A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Read online

Strips of taupe colored row houses lined the narrow road, mostly occupied by other Oxford students. He was one of the few first-year students living out as they called living off campus, but it was the only way to earn a little privacy. He was, after all, a great deal older than most of the other undergrads and like his neighbor friends, people eventually figured out who he was.

  “Not bad.” Cohen leaned over his paper, pulled his pencil out from behind his ear and scribbled something before pointing to one of the other guys. “Hey, Freddie, do you mind picking up the tempo on the last few chords? And, John, will you let the last note of the second verse hold an extra two beats?”

  They started again from the middle of the song, this time, making the few adjustments Cohen suggested. With the slight changes the song flowed until it swelled into what one might hear at the climax of a movie.

  “Hey, ladies,” John shouted over the music. They continued to play while he motioned for whomever it was he could see to come over. “Come join us.”

  John stood and offered his seat to Jessica and another lady who was hiding behind her. They took the offered loveseat and huddled together they way girls always seemed to do when outside their element. Once seated, there was no mistaking the dark hair or the slim build.

  Brie looked up and her eyes went wide at the sight of him. He grinned. This was a pleasant turn of events.

  “Hi, Professor.”

  “Oh, well,” her cheeks turned scarlet when her eyes landed on his bare chest, “I’m not technically a professor yet. It’s just Miss Freeman. Or, Brie, when we’re not in class.”

  “Until the end of the year,” Jessica bumped her shoulder. “Then, it’ll be Doctor Freeman.” The group whistled and cheered.

  “Really? Nice.” Bailey spun his guitar around once and leaned it against the side of his chair. “Until then, Miss Freeman, it is.”

  “So, whose digs?” Jessica stared around the space seeming to take in every detail.

  “This is Bailey’s place, but he’s nice enough to let us hang out over here.”

  Bailey shrugged. “It’s no problem.”

  Jessica’s mouth fell open, “Do you have this whole place to yourself?”

  He chuckled, “Yes, I’m afraid so. I like my privacy.”

  “That’s brilliant.” She nudged Brie’s leg with her own. “She thought you were a hobo after we saw you in the park the other day.”

  Freddie snorted, “A hobo? Bailey? Not bloody likely.”

  Bailey silenced him with a look. He didn’t mind them knowing who he was, but it was more fun for him if they didn’t, at least for a little longer. They could make up their own minds about him before they found out how he’d spent the last decade because no matter what, it would alter their opinions of him.

  John stood, “Do either of you ladies fancy a brew?”

  “Sure,” Jessica got to her feet, “I’ll help.”

  Brie tried to follow them, “I can help, too.”

  “No, stay and hang out. We’ll be right back.” Jessica followed John back around the side of the house toward the guy’s place. They weren’t gone thirty seconds before a squeal pierced the air. “Sorry, guys, all good,” Jessica shouted a second later.

  Freddie and Cohen exchanged knowing glances. So much for keeping his identity a secret. Bailey ignored them and turned his full attention to Brie, “It’s nice to see you again.”

  The words were simple, but he meant them. For the last week he’d hoped more than a few times that he’d run into her again outside of class. It’d been a long time since a woman had stayed with him and he had no intention of letting Brie disappear before he had the chance to see if there was more to what had passed between them than a kiss.

  Chapter 4

  Brie was going to kill Jessica for leaving her alone. She let her gaze drop to her hands as she tried to decide what to say. Anything was better than staring at the man before her. Bailey was relaxed as he could be, no shirt, no shoes, and a smirk she wanted to knock off his face. Why couldn’t he have mentioned he was attending classes the night they’d hung out? She was his instructor for pity’s sake and yet the way he was studying her made her feel like the uneasy student on the first day of class.

  “I’m not sure how much I should say about myself considering you’re my student.” When he let the silence stretch between them, she shifted in her seat. It was clear he wasn’t easily deterred. She sighed, “I’m an instructor, a grad student, and that’s all I have time for.”

  “Maybe not all.” He stretched his legs out before him and crossed them at the ankles before grinning at her. “You have to make time for a little Pac-Man now and again.”

  The tight space forced his feet within inches of her own, but she would not move away. She raised her eyes to meet his and saw the challenge reflected there. His mouth twisted into a failed suppressed grin.

  Challenge accepted, pal.

  “What about you? She kept her tone even and tried to enunciate with a hint of authority as if to remind him she was the one he should be trying to impress and not the other way around. “Why are you in my class? Why art school?”

  “Hmm, that’s a long story.” He scratched his head and squinted. “I might be willing to tell you about it over dinner.”

  Her mouth fell open. “That would hardly be appropriate.”

  “You were the one rubbing my legs within two minutes of seeing me.” He grinned again. “Who’s the inappropriate one now?”

  “There was coffee. I was trying to—”

  “And, after I walked you home you—”

  “I know what happened, thanks.”

  The other guys, whom she’d forgotten were there, snickered behind their instruments at the same time heat flooded her cheeks. Normally she could take a joke, but he was infuriating. The screen door opened with a squeak. Thank God.

