The Heart of Andros

by Jade Oliver

  His cocky grin is back now that I seem to be okay and more aware.

  “And quit calling me love.” I try to sound stern but it comes out a squeak.

  He laughs at me again with an even bigger smile and commands, “Then tell me your name.”

  “Why? I don’t know you.”

  He leans against the couch and stares down at me, saying nonchalantly, “Why? Because we are dating, Jada.”

  Now I am really confused. Does he have a few screws loose? He may be a sexy, British Superman, but I won’t give him my name. Especially since he seems to think I am Jada and we are dating. “Excuse me, but why did you call me Jada, and what is this about us dating?”

  “Well, you refused to tell me your name, so I started calling you Jada. I always liked that name. As for the girlfriend part, I needed the crowd to back off.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “And they let you take me?” I know it’s an overreaction, but what the hell?

  He looks guilty again, but more of a shy little boy type of guilty. He’s not upset about what he’s about to tell me, but he knows he’s gotten caught. Although, in this case he told on himself.

  “Well, I needed something believable. I thought of my mate Tristan and his girl Leah, who is pregnant—”

  “You fucking told them I was pregnant?” I groan and drop my head in my hands. Why me?

  “Look, it’s not like any of them know you.”

  “How do you know that?” I mutter, unsure if he hears me.

  “Well, I doubt it anyway. I was helping and didn’t think you wanted to wake up outside with strangers surrounding you.” I look up at him with that statement, and nod, acknowledging he’s right. “Will you please tell me your name now, love?” he asks.

  I decide he’s right, even though he called me love again. There’s no reason not to tell him my name at this point. He obviously could’ve hurt me while I was sleeping, but he didn't. “It’s Adair. I need a moment to process everything, please,” I tell him with an exasperated sigh.

  As I take several deep breaths I feel myself start to relax, only to jump when the door squeaks open. I turn to see Dr. Goodfellow walk in and look at me perplexedly. Great. I am up shit creek without a paddle. I’m not going to get the internship spot now. All I had to do was arrive on time, answer any additional questions, and be told if I earned the spot over the other two finalists. I don't think the professor will look kindly on how I arrived passed out. The phrase “my life is a living hell” was meant for someone like me whose life decided to fall apart all at once.

  Someone clears their throat and I break out of my rabbit hole spiral. Not the time, Adair, not the time. My attention turns back to the professor, and I reply as if he asked me a question.

  “Yes, Professor Goodfellow.” By the look of condescension on his face, he didn’t buy my bullshit.

  “Ms. Stafford, I was concerned about you - well, let’s say your unique arrival. But Mr. Kent assures me that it was an unfortunate accident and that you are not sick.” Professor Goodfellow continues to talk but my attention is captured by Mr. Kent and the blush on his handsome face. He doesn’t smirk now, or look concerned about me, but he does look embarrassed. I wonder if he's embarrassed by the lie or that I know he lied for me. And when did he have time to talk to Dr. Goodfellow?

  “Ms. Stafford?” Dr. Goodfellow says and I turn my focus to the professor once again. “Ms. Stafford, I’m happy to inform you that you have been accepted into the program. You and Mr. Kent will travel together next week and stay in the research huts at the research institute on Andros Island. As previously discussed, the university provides all travel expenses, room accommodations, and a stipend for food and another for research equipment and supplies. The program is for twelve weeks and contingent on what information you discover about the colonists and their interactions with the Lucayan tribe as well as the impact each group had on one another. If the university decides that the information that you and Mr. Kent find is impactful and relevant, then it will send a team of researchers to the island for future study. Of course, as already discussed, you will be part of that team. Do you have any questions?” The professor sounds tired and slightly irritated.

  At first, I’m shocked. I’d known about the twelve-week period. The extended time for the internship is new, and I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. However, I want to clarify one glaring fact the professor skimmed over — the me and Mr. Kent part. He may be Clark, but I’m not his Lois Lane. It sounds like we are the only two people going. I was under the impression that it would be a team of five — the professor, his handpicked TA Mr. Johnson, two second year graduate students, and one first year graduate student, like myself.

