Better Deeds Than Words (Words#2) (22 page)

I was right. You do taste like sweet velvet—the champagne chaser is definitely a bonus
.

I snapped my laptop closed, quickly crossed off Sunday March 29th on my calendar, and crawled into bed. Closing my eyes, I imagined Daniel licking his way from my neck to my breasts, continuing down my body, his fingertips slipping purposefully between my thighs…

It’s an unfortunate reality, but true. Sometimes the only way to deal with life-threatening sexual tension was to take matters into your own hands.

“Have you noticed that Daniel really likes to use his hands—when he talks, I mean?” Julie whispered to me in class the next day, a naughty expression on her face. We’d sat through our Monday lecture, and now Daniel was walking us through the sign-up procedure for the performance of
Much Ado About Nothing
and the sonnet conferences coming up the following week.

I kicked her foot, and she smothered a snort. She was echoing my own dirty thoughts, though. Daniel had one hand on his hip, but was gesturing animatedly with the other as he spoke. My face grew warm as I remembered how I’d fantasized about him the night before. I couldn’t wait until
his
fingers brought me pleasure instead of my own. I continued watching him intently while he answered questions.

From somewhere behind me, I heard Lindsay’s insipid voice. “Daniel, do you need to know what sonnet we’re doing ahead of time, so you can, like, read it before our conference?”

“You can tell me if you’d like, but I’m fairly comfortable with the sonnets. I’m sure I’ll be able to keep up. Feel free to surprise me if you’d prefer.” He smiled indulgently.

I had to admit, he had his moments of cockiness. I may have been falling head over heels in love with Daniel, but I wasn’t completely blind to his faults. This was a good thing.

“So, these are your tests. I don’t have time to chat about them now, but you’re welcome to make an appointment if you have any questions,” Daniel said, fanning the booklets out on the front table.

Everyone took turns rooting through the pile. Some people dashed out the door without looking at their papers while others stood and leafed carefully through their test booklets. Julie glanced at hers, gave me a hug, and rushed off to a rehearsal.

I stared at my test, trying to decipher the writing scribbled across the top. There were two marks, one of them crossed out. Either my eyes were deceiving me, or it looked as though Daniel had given me a perfect grade. Holy shit! What the hell was he doing? Talk about losing his objectivity!

I waited for everyone else to filter out of the room, and then I stood in the empty aisle, watching Daniel collect his things. He looked up at me expectantly.

“Yes, Miss Price? Something you wanted to ask?”

I looked over my shoulder to make sure we were alone before approaching the desk.

“Daniel, what’s this all about?” I held up my test. “What were you thinking?”

“Miss Price, I don’t have time to talk about it right now,” he said, all business. “I need to get to tutorial. Perhaps we could meet afterward to discuss it.” He had a smug smile on his face.

“Very clever,” I said softly.

“Why don’t we meet at the Hart House library, say at ten past two?” he suggested, maintaining his business-like tone.

Did I dare venture back in there with him?

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I whispered.

“It’s a fantastic idea. See you at ten after two, Miss Price.” He hauled his laptop bag up onto his shoulder and strode briskly past me, stopping at the door to turn and wink before continuing out into the hall.

I jammed the test into my bag and made my way over to Hart House. Daniel must have suspected I’d react this way. He’d been waiting for me to query my mark so he could suggest a meeting to discuss it, a meeting which wouldn’t make me feel as if I were breaking my promise to his father.

While Daniel was in his tutorial, I grabbed a bite and read over some sonnets. At two o’clock, I bought us each a coffee and went to the library. With the exception of a girl working at a table by the window and a guy snoring on a couch by the fireplace, the room was empty.

I opted to sit in a small niche which allowed students to slightly sequester themselves from other patrons. It was a lovely little nook with four narrow stained glass windows lining the west wall.

When I was settled into a chair at a corner of the table, almost completely hidden from view, I unpacked my test and my anthology. A few moments later, the door creaked. I peered around the wood panel wall, watching as Daniel scanned the library. He put one hand on his hip and ran his other hand through his hair.

“Pssst.”

He spun around and rolled his eyes, his hand over his heart.

“I thought you’d changed your mind,” he whispered, pulling a chair across the carpet to sit beside me.

“I considered it,” I said quietly, handing him his coffee.

He took a gulp and sighed. “God, that’s good. Thank you. So, did you really consider standing me up?” His eyes danced, and his hand rested near mine on the table.

“Briefly.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I’d forgotten about this little area. It’s surprisingly private, don’t you think?” He traced a line along the outside of my wrist with his index finger.

I closed my eyes. “Daniel, please don’t.”

“Oh, come on, Aubrey. No one can see.”

“Look, can you just put your TA hat on for a sec?”

“Well, I never thought I’d hear you say those words.” He clasped his hands in front of him and sat upright. “Okay, Miss Price. Fire away.”

I slid my test across the table. “I can’t believe you gave me a perfect score. Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I didn’t.”

I peered at the page. “That clearly says thirty out of thirty.”

“You’re right. It does. It’s Professor Brown’s writing.”

