a breath. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. The whole dance thing—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m terrible anyway. Believe me, you saved yourself a lot of pain.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, but honestly, it had nothing to do with you. I’m rubbish in crowded spaces. If I were to dance, it would have to be on a dancefloor with plenty of space.”

  He lowered his hands back to his sides and nodded as though making a mental note. “Got it, no crowded dance floors. Anything else I should know?”

  She laughed and decided Bailey wasn’t a bad guy at all. In fact, if she didn’t have so much going on with school and if her entire future wasn’t riding on the upcoming year, she would’ve considered seeing more of him, but that wasn’t possible.

  “Well,” she paused beside a stretch of brick row houses a few minutes later, “thanks for the company.”

  “Any time.” He kicked at a loose stone and then tilted his head to one side. “You know, this was one of the best nights I’ve had in a while. Thanks for that.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  He was standing close to her, close enough to touch. Jess’s words echoed somewhere in the corner of her mind and before she had time to consider all the ways this was crazy, she snaked a hand out and latched onto his jacket, pulling him the remaining inches toward her.

  She paused, and he kept his eyes on hers as he leaned in, his lips brushing hers once, and then again, until her eyes fluttered closed.

  God, yes, his mouth felt good on hers. The heat, the strength of his lips, the slight brush of day old stubble. She’d missed this more than she’d realized until this moment. Somewhere far away someone sighed, possibly her, and she kissed him again.

  Bailey’s hands slid from her waist up to her face until he was cradling her head and tasting every corner of her mouth. Jesus. This was a man who knew what he was doing. He wasn’t some freshman boy, he was a man, the kind who would make sure to please a woman in bed. Under normal circumstances she would’ve been shocked by her train of thought, but with Bailey’s mouth on hers, all of her thoughts were muddled at best.

  The breeze swept around them as they stood clinging to each other in the dark, frozen in a spell of their own making until blinding lights bore down on them and they pulled apart, each a little breathless. She bit her lip, a little surprised at her own actions.

  He whisked a hand through his hair. “See you around, I hope?”

  She wanted to see more of him, but better to keep things light. There was no reason to give him hope or to act as though she had time to devote to any sort of relationship. She shook herself mentally for not just living in the moment. It was only a kiss.

  Yeah, the way Van Gogh was only a painter.

  “I’m sure you will and if you ever need a Pac-Man partner . . .”

  “I’ll know who to call.” He winked, and her stomach fluttered. This was so not good.

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, as Brie glanced over her notes, she took a steadying breath to calm her nerves. Though she knew the material backwards and forewords, it was her first time leading Art History as the primary instructor. In the past, she’d filled in on the rare occasion the regular professor couldn’t be there, but as a doctorate student, the undergraduate class was hers to teach.

  As the auditorium style seats filled, she reached for her coffee, but when her hand shook due to over-caffeinating, she pulled her it back. Instead, she held her head high and waited for everyone to get settled. Now wasn’t the time to show weakness.

  “Good morning, everyone and welcome to The Ruskin School of Art.” She blew out another steadying breath and forced the slight tremor of nerves from her voice. “I’m Brie Freeman and I’m going to be your instructor this term. If you’re not supposed to be in Art History One, you’re in the wrong place.”

  One guy near the back shot out of his seat, arms loaded with a tablet and backpack and took off out the door.

  “Good, now let’s get to work.” Brie moved to the lights and flipped them off allowing the audience to see the projector screen with clarity. “This term, the majority of our class time will be dedicated to discussing art from the Renaissance period. It was a fascinating time and one that is significant because it marks the transition of Europe from the Medieval Period to the Early Modern age.”

  Brie tapped her tablet to change to the first slide showcasing a world-famous drawing. “You can find this drawing and others by Michelangelo right here in our Ashmolean Museum, which brings me to our first assignment. You will all need to visit the Ashmolean Museum in person and choose a piece from the Arts of the Renaissance collection to write a three-page paper, as mentioned on page one of your syllabus.”

  She pointed to the image with her laser pointer and traced the lines of the subject’s face. “I want to know how it speaks to you. What about it catches your eye? What is the mood of the painting and why do you think so?”

  Her eyes flitted across the eager faces as the students typed or wrote as she spoke. They seemed young though they were only a handful of years her junior, and in some ways she envied them. Where she was locked into her future, most of the students before her had endless possibilities ahead them. Their futures were blank canvasses whereas hers was only awaiting the finishing touches.

  “You can find all the information you’ll need for this assignment as well as others on my website. Now, let’s begin with . . .” As she started to turn back to the screen her gaze caught on a familiar face. “With, uh . . .”