  “Professor Goodfellow, what do you mean me and Mr. Kent? What about you and the others?” My nerves betray me and my voice cracks a little with the statement.

  “Ms. Strafford, I explained the lack of funding earlier when you apparently were not listening to me. Instead of wasting money on the initial exploration portion of the study, the university and this department felt it more appropriate to send just two people before funding a larger, more expensive trip. As department head, I chose who I wanted to go. I picked you and Mr. Johnson, but a last-minute family emergency came up and he can’t go. Mr. Kent is my new TA. He just transferred from England, specifically for the opportunity to participate in this study. He will replace Mr. Johnson and accompany you on this trip. Do you have a problem?” His tone suggests if I did I would lose the spot.

  So, I do the only thing I can do. “No, sir. I don’t.” What the hell did I just agree to?

  Three

  Later that evening …

  Adair

  I arrive at my apartment embarrassed, excited, and slightly apprehensive. Embarrassed because not only did the world see my clumsiness, but so did Professor G and Tobias. Excited because I got accepted into the program and we leave in one week. Apprehensive of Tobias’ close proximity for the next twelve weeks. He’s a swoon worthy charmer through and through, and I’m afraid of my uncharacteristic, sudden attraction for him. An attraction that could distract me. I’m sure he knows; I can’t seem to hide my reactions to him. But I have no time for a rebound hookup or to worry. I need to finalize my preparation for the trip.

  I’d decided it was best to be prepared even though I didn’t know if I would be accepted or not, but I’d been forewarned about the short timespan before we would leave. Since the university pays for airfare and the room on the island, I’m ready to head out once I finish packing. I have my passport, no job or car because of recent events, and I’ve sublet my apartment. When Brax and I had started to get serious, I got the arm implant. So, I don’t have to worry about birth control or feminine products since the hormones stopped my cycle.

  Not that birth control is an issue anymore. At least my period is gone. Small wins, Adair, small wins. There’s no one to tell that I’m about to leave since my parents don’t care and Brax left.

  After the last few weeks of hell, I’m ready to start a new chapter. I’m excited to study the Lucayan culture and immerse myself into academia. This is something I’ve worked hard to achieve for what seems like my entire life. My grandmother told me an incredible story of my ancestor descended from the Lucayan tribe. I was entranced. I started digging for information on the culture, eventually moving on to others but always coming back to the Lucayans. Now that I’m so close, nobody and nothing will stop me, even the month of hell or my first love breaking my heart.

  Stop procrastinating, Adair. Focus. Your stuff isn’t going to pack itself.

  Great. Talking to myself again. Thanks, subconscious.

  As I start to pack, the phone rings. Saved by the bell! Thank fuck. I really do hate to pack.

  When I look at my cell phone and see Tobias’ name, I’m not so sure if I’m saved or not. The man causes a mixture of emotions in me, most of which I don’t want to think about, and ignoring him and them seems to be key to my emotional su
rvival. But as my only contact for the study I must answer. My luck sucks these days.

  “Hello, Tobias. How can I help you?” I try not to sound bitchy because I’m not actually mad at him, but being irritated at oneself is complicated.

  “Adair, love. I was hoping we could have dinner and discuss the arrangements for the island. And didn’t I ask you to please not call me Tobias but Toby instead?” Damn his sexy British voice and damn my hormones for responding. Maybe I should invest in ear plugs so I only half hear what he says.

  “Tobias, you did ask me, but I’ve chosen to politely ignore you, for now. Yes, I’ll have dinner with you but only if it’s business only.” I try for a stern, less eager voice, but I am not sure I succeed when I hear him laugh.

  “Wonderful. I’ll pick you up at 6:15 tonight, just text me your address. Casual dress is fine. And we can discuss the name thing over dinner.” So cocky and arrogant thinking I will let him pick me up but kind of sweet too.