“I thought
you
marked these tests.”

“I did. Then he looked them over. He was displeased with my assessment of yours.”

I squinted at the crossed out mark. “So, you gave me twenty-eight?”

He nodded. “I was afraid to give you full credit. I read it a few times. I guess I nitpicked a little.”

“Wait, you
looked
for things to penalize me for? Jesus, Daniel! What the fuck?”

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “A minute ago you were upset because you thought I’d given you perfect, and now you’re pissed because I took two marks off? That smacks of ‘damned if I do and damned if I don’t,’ wouldn’t you say?”

He sat back in his chair, resting his hands on his thighs and shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I thought you’d have a hard time finding fault with my work, but now it sounds like you can’t bring yourself to give me perfect, even if I deserve it. That’s not fair.”

“Give me a fucking break,” he said in a heated whisper. “Don’t forget, this was my first time marking one of your assignments. All I could hear was my father’s voice chirping at me about
objectivity
. I’d appreciate it if you’d try to see it from my perspective.”

I rubbed my temples in frustration. Of course this was hard for him.

“You’re right. I’m being unreasonable.” I looked at the pained expression on his face. “I overreacted. Forgive me?”

He turned in his chair so that he was facing me, his hand seeking mine under the table. “Of course I forgive you. This is all so fucked up.” He laced our fingers together. I looked anxiously at the entrance to the room. “Aubrey, no one can see us. Let me hold your hand for a few minutes, please? We just had an argument. I need a make-up squeeze.”

I couldn’t help smiling. “A make-up squeeze?”

“Yes, right now, please.”

I clasped his hand tightly, and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

“Better?” I whispered.

“Not as effective as make-up sex against a bookshelf,” he said, tipping his chin at the wooden bookcases behind us. “But it’ll have to do for now.”

“Can we start again?” I asked.

“Do I have to put my TA hat back on? Because I’d really rather not.”

“Fine. But tell me what happened,” I said, gesturing to my test. “What did Professor Brown say?”

“He scared the living shit out of me. I thought I was going to have to defend giving you such a high mark, but then he told me it wasn’t high enough. He said my expectations were inflated and you deserved a perfect score. You’ve made a good impression on him over the years.”

“How did you explain yourself?”

“I grasped at straws. I told him I knew you and a few others in the class are in contention for dean’s list standings, and I was afraid I might be letting your reputation for doing well cloud my judgment, and that’s why I’d been particularly critical.”

“Did he believe you?”

“I think so. He spent fifteen minutes lecturing me about criterion-based assessment and achieved learning expectations. I had to nod and play dumb. Something good did come out of all this, though—something that’s put my mind at ease. My dad was happy to hear about it, too.”

“What’s that?” I took a sip of my coffee.

“Martin suggested students use ID numbers instead of names on the
Much Ado
paper, and he’s decided that instead of splitting up the exams into two piles, I’m going to mark the first part of everyone’s exam and he’ll mark the second part so he’ll be able to look them all over as he goes and make sure he agrees with my assessment. It’s like a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders.”

He pulled his hand from mine and reached down to rifle through his bag.

“Speaking of a weight on my shoulders, I’ve been carrying this around since this morning.” He placed a paperback copy of
Tipping the Velvet
on the table. “I picked it up before class. I should have given it to you earlier so you could have read it while you waited for me. It might’ve softened you up a bit. Maybe you wouldn’t have given me so much grief about your test.”

I rolled my eyes. “You think that was grief? You have no idea. Until you’ve watched my mom and dad argue, you have no concept of grief. And I’m warning you right now—I’m stubborn, sunshine. If that turns you off, you might want to cut your losses and make a speedy exit.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Aubrey, so there’s no point trying to frighten me away. And I happen to like it when you’re sassy.” He pushed the book forward. “Put this in your bag. I know you don’t have time for personal reading right now, but as soon as you do, read it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks. I’m excited to take a look at it, but you really need to stop spending money on me.”

He frowned. “Are you kidding? This is nothing. If I have to put up with your sass, then you have to learn to live with me spending money on you. I’d say it’s a fair trade.”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Daniel, but I can’t afford to get you anything right now, so it makes me feel bad.”

“All I want is a little of your time. Sitting here with you now, even a few minutes ago when you were pissed at me, it’s the best I’ve felt all week. To paraphrase a tired old cliché, sometimes the best things in life are free.”

“That’s just something rich people say to people who don’t have any money to try to make them feel better.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said something like that to me. Don’t be cynical. Sassy, I love. Cynical, not so much.”

His observations, while a little cutting, were probably accurate. I was allowing myself to feel contempt for “the other half” and disparaging him in the process.

“I guess you’re right. But if you truly believe that, then stop buying me things for the next thirty-one days. No gifts.”

“I can’t buy you anything for the rest of the semester?”

“Nope. No Louis Vuitton, no Holt Renfrew, no books. Nothing.”

He drew his eyebrows together. “I’m not a fan of that idea.”

“You don’t have to buy my affection, Daniel.”
Or my sexual favors
, I thought, remembering Julie’s comment from the day before.