by Sarra Cannon
Matthew made room for Caleb. “Hallie, this is Derek and Caleb. Derek’s working on his MFA in Acting, and Caleb’s in psych. And sorry - I didn’t expect them to ambush us.” He gave Derek a pointed look, and Derek grinned. “This is Hallie,” he continued. “We met today through the Belleyre project.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Hallie,” Caleb said. He was calm, but Matthew could sense his focus as he looked at her. He was trying to get a read on her, so Matthew did the only thing he could think of—he kicked him under the table.
“Stop it,” he hissed. Caleb raised an eyebrow as he turned his clear grey eyes on Matthew, who avoided his gaze.
“Same to you,” Hallie replied, and shook Derek’s outstretched hand. Derek, with his dark wavy hair, brilliant green eyes, and Australian accent was, by all accounts, “a major fox”—so Matthew wasn’t surprised when Derek held onto her hand and bestowed his lead-role-winning smile on Hallie. He was, however, deeply annoyed at the way her cheeks flushed pink.
“Why were you looking for me?” he asked briskly.
“We came to see if you wanted to go to the Library with us tonight. Should be fun - drinks and dancing and girls.” He turned to Hallie. “Of course, we didn’t know he already had a girl, love.”
“Oh, that’s not—”
“You should come, too!” he said, slinging his arm behind her, over the booth.
Hallie shook her head. “I really don’t think so…”
But as she shook her head, her hair fell in front of her ear, and Matthew imagined how it would feel to brush it back over her ear, to press her close to his chest and feel her soft little shivers and sighs as she moved with the music.
“I’d love to take you,” he told her, on impulse. He ignored Derek, who was watching him with a mischievous half-grin. “It might be fun… a good way to get your mind off all of the crappy meetings you’ve had today, right? I promise we’ll bail as soon as it gets lame.”
Hallie stared down at her half eaten burger and soggy fries. He thought he saw the hint of a smile tugging at her lips, and his heart lifted.
Derek tapped her on the head. “What do you say? Will you join us?”
Chapter 6
Abingford, everyone agreed, was everything a small town should be. Beautiful and picturesque in all seasons, unwaveringly friendly, and utterly charming. And for a small southern town, it was remarkably eclectic, due in part to the neighboring university crowd it catered to. It had a rich history, from the Belleyre mystery to its role as a camp for a small group of Confederates near the end of the war. The Old Grande Playhouse, which today hosted both university and traveling productions, had been, at one time, a hospital that provided care for fallen men from both the Union and Confederate armies.
The Library, Abingford’s oldest dance club, was no exception. Constructed, literally, as the town’s first circulating library, the walls were still lined with shelves of books. In recent years, the opening of Club Limber, with its modern new sound system and the cheap beer that attracted the undergrads, had turned the Library into the grungy haunt of tired graduate students. They served coffee and free wifi in the day, wine and whiskey at night, and brought live music in on the weekends.
The only reason Hallie knew any of this was because Dani had dragged her here, not that long ago, to spy on the Biology TA Dani had a crush on. Hallie had spent the whole night waiting around aimlessly as Dani flirted. Eventually she started chatting with the TA’s friend Chad, who was short and funny, sort of cute, and who worked in the same lab as Hallie’s microbiology professor. They’d returned a couple of times, and each time Hallie had spent the evenings talking with him until Dani grew bored of her TA and they stopped meeting. Returning to the Library hadn’t exactly been on her list of things to do, but she couldn’t deny it: she wanted more time with Matthew.
Talking to him about Dani and Louisa had been so… easy. She didn’t understand why, but it was like they’d known each other for a long time, and they’d talked like old friends catching up. He’d asked all the right questions, fallen silent when she needed it, and didn’t pry. And there was that little jolt of electricity she felt every time he touched her, no matter how innocently. She didn’t know what he saw in her, in her unruly brown hair, plain, plain face, and messy clothes, but she didn’t have the heart to question it yet. Most of the time, she considered her unassuming appearance a strength—she liked being no-nonsense, nonthreatening—but trying to have a successful date was not one of those times.