  She shook her head, convinced her mind was playing tricks on her the way it had been since the night at the pub—since the kiss. The student in the audience looked exactly like Bailey, but with his head down, she couldn’t be sure. Besides, it wasn’t possible. Bailey was too old to be a freshman and he wasn’t a student. This was a case of nerves and hers were not going to get the best of her.

  “We’re going to start with—”

  The boy with the similar features looked up at her and grinned. The same unnerving smile which had turned her into a bloody muppet outside her flat echoed back to her in class. What the hell was he doing there? And, how was she supposed to get through the entire term with him sending her into a stupor every time she laid eyes on him?

  She straightened her shoulders and turned away, a new determination taking hold. This was her class and she couldn’t afford to let some bloke distract her, no matter how attractive he was. Or the fact that she couldn’t stop daydreaming about kissing him again and a few other things she might like to do to him. No.

  She swiped her finger across her screen hard enough to create heat. “Right, so let’s begin with one of the greats, Mr. Leonardo da Vinci.”

  When the end of the hour rolled around and the class emptied, then and only then did she allow herself to glance in the direction he’d been sitting. Sighing with relief when she found his seat empty, she hefted her bag onto her shoulder to leave. By some sort of miracle, and a superhuman amount of self-control, she’d gotten through the rest of the lecture without tripping over her word
s. Of course, it had helped that she hadn’t let her gaze shift even a fraction past the middle of the room. No point in risking it.

  Her cell phone beeped inside her pocket and she paused outside the class to fish it out. When her ex’s name appeared on the screen, a twist of dread moved through her chest. He wasn’t one for checking in. The only time Theo called was when he needed something and like her new student, he was a distraction she couldn’t afford.

  ~ ~ ~

  “So, how was it?” Jessica dropped her heavy bag on the table, banging the chair against the table leg as she sat. Her arrival at the library didn’t go unnoticed. Several people cut eyes in their direction showing their distaste at her chosen volume.

  “It was fine,” Brie whispered, dropping a hint at her friend. She tapped her pencil on her cheek while Jessica pulled out a large text and her laptop. “Okay, it wasn’t exactly fine. It was a total cluster starting with class and ending with a call from Theo.”

  Only too happy to put studying off, Jessica leaned in closer, eyes wide enough to send her eyebrows into her hairline. “Start at the beginning and leave nothing out.”

  “Remember the guy from the pub, Bailey?”

  “You mean the one you assaulted with hot coffee and then snogged?” Jessica snickered. “Yeah, I remember. Whenever I’m feeling bored I conjure up the memory and it always makes me smile.”

  Brie narrowed her eyes and sat back in her chair. “If you’re going to be like that about it, never mind.”

  “No, no, no. I’m sorry.” Jessica leaned across the table and took her hand, her stack of bracelets jingling. “It’s fun to poke fun at the girl who never makes mistakes or gets flustered.”

  “Oh, please. We both know that isn’t true.” Brie pulled her hand away, crossed her arms over her chest, and gazed out over the other tables. Aside from the Art School buildings, the library was where she spent the majority of her time and she wasn’t alone. Several of the faces of those seated nearby belonged to other grad students and DPhil candidates.

  “Brie, you always have it together. You got to university knowing exactly what you wanted to do and how you were going to achieve it while the rest of us floundered for a year or two.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  “I’m serious. It’s good to see you’re not a robot sometimes.”

  “Thank you? I think.”

  Jessica laughed and when a guy at the table behind them hissed a ‘shh’ in their direction, they both leaned in again. “What were you going to tell me about the delicious guitar guy?”

  “He’s in my class.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, as in, he’s a student.”

  “And, you thought he was homeless.” Jessica started to laugh, but after daring a glance over her shoulder seemed to think better of it. She settled for a smirk instead. “Isn’t that an interesting development? Do you think he can play the song ‘Hot For Teacher’ on his guitar?”

  “Why are we friends again?”

  “Oh, Brie, come on. It’s not like you’d be the Mrs. Robinson in this situation. He looked around our age.”

  “It’s not about age.” When Brie’s voice came out louder than intended, she dropped back into a whisper. “He’s a student, which means he’s off limits.”

  Jessica made a distorted kissy face. “You can always set him up with me. I’m not his teacher, but I wouldn’t mind teaching him a few things.”

  “Good Lord.” Brie rolled her eyes toward the heavens. “This is going to be a fun semester.”

  Jessica smacked her lips. “Could be.”

  “You are impossible.”

  “Thank you,” Jessica settled back in her chair, sly as a cat, “Now, tell me what that wanker Theo wanted.”

  Brie didn’t want to talk about Theo, he was her past, but Jess was the one person who would understand. She let out a huff of air. “He wanted what he always wants.”

  “Did you tell him to buggar off?”

  “No, I didn’t call him back. It’s easier to ignore him.”