  “Tobias, this is a business meeting not a date. I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking for a rebound. I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Tell me the restaurant’s name and the time I need to arrive.” I hear him take a deep breath in frustration. I highly doubt anyone ever tells him no.

  Finally, he replies, “Reservations are at seven at a restaurant called Treno Ristorante. Have you heard of it?”

  “Yes. It is a quaint little restaurant and the staff is friendly.”

  “Fantastic! I’ve heard great things but have yet to try it. I’m glad I’ll have this first with you.” I hear him chuckle at himself, then wait for my reply.

  “Bye, Tobias.”

  He murmurs, “See you soon,” then hangs up.

  What the hell did I just get myself into?

  Even hours later my stomach feels like it’s been tied into knots. A feeling I’ve had since hanging up the phone with Tobias. We could’ve met at school to discuss the grant and impending research trip, but instead he has me meeting him for dinner tonight. How can I help but question his motives? The fact that I barely called him on it has me questioning mine.

  Ever since his arms were around my body, the press of his hard body into mine when I tried to get away, my traitorous mind remembers how warm, safe, and unbelievably hot it had felt. My mouth draws tight and my fists clench as a flash of annoyance runs through me for letting my thoughts go there.

  I arrive well before Tobias, grab a table, and wait. He tries to be first and walks in a full fifteen minutes early himself. His light powder blue eyes light up when he sees me at the table. Damn, I berate myself. You can’t possibly see his eyes that clearly from across the room. Yet, I know they are alight with a mischievous sparkle.

  This is business — only business. This is easy to think but much harder to tell my pounding heart as he comes closer. He sports jeans tight enough to show off his athletic legs but not so tight he looks like a hipster try-hard. The jeans appear soft from years of wear. A black tee shirt, with what I assume is a British band name, is emblazoned across the front stretched over what looks to be lean but shapely abs. His look is effortless. Hot.

  Tobias rakes his hand through his slightly too long sandy blond locks. They curl lightly and droop over his left eye. Someone needs a haircut. I can only describe his face as somewhat rugged but beautiful, especially hidden behind what looks like a three-day old beard, but the scruff suits him. I wonder what that would feel like against my skin.

  Just business. This is just business. I repeat to myself as I sip my water.

  Tobias sits and smiles his adorably crooked and very endearing smile. When our waitress approaches she shows her appreciation as she looks him over with excited bedroom eyes. Apparently he notices because he winks at me before giving her a sinful smile hot enough to make panties melt. I swear she swoons a little.

  The waitress blushes when she asks if we are ready to order. Toby orders a burger, fries, and a beer. “How very American of you.” I smirk at him and turn my attention back to the menu like it might magically change its options. With a sigh, I close my menu and order a Margherita pizza and glass of the house red wine. The wine might not be the best idea but it is well deserved after the day I’ve had.

  Throughout dinner, I realize Tobias is funny. So much funnier than I would have thought, and I’m enjoying the dinner more than I should. The pizza’s rich sauce and fresh mozzarella blends to perfection on my tongue causing a moan of appreciation to escape. I look up, noticing him staring at me.

  “What?” I ask with slight hesitation. I take a hearty sip of my wine.

  His eyes darken slightly as he leans in and whispers, “If that’s how you appreciate everything in your mouth, love, I’m not making it the duration of our adventure without finding out how it feels to put that look upon your face.”

  I sputter on the last of the liquid but manage to choke out, “What?”

  He starts to laugh and runs his hand through that infuriatingly sexy hair of his.

  Still flustered, I croak, “What was that now?”

  “Oh, I’m quite the cook, love. I thought to show you what a proper Brit like me could do with my hands and a few assistive tools,” he says with that damn chuckle still in his voice.

  Shocked and slightly embarrassed, I refuse to play anymore. I remind him what I’ve had to remind myself all night. “This is strictly business, Tobias. Tonight and on Andros.” Taking a deep breath, I set out to explain. “I told you earlier I just got out of a serious long-term relationship. The man, if you can call that coward that, well, quite frankly, left me without a word except a sorry note of a few lines after what I, and most, would consider a significant relationship. I’m nowhere near ready for anything else right now or any time in the foreseeable future.”