  She shot to her feet. “Jessica, didn’t you say you needed to be at the studio by three?”

  Jessica grinned complete with excess eyelash fluttering as she handed a drink to Bailey and then turned, confused. “I don’t remember saying . . .”

  Brie narrowed her eyes.

  “Oh, right. Yeah, I did.” Jessica reluctantly set down the remaining drink she was holding. “Sorry, John, bad luck. I’ll catch up with you later on.”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Well, bye then.” Jessica giggled and then looped her arm through Brie’s.

  “See you guys later.” Brie took care not to look at Bailey, Bailey with his lean body and toned muscles on display for all to admire. He may’ve acted charming at the pub, but it seemed that’s all it ever was, an act.

  “See you in class, Miss Freeman.”

  His voice forced her to betray her own resolve and she glanced his way. Infuriating or not, he was nice to look at. Unlike the blokes who spent too many hours in the gym building muscles until their necks were non-existent, Bailey was trim and smooth, more like the statues of the men she taught about in class.

  She nodded once and let Jessica pull her away. As they made their way down the lane toward their flat, Jessica jumped into the air in an explosion of excitement, nearly yanking Brie’s arm out of the socket.

  “What the devil’s gotten into you?”

  “You’re never going to believe this.”

  Brie rotated her shoulder while Jessica danced what could only be described as a jig in the middle of the street. “What’re you talking about?”

  “That guy, Bailey?”

  Brie started walking again. She was over worrying about that irksome, impossible yank. Class on Wednesday would be soon enough to think about him again.

  “Well, you know how he was playing a Survival of the Fittest song when we heard him in the park?”

  “Yeah, so what? Everyone knows Surviv
al songs the same way everyone, whether they’ll admit it or not, knows a song by Nickelback.”

  “Oh, no. It’s more than that and please don’t compare Survival to Nickelback. That’s insulting.” Jessica’s hands flailed in her excitement. “Anyway, he is a member of Survival of the Fittest. As in, he’s the lead guitarist, Bailey Honeycutt.”

  “Don’t be daft, Jess. Who told you that, John?” Brie stuffed her hands in her pockets as the rain started up again. “He’s having a go at you.”

  “No, it’s true. I thought he was kidding, too, but then he pulled up a picture of the band on his phone to prove it.” Jessica grabbed her arm and they halted to a stop. “I’m telling you, it’s him.”

  Brie blinked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, and you thought he was a hobo. He’s probably got more money than the Queen.” Jessica broke out into a manic laugh. “Can you believe it?” She set off for their place and left Brie standing in the middle of the road, her laughter trailing behind her on the wind.

  This was not possible. Her mind simply wouldn’t accept it. She dug her phone out of her back pocket and typed the band’s name into Google and clicked Images. She zoomed in on the first picture and then on the second. This could not be happening.

  A horn blasted as a lorry came barreling down the street toward her. Brie jumped back out of the way, but didn’t let a little thing like almost getting run over stop her from scrolling. It was him. There was no way it wasn’t. The tattoos matched, the sly grin, and though he had longer hair in most of the pictures, there was no denying it.

  She blew out a breath and hit herself in the forehead with her phone. Just when she thought she couldn’t feel like a bigger prat . . .

  The door was unlocked for her when she finally dragged herself inside and there on the sofa, kicked back without a care in the world, was Jessica. “You believe me now, don’t you?” Her smug expression did nothing to help Brie’s mood.

  “Don’t start.”

  Jessica sat up, suddenly excited all over again. “Oh, come on, Brie. This is huge, isn’t it? Bailey Honeycutt right here in Oxford.”

  “Lucky us.”

  “You mean lucky you. He’s already kissed you. This is your chance.” Jessica let out a sigh of aggravation as she hung her head upside down off the floral pillow. “Why aren’t you more enthusiastic? This is the best news I’ve had in my five years here.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. My chance . . . that’s ridiculous. We’re here to work and learn, not fangirl over some guitar player.” Brie shook out her damp hair and opened the refrigerator. Maybe if he were someone else, someone who didn’t make her go stupid she’d feel differently, but so far all she could tell about Bailey Honeycutt was that he was smug, rich, and dangerous—as was the nature of attractive men with money.

  Unlike herself, he most likely hadn’t had to bust his ass to get into school. She paused with the can of soda in her hand. How had he gotten in? Ugh. She slammed the door closed. For all she knew there would be a new building named after him in the coming months, proof he’d paid his way in.

  “I can’t believe you’re being like this.”

  Brie flopped down on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest. “Like what? Sensible?”

  “How is it sensible to pretend like you don’t like him?”

  “I hardly know him.”

  Jessica sat up and pointed a finger at her, “Precisely, and you still kissed him. You never just have a go to have a go. You were into him.”

  She shifted her knees away from Jessica and flipped on the tele. “Yeah, well, I’m not anymore.”

  Jessica sprang off the sofa, blocking her view of the Doctor Who rerun she was trying to focus on, “You’re completely mental by the way.”

  “I’m focused.”