Now, he walked beside her, trailing a little behind Caleb and Derek as they followed a herd of students into The Library. Once they’d cleared the entrance, they found Caleb and Derek at a tall bar table in the back, having charmed a couple of girls into freeing seats for them. The girls were leggy, blonde, and beautiful, wearing short sweater dresses over opaque tights. They reminded her of Dani. Hallie, who was wearing blue jeans, boots, and a peasant blouse, felt suddenly clunky, inelegant, and self-conscious. Needing a drink, she whirled around and abruptly bumped into Matthew’s chest. He caught her by the shoulders.
“Drinks,” she said breathlessly, and he nodded.
“Lead the way.”
After two glasses of wine, though, Hallie’s nerves were mostly gone—she felt warm and pliable and content. She sat with Matthew at their corner table, watching Caleb and Derek grinding on one of the leggy blondes. The other had gotten sick some time in the last hour and kept going to the bathroom. The band was good, playing a mix of rock and pop covers, all immensely danceable—and loud enough that she didn’t have to talk, but could if she wanted to.
Hallie downed the last of her second glass and turned to Matthew, whose expression of enigmatic amusement made her want to kiss him.
“Hey. Hey, I have a question,” she said loudly, trying to overcome the sound of the lead singer hitting a high note.
“Fire away.”
“What are you doing?”
“Excuse me?”
“Look at you. I mean—” she pressed her palm to the sticky table and leaned across it, squinting at his deep blue eyes, his long eyelashes, the little crinkles at the corners that made him look both kind and intelligent. “I mean look at you.”
He laughed.
“Really. You could be anywhere else right now. You could be dancing right now. What are you doing sitting here with me? I’m a hot mess and I intend to stay that way for a while, if I’m being totally honest.”
His smile faded. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“Why not?”
“You make me smile.”
“I know some girls who could do more than make you smile,” she said, giving a pointed look at the leggy blonde, who was twerking, albeit off the beat and with great effort. Matthew snorted.
“You’re not wrong,” he said. “You’re right about something else, too.”
“What’s that?”
He stood up. “Just that I could be dancing right now,” he said, nonchalantly. Then he held out his hand.
“Oh, no way, not a chance—”
But Matthew took her hands and dragged her off the chair, bringing his lips close to her ear.
“I’m a patient man, Hallie. But I brought you here to dance with you. I intend to do just that.”
Her whole face flamed. The song had morphed from twerk-city to intimate, slow, and romantic. Of course.
“All right, but get ready for your reconstructive toe surgery, Roanoke,” she said, still blushing. He merely shook his head.
When they were finally on the dance floor, she realized she’d left all of her drunken bravado at the table. She’d never slow-danced with a guy before, having missed the whole awkward, middle-school-dance stage. With butterflies - or maybe bats, since they flew more erratically—thumping their wings in her stomach, she placed her hands tentatively on his shoulders and waited for him to do something. He just stared.
“Um. Are we…?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“
I mean, we don’t have to—”
But she fell silent at the warning look he gave her. Then he lifted her right hand gently from his shoulder, and held it out to the side, level with his chest. Oh. He slid his other hand around her waist and pressed his palm firmly against the small of her back, which did wild nervous things to her stomach. She tried to suck in her belly and straighten her posture as he drew her closer. Wait, where had the music gone? She felt dizzy with the scent of his skin, which was warm and clean and made her think of being outdoors. She stared at his chest, breathing hard, trying to forget the way his whole solid, lean, powerful body felt close, so close, trying to ignore the desire she had to feel his hands running over her skin, drawing her out of her awkward, clumsy body…
His palm shifted as he began to rub, gently, back and forth, over the small of her back. She felt rooted to the spot, as though every nerve ending in her body was concentrated in the skin beneath his hand.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“I can’t…” She swallowed, her throat swollen and dry. “Not like this.”