  He asks soberly, “I’m sorry, love. What a bloody sot. When did this happen?”

  I feel tears well in my eyes but refuse to let them drop. I see no reason not to tell him because we will be living and working next to each other for several months and its bound to come up at some point anyway. “This morning.”

  “Bloody hell! Why that…” Tobias looks livid. His face scrunches up and tinges red, a hard glint shines in his eyes, and the blue darkens as he speaks. “Love, he never should have left that way. He is a fool for leaving you at all. What can I do to help? I have been told I offer a good ear. I just want to be your friend. Afterall, we are going to be spending quite a bit of time together soon.”

  I enjoy funny Tobias, but I’m glad genuine, sweet Tobias is back. My broken heart flutters that someone cares about me so openly and with sincerity. He is the type I should have trusted my heart with not the secretive Brax. Business, Adair. Business.

  “How about we just discuss the research? I would rather not dwell on it.”

  He nods his assent and begins. “The Lucayan tribe has been studied on a limited basis, but no one has ever attempted to do what we are going to do. This facet of the Lucayans broke off and managed to survive 130 years without anyone’s knowledge.” His eyes glow with eagerness and fascination showing just how passionate he is about our research. I feel so much better about his intentions, not that he would set this whole thing up just for me, but dinner has gotten flirty. I watch him, mesmerized by his depth of knowledge.

  Eventually, I cut in. “I am most fascinated by the leadership role the women held and that they were a matriarchal society. I cannot wait to learn more about the structure and how the pirate and colonial men reacted once they discovered them.” I can hear my own passion and fascination coming through as I speak.

  As he drains the last bit of his third beer, his eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, love, they lived a polyandrous lifestyle. What one might compare to a harem but reversed because it was the woman getting all the men in her bed.”

  Oh lord, flirty Tobias is back. I blush yet again while he stares and it feels like he can see through me. This is feeling considerably more like a date and less a business research briefing again. I need to c
hange the subject quickly before I start blurting out some of my deep, dark fantasies — like being watched by one lover while another pleasures me. I shudder before I shake the idea from my mind. That fantasy came about courtesy of extensive research of cultures with atypical love lives, which now happens to be my specialty. I am not very experienced, yet the idea of having multiple men stirs me in ways other sexual fantasies never have.

  I drain my second glass of wine, pondering how to change the subject. “Do you think we’ll see a sharkapuss? How freaking scary cool would that be?” God, I wish I could snap a picture of his face right now.

  With a half laugh, half choke, he barely gets out, “Come again? A what, love?”

  I roll my eyes. “You know exactly what I mean. The Lusca. It’s only one of the biggest and creepiest mythical legends of the island.”

  He smiles that beautiful smile that makes me want to offer him things I am not prepared for. I grin at his boyish charms because levity has been restored.

  “I know, love. I’m quite the actor, eh? You have to loosen up a little. Not always take things so seriously. I can help you with that, you know.” Not prepared for how he might offer to loosen me up, I don’t answer but throw my napkin at him instead as I laugh. We carry on with conversation as dinner progresses. Tobias is very knowledgeable and also seems eager to find new evidence about the Lucayan tribe. My shoulders relax and my guard lowers. I feel better about agreeing to dinner and might have even slipped and called him Toby once or twice.

  At the end of dinner, Tobias excuses himself to the bathroom. Thank god because I need a moment to regain my bearings. While he’s away I quickly arrange for an uber. I just finish it when our waitress approaches with the check. She arrives and the disappointment at not seeing Tobias is obvious. I reach for the check and grab my card. How fortunate. Now he cannot fight me over who will pay.

  As I hand everything back to the waitress she asks, “Umm, so are you and he, I mean, umm, is he— Is that your boyfriend? If not, do you think he’d mind if I left my number?” She ends her little girl ramble with the most annoying giggle.