She tucked a lock of her short dark brown hair behind her ear. “Tuesday. I will have it. Sheep.”
I smiled. “Right, ship.”
“Thank you, Laurel.” She put great emphasis on perfecting her ‘l’ sounds and it showed. I was certain she would have a workable “ship” pronunciation next time I saw her.
“You are very welcome.” I gathered my notebook and stuffed it into my green backpack. “Next time, then. I can find my way out. Go on. I know you want to practice.”
She grinned and nodded again before hurrying out the door. We always met in a study room at the university’s international house. It had become my home away from home ever since I began tutoring.
Now that my day was over, I looped my long blonde hair up into a ponytail and shrugged on my backpack. I needed to get back over to my dorm, warm up a frozen dinner, and work on my translation homework. It was only my sophomore year, but I had my heart set on grad school. Finishing a modern translation of Ovid’s Metamorphoses from Latin to English would be my ticket into a prestigious grad school.
I walked out of the study rooms and into the main common area of the international house. Couches and bean bags were scattered around the room, students sitting and talking or typing on their laptops. I scanned the room, looking for a certain student, but Eamon was nowhere to be seen.
I sighed my disappointment and strode to the wide double doors leading into the night. Reaching for the handle, I drew back quickly as the doors swung inward.
Eamon, laughing and looking over his shoulder, barreled right into me. I made a startled squeak and lost my footing. I shot one hand out in front of me as I fell, trying to grab onto anything to stay upright. A large palm gripped my forearm and yanked me forward.
I ended up pressed against Eamon’s chest, his arm around my waist. I inhaled, taking in the scent of his aftershave—a clean, masculine smell.
“You all right?” A deep rumble against my cheek.
I pulled away from him and looked up to his eyes. They were dark blue with a mischievous sparkle. His full lip curled up in a smile, and he held my elbows as he peered down at me. He was a good foot taller than me, and I was five foot four. My heart warmed, sending a shot of pink to my cheeks as he focused on me. I dropped my gaze to the belt of his jeans, which only made me blush more.
I’d crushed on him from afar for months. But I’d never spoken to him, just listened to his lilting Irish accent and peeked at him whenever he wasn’t looking. Something about him called to me, partly good looks, but also something else. He’d caught me staring every so often, each time giving me an inviting smile. On each occasion, I’d fled to my study room or left the international house altogether.
“Laurel, isn’t it, love?” He put a gentle finger under my chin and lifted my face to his. “You okay?”
My lungs seemed to completely deflate. “I, um, I’m fine.”
“I didn’t see you there. Apologies.” His lips were moving but all I could think was Eamon. His name played through my mind on repeat.
“Come on, man.” Noel, one of the British students, punched Eamon in the arm. “She’s fine.”
Eamon barely moved. He played soccer and was ridiculously well muscled, not shirking his upper body workouts in the least.
“I know she’s fine. I want to make sure she’s okay.” Eamon watched as my cheeks grew even hotter.
“I’m good.” As much as I wanted his attention, wanted to lose myself in his eyes, I couldn’t. “I have to go.”
I side-stepped him, immediately wanting the warmth of his touch back, and walked out into the cold night.
Eamon
She’d been in my arms. Right where she belonged, finally. But then she’d escaped. I wanted to grab her and toss her over my shoulder, take her to my room and horse it in as rough as I pleased. But she wasn’t that sort of betty. I’d learned that quite a long time before, when I’d dated her roommate.
Claudia had been a tiger in the sack, but she didn’t have enough going on upstairs to keep my interest. Her major was aerobics after all. But she’d been good enough to introduce me to Laurel, and I’d been smitten ever since. I’d dropped Claudia the day I met Laurel. Needless to say, Claudia was none too pleased with me, and Laurel avoided me at all costs.
“Come on, you todger. I want to kill some terrorists in Call of Duty.”
“Shut your gob, you bloody cocktrough.” I shoved Noel harder than I’d intended and he skittered into one of the lounging students.
“Hey!” Pablo turned around on the couch and opened his mouth to go off, but returned to his book when he got one look at my face.