He took another small step towards her, brushing his hips against hers. He lowered his lips to her ear. “Sure you can,” he whispered, the vibration of his voice sending goosebumps down her neck. His breath swept gently against her ear…. And then his lips followed.
He kissed her lightly, just barely brushing his lips against the curve of her ear. Then he trailed his lips lower, tenderly teasing the slope of her neck until she shivered. The jolt of warm, ticklish pleasure from his lips wrenched the smallest whimper from her chest, sent flutters through her belly—and somehow, released her from her nerves. She wanted more. Wanted to feel what he could do to her, how he could make her lose control.
Slowly, he began to move them in time with the music, forward and back, matching the languid, sultry rhythm of the song. Hallie did her best to keep up, first trying to focus on their feet and then realizing that doing so only made her more clumsy. She tried looking at him instead, and it wasn’t long before their stumbling rhythm evened, then synced. And just like that, she was dancing. Closing her eyes, she let the music wash over her, let his steady hands and rhythmic touch lead her around the dance floor.
When the song ended, the beaming smile he gave her was enough to buoy any girl’s pride and melt her resolve, and that was how he managed to keep her out there for another half hour, the both of them sweating and spinning and jumping and rubbing against each other. She felt wild, carefree, as though her heart had shed about fifty pounds of pure baggage.All those times she’d gone out with Dani, she’d never felt like this—like it didn’t matter how dorky and weird she looked because she was having fun. In her mind there’d always been a little voice telling her no, this isn’t for you. You’re the serious one. The responsible one. The worrisome one. The awkward one.
With Matthew, all of that fell away, so all that was left was just… her. Somehow, he made awkward and weird feel easy and perfect.
Finally, when a particularly loud and repetitive French rock song ended, Hallie leaned against Matthew, panting and laughing. “I’ve got to get something to drink.”
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. His neck shone with sweat. “Me too.”
Derek, who was on their left and had found a new dance partner, tapped her on the shoulder. “If you make your way to the ladies’ room, can you check on Elizabeth, love? It’s been a while since we’ve seen her.”
“Sure, no problem.”
She made her way to the bathroom, tipsy from cocktails and Matthew’s unforgettable touch, when the sight of Chad and the TA stopped her in her tracks. That prickling feeling of anxiety began to creep down her neck again, and her spine stiffened. All of the things she’d forgotten in the last hour came crashing down around her. The room swayed. The last thing she wanted right now was a conversation with Chad, or about Dani. She glanced around, trying to strategize a way to the bathroom that didn’t involve passing them. Of course, there wasn’t one.
With a deep breath, Hallie ducked her head and hurried past them, rounding the corner to the bathrooms—and came up short. She had turned too soon and wound up facing a dead-end that was lined with more bookshelves and led only to the kitchen. Just as she’d feared, their voices trailed after her.
“Hey, isn’t that that girl who used to come in here to see you?” Hallie leaned her forehead against the nearest shelf and tried to steady her breathing.
“Ha, yeah. Talk about awkward.”
“Wasn’t she friends with that student Preston slept with? The hot one?”
A smattering of laughter.
“Yeah. I was supposed to babysit her that one time, while Preston nailed the girl. But after that first night, they both kept coming back.”
“Aww, you had yourself a little puppy following you.”
Chad snorted. “As usual. Preston gets the hot one, and I get—”
Hallie sucked in a breath.
“—the chubby sidekick.”
Ouch.
Ears burning, Hallie stepped back into the bar area, pulled out her phone and hurried past them, pretending to send a text message.
She didn’t stop to find out if they’d seen her. Their laughter was enough. Her heart pounded in her throat. As she made her way through the crowd of dancers, seeking out Matthew, she couldn’t help but remember the drunken, whiny questions she’d asked him earlier. What are you doing? Why are you sitting here with me? God, she was beyond pathetic. And then their display on the dance floor… the way she nearly collapsed when he basically just kissed her neck. Yeah, he must be getting a real kick out of her. She had made a fool of herself in front of him again and again… more times than she cared to count.