  Jessica’s smile faded and a hint of concern crossed her features. “Until he shows up at our door like he did the last time.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Jess. You know I am.”

  Eyes sympathetic, her friend folded her hands on the table, “I’m not mad. I’m worried about you. When are you going to stop giving into his demands? You can’t keep this up.”

  “I know, but—”

  “But nothing, Brie. He’s wronged you in almost every way a person can and he’s still taking and taking. You don’t have the money to keep paying him off.”

  Brie nodded and wiped away a tear, annoyed Theo still held control over her after everything he’d done.

  Jessica reached a hand across the table and squeezed hers. “Come on, love. Cheer up. You have more important things to think about than Theo, like maybe one of your students . . .”

  Brie wiped under her eyes one last time and laughed, “Oh shut up. I never should’ve told you.”

  “What fun would that’ve been?”

  “It isn’t always about fun, Jessica. Sometimes it’s about doing the right thing.”

  “I think it can be both.”

  Brie shook her head and opened her laptop. She’d tried fun once before and it had led to nothing but embarrassment and trouble. She wasn’t going there again.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bailey ducked his head against the drizzle of rain as he made his way across the street to his row house. It wasn’t much, but it worked. Besides, he spent months at a time living in hotels and on tour buses. If he could share a bus with a bunch of foul-smelling guys, he could live about anywhere.

  He slinked out of his jacket and hung it near the door at the same time he toed off his boots. The denim jacket hadn’t done much to keep out the dampness and, as he looked around, he was reminded again how nice it would be to have a dryer. As he pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the pile of dirty clothes at the foot of his bed, he winced. There were times, like now, he missed the hell out of his housekeeper Rosa.

  Thumping sounded through the wall he shared with the guys living in the house next door. Like him, they were students, but while he was an undergrad, they were nearing the end of their time at Oxford. The banging sounded again followed by a muffled, “Hullo.”

  Bailey jumped onto the couch and banged back. “Sup, fellas?”

  Their laughter echoed back. “Wanna play for a bit?”

  Bailey’s gaze landed on his guitar where it was leaning against the wall. He hadn’t touched it since he’d played in the park. He’d tried to see if being outside and playing for fun instead of as an obligation would bring him more enjoyment, but he hadn’t felt the usual pull. Although, he had met a certain woman that day and while his feelings toward the music hadn’t changed, he couldn’t deny a certain yearning had sparked when she’d kissed him.

  There were two pounds against the wall when he didn’t respond.

  “Yeah, give me a second.”

  Bailey picked at a thread on one of the cushions while the brief moment of loneliness passed. The feeling wasn’t new to him, even when he’d been touring with the band over the last year he’d had moments when he looked at them and felt removed. It wasn’t their fault any more than it was his, but he couldn’t stop it, the lingering nag of separateness. His mother, when he’d dared to broach the subject with her once, had said it was because he’d gone through something no else could understand and she’d encouraged him to join a support group. He’d tried her advice and attended a couple of meetings at the hospital, but either his celebrity or remission set him apart.

  His brother tried to get him to work on a couple of new songs while they’d been on the road, but like everything else, he couldn’t seem to c
onnect. The music was there inside him, but he couldn’t reach it. There was some sort of invisible barrier holding him back.

  He tore the string off and crossed to the kitchen. It was time to shake the moodiness. He opened the fridge and pulled out everything he needed for his daily smoothie. He’d left plenty behind at his condo in L.A., but not his Ninja blender. After his year spent in and out of hospitals he’d made a few life changes and his daily green smoothie was one of them.

  A knock sounded on his door and a minute later he and his neighbors were lounging around the covered patio, instruments in hand.

  “Damn, man, what’re you drinking?”

  Bailey set his clear cup filled with the kale infused smoothie down by his feet and grinned. “I’m super into health.” He considered flexing to annoy John further, but refrained. He wasn’t alone in his feelings. Leo tended to be more than a little grossed out when he made them on the tour bus.

  “It can’t taste good,” John, the eldest one of the group scowled.

  “Shut up,” Freddie kicked his leg. “You wouldn’t know healthy food if it hit you in the face.”

  “Jesus, if it looks like that, I don’t want to.”

  “C’mon you lot,” Cohen tapped out a few notes on his keyboard, but unlike the others, he didn’t play for fun. Cohen was considered a musical prodigy and based on the music Bailey heard pouring through the wall on the rare occasion Cohen was composing at the house, he deducted there might be some truth to the claim.

  They warmed up with a popular Queen song and then agreed to play around with something new Cohen had been working on. Sitting out on the side porch of his row house wasn’t exactly the same as sitting on his back balcony with the ocean extending the length of the horizon before him, but it wasn’t bad either.