  “Argh,” Jessica huffed as she left the room. “Insanity is not focus. It’s just insanity.”

  “You should engrave that on one of your sculptures,” Brie called after her. She tried to let David Tennent distract her, but when she caught sight of her phone sitting on the table, she picked it up and opened her search engine back up. Bailey’s face filled the screen.

  How had this man with his perfect life ended up in her class? And, not only that, she’d kissed him. Deny it as she might, Jess was right. She had been into him. She scrolled through a couple more pictures and then threw her phone to the opposite side of the sofa. Bailey Honeycutt was out of the question.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bailey twirled his beer bottle between his fingers as John returned to the seat he’d offered up to Jessica and Brie. He wished they’d stayed longer, or at least that Brie had. If so, she might’ve had the chance to loosen up and been a little less formal. Then, maybe he would’ve gotten a chance to talk her into going out with him before she realized he was in a band. Because, there was no doubt in his mind she knew. Her friend, Jessica, hadn’t exactly done a bang-up job at hiding the fact she was in on his little secret.

  Freddie, as though reading his thoughts, launched an empty cup at John’s head.

  John blocked it at the last second and scowled. “What the hell was that for?”

  “Why did you out our boy to Jessica?”

  John’s eyes swung between Bailey and Freddie, a dumbfounded expression on his face. “What?”

  “Bailey was trying to make some progress with the lovely Brie before telling her his true identity.” Freddie leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Isn’t that right, mate?”

  Bailey let one shoulder rise and fall. “She’s cool.”

  “See, John, that’s rock star speak for he fancies her.”

  Abashed, John looked at Bailey. “Sorry, man. I didn’t realize.”

  He shook his head. “No worries. She was bound to find out sooner or later. And, on top of it all she’s my professor.”

  “That’s a tough break,” Cohen added, finally tearing himself away from the piece of music he’d been working on and acknowledging their presence. “She’ll never go for you now. Not as long as she’s your instructor. Brie is a follow-the-rules kind of girl.”

  Bailey’s grin returned. “That’s okay. I’m a patient man.” And, he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to take a shot at the first woman who’d peaked his interest in three years.

  Chapter 5

  With his bag slung over his shoulder, Bailey set off toward the elder of the two Ruskin buildings. He’d obsessed over his paper for Art History for the better part of a week, and he was in dire need of coffee. After he’d turned it in the previous night, one minute before the midnight deadline, he’d lain awake worrying over the content.

  “All right, mate?”

  “Morning, John,” Bailey waited while his neighbor locked his door and joined him on the street. “Where’re you heading?”

  “Just up the street to the media lab. I’ve got to get started on a project and they have the 3D printer I need.” John held up a hand to signal they were crossing to an oncoming bus. “What about you? Where to?”

  “Art History with the formidable Miss Freeman.”

  “Ah yes, Brie.” John hopped up onto the curb, his strides graceful despite his size. “She’s a force to be reckoned with. I met her and Jessica a few years back at a summer ball, both gorgeous and too smart to give our group the time of day.”

  “What about now? Are you and Jessica . . .?”

  “No, man. We’re friends. Besides, I think Cohen has a little thing for Jess.”

  “Hmm.” Bailey pictured Cohen, floppy hair, glasses, serious expression more often than not, and someone he hadn’t heard speak more than about ten words since he’d met him. His intense concentration on his music rarely allowed for idle chatting with the boys.

  John snorted. “I know he doesn’t say much, but he’s
a good bloke.” He paused on the corner where they would be parting ways. “Just whatever you do, don’t speak against his beloved Red Devils.”

  “His what?”

  John threw his head back and laughed from his gut. “Definitely don’t say that either. He’s bloody in love with football and he isn’t afraid to challenge anyone who speaks against Manchester United. He’s been thrown out of more than a few pubs for defending their name.”

  “Oh, so he’s into soccer as well as music.” Bailey rocked back on his heels, pleased he’d figured it out. “That’s cool.”

  John shook his head, “Careful, B, your yank is showing.” He offered him a farewell wave and took off at a jog.

  By the time Bailey reached class most of the chairs were occupied and Brie was in her place at the front of the room. As she spoke with a fellow student he noted how her eyes were alight with energy. At ease and without her guard up as per her usual around him, she was breathtaking. Unlike a lot of nipped, tucked, tweaked, and bleached girls from home, Brie with her raven hair and fair skin had a natural beauty.

  Her eyes skimmed past him, too quick to flash her a smile before she put her back to him and flipped to the first slide of the day. He shook his head and began to type out the facts she offered as she moved through the day’s lesson on da Vinci. It was always the same in class, she’d never meet his eyes. Most days, she seemed to pretend the left side of the room didn’t exist. If it were someone else, he might take it personally, but when she’d kissed him, there was no mistaking she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

  He cleared his throat and pushed the night they met out of his mind. It wouldn’t do well to lose sight of the lesson. The rest of his classes were going well enough, but art was where his interest lay and the class he cared about above all. The other core classes were a means to an end and fortunately, he didn’t have to retake the few he’d taken during high school.