She’d always known that growing up the way she did, on the road in the back of a VW bus, was bound to make her different. Oblivious to the social cues everyone took for granted. But she’d never expected to misstep so horribly. She’d thought Chad was nice - not her type at all… but nice. Clearly, her judgment couldn’t be trusted.
She found Matthew at their table, taking a drink of club soda. He brightened when he saw her.
“Ready to go back out there?” He grasped her hips and tugged her close, but she pushed him away.
“Actually, I was thinking I’d head home.”
His face fell. “Is everything okay? Are you sick?”
“I’m fine, I just… I think I’ve had enough of today.”
He tugged his coat off the back of his chair. “Let me walk you home.”
“No, that’s okay. I can walk myself. I really had a nice time today, and it was nice hanging out with you. Thank you again for everything. It was really…”
“Nice? Yeah. Hallie, what’s wrong with you?”
But she was done. With him, with them, with Dani’s bullshit, with everything. All she wanted was to go home and bury herself in her books. Maybe not microbiology, but still. She was tired of being a burden on everyone around her, and she couldn’t just stand around and wait for Matthew to get tired of her, too. She wouldn’t be that stupid again.
“Please, Hallie, I can’t let you—” He reached for her wrist, and her stomach still fluttered and danced at the sensation of his skin on hers. Her frustration spiked.
“Yes, you can,” she snapped. “You can ‘let me’ because I don’t need you.”
He let go of her wrist as though she’d burned him.
“I know you don’t,” he said softly. “I know that.”
Caleb approached them. “Is everything all right?”
“I was just leaving. Everything’s fine.”
And with that she tugged her book bag out from under the table, flung it on her shoulder and pushed her way toward the exit, willing herself not to look back and see the anxious, wounded look she’d left on Matthew’s face.
Chapter 7
Hallie groaned as she hauled her book bag into her apartment, dropped it onto her frayed purple couch, and sank down after it. Her bones ache
d, partly from the weight of her bag and partly from lack of sleep. She curled onto her side, shifting the lumps in her bag to use it as a pillow.
Hallie had spent the last week buried in textbooks. She made up three biology labs, an oral exam in Spanish, and an essay on South African political parties. She attended a statistics study group and did some background reading for the Belleyre project. She heard from the Boston hospital that Dani had come through another surgery with flying colors, but would remain in the coma for the foreseeable future.
She did not, however, hear from Matthew.
Not that she was expecting it, after the way she'd left him. But they were supposed to meet to strategize about access to the Belleyre House, and by the following Friday, she was starting to worry that she'd jeopardized her role in the whole project by proving herself thoroughly neurotic.
She couldn't keep herself from going over and over the day in her mind, from the moment they'd met at the research meeting, when his words of comfort had been both a balm and a pinprick to her heart; to their conversation at Cherrie's, when he'd been so patient and solemn; to their connection at the Library, when she had lost herself so thoroughly in him.
His jacket hung on the back of one of her kitchen chairs, and without thinking, she got up to retrieve it, then returned to the couch, draping it over her shoulders as she lay down again.
Her phone rang—it was Carla, the eager girl from the Belleyre meeting.
"Hey, Hallie, how's it going?"
She hesitated. “All right… What’s going on?”
“A few of us from the Belleyre project were headed out for the night and wanted to see if you wanted to join us? I think it’ll be me, Leslie, Jake, Matthew, and a few other friends.”
Hallie’s stomach did a fluttery kind of somersault. “Yeah, sure,” she said. “Sounds fun. Where are you going?”
“The Library, have you ever been there? It’s a club.”
“I’ve heard of it,” Hallie said, her stomach sinking. Even if she wanted to see Matthew, the last place she wanted to do so was in the same place she’d dumped him.