We Were Here: A New Adult Romance Prequel to Geoducks Are for Lovers (Modern Love Stories Book 1)

by Daisy Prescott

  I strolled in the other direction. “See you in class next week,” I called out, not turning around. Not waiting to see what he did with the paper.

  “So Alive” ~ Love and Rockets

  NOT THE KIND of girl to sit home and wait for the phone to ring, I dragged Lizzy and Maggie out to a party that weekend. At the party, I ran into Ben from last quarter again. We’d gotten together a few times, but never clicked. Despite him being at this ultra laid back college, he was way too uptight for me. Plus, he wore a tie. A lot.

  Unlike Jason Vincent, who never wore a tie, preferring instead to roll up the sleeves of his button-down shirts above his elbows. For a science geek, he had amazing forearms. Maybe he played racket ball or squash or something. He didn’t seem the type for tennis.

  “Selah?” Ben’s expression told me he was waiting for an answer to a question I hadn’t heard.

  “Sorry, couldn’t hear you over the music.” The CD had stopped and my voice sounded too loud for the room.

  Cocking his head to the side, he raised a single eyebrow. “I asked if you wanted to go check out a bar downtown. Rumor has it they rarely card, and if there is a bouncer, you slip him a five to get in on the weekends.”

  A quick glance around the room confirmed the party had faded. Most people were gone, with the exception of my friends sitting around the kitchen table and a couple making out in a recliner.

  “Sure.” I clapped my hands to get everyone’s attention. “Guys? Let’s blow this football team’s popsicles and go check out a bar.”

  “I don’t think that’s the expression, Selah,” Quinn shouted back. “Although I like the phallic imagery you inserted there. Nice touch.”

  “Thank you. Ben, you know everyone? Everyone, this is Ben.”

  Gil and Quinn said their hellos with guy nods and a mutual “hey.”

  Our little band of misfits piled into Ben’s car, with Lizzy lying across the three of us in the backseat.

  Up front, Gil checked out Ben’s cases of tapes and CDs.

  “You’re really into hip hop. NWA, Public Enemy, Run DMC, and Naughty by Nature? Seriously?” Gil held up a tape. “No kidding.” He popped the last one into the player and hit fast forward.

  LL Cool J’s “Goin Back to Cali” blasted from the Audi’s speakers.

  Yes, Ben drove an Audi sedan.

  I wondered what kind of car Jason drove. Probably something not so yuppie.

  Ben had been right about the bar. No bouncer and the bartender, while gruff and snarly, didn’t card us either. Staring at us blankly, he waited for our orders.

  The decor of The Four Leaf Clover combined all the charm of a Irish family pub and the seventies style of the Brady Bunch with lots of dark wood, avocado green booths and orange vinyl chair cushions.

  “Pitcher of beer?” Ben asked the group. “Or do you want cocktails?”

  “Vodka and something for me.” I’d had my fill of beer at the party. I scanned the room for a table for the six of us. A group of men chugged the last of their beers, slammed the glasses on the table, and uttered a guttural shout. I didn’t recognize any of the huge burly guys in construction boots. They definitely weren’t college students.

  A corner booth in the front opened up. It would be tight, but we could fit. Bonus, it sat next to an old fashioned jukebox—the kind with actual 45 records and a turntable inside. I stood in front of it, pushing the buttons to peruse the selection of classic rock and country singles. A few eighties hits were scattered through the catalog, among them Whitney Houston, Bon Jovi, The Police, and strangely enough, Soft Cell.

  “Ooh, play ‘Tainted Love.’” Quinn excitedly jabbed at the glass.

  “I don’t have any quarters,” I complained. I’d left for the night with my standard going out kit: room key, ID and a twenty-dollar bill in case I needed a taxi.

  “Quarters! For the love of British Boys, we need quarters!” He held out his hand in the direction of our booth.

  Returning with enough change for hours of music, he took over the selection process. Eclectic didn’t begin to cover it. Dolly Parton’s “Nine to Five” followed Soft Cell. Gil and Ben both groaned. Maggie and Lizzy strangely knew all the words and danced along to the song while remaining seated. Sitting next to them, I silently judged their taste in music.

  Ben rested his hand on my knee. He was nice enough, but nothing would be happening again. I excused myself for the bathroom. Luckily he didn’t take it as a subtle invitation to make out in a stall and follow me.

  Even luckier for me, on the way back through the bar I spied a certain professor sitting at a table for two with a man I didn’t recognize. Jason stared at me, watching me make my way toward his table.

  “Miss Elmore.”

  Great. Despite most definitely being outside of class and off campus, he’d reverted to formal names.

  “Mr. Vincent.”

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” He ignored introductions to his friend.

  “I could say the same. I didn’t realize you lived in Olympia.”

  “I don’t.”

  Geez, this conversation couldn’t be more boring. Maybe his companion was friendly. I stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Selah, one of Mr. Vincent’s students at Evergreen.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I’m Kevin.” If someone could be described as beige, he was that person. Nothing remarkable about him except how unremarkable he looked. “Are you taking Jason’s sex class?”

  Thankfully, I remained composed enough not to swallow my tongue. “Is that how he’s describing it? Professor?” I held my gaze steady on Jason’s face. I swore I saw his cheeks color with pink.

  “Kevin.” His voice lowered, stern and threatening.

  Kevin’s grin told me he enjoyed teasing Jason. They must have been old friends. “Fine, are you in Professor Vincent’s biology class?”

  “I am. I’m hoping for an A.”

  Kevin’s clever eyes swept over me. “What year are you?”

  “First.”

  Jason groaned while Kevin nodded and asked, “Tell me, Selah, has anyone ever called you Lolita before?”

  Now my own cheeks heated. My skirt suddenly felt too short—the gap between it and my boots exposing a lot of fishnet covered skin. Or it could have been my short pigtails. I realized all I needed was a lollipop.

  “Can’t say it’s happened before, Kevin.”

  Clearly, Kevin knew my game. Or maybe Jason’s. I’d never thought he could be the type to seduce his students. As far as I knew, this class was his first teaching job.

  “How did you get in here?” Jason changed the subject. “Fake ID?”

  Busted. “No one carded us.”

  “Doesn’t make you legal.”

  “Are you going to call the police? Have us arrested and handcuffed?” It might have been the vodka, but I decided to be bold and push him. “Are you into handcuffs, Professor?”

  Jason choked on his beer, coughing to clear his throat.

  After making sure his friend wasn’t dying, Kevin laughed. “This is more entertaining than I imagined a college dive bar could be.”

  I focused my attention on the non-choking friend. “What brings you to Olympia, Kevin?”

  “I’m in politics.”

  Jason found his voice again. “He’s an assistant to an assistant to a state senator.”

  “Then you know all about impropriety.” I gave him a sweet smile.

  “It’s been a political tradition since the Founding Fathers.” Kevin raised his glass. “I like you. Care to join us?”

  Jason set his beer on the table. “I can’t be seen drinking with students. Kevin, shut up.” He pointed at me. “You return to your booth and your friends, and we’ll pretend we never ran into each other.”

  “Yes, sir.” I saluted him. “Can I ask one question first?”

  “If he doesn’t answer, I will.” Kevin gave me a wicked grin like a wolf in beige clothing.

  “Stop.” He directed the word at Kevin, not me. “O
ne question only.”

  “How old are you anyway?” It didn’t matter to me, but he appeared young, not much older than us.

  “He’s twenty-six,” Kevin answered for him.

  I nodded. Seven years. Nothing overly scandalous.

  “That’s it?” Jason asked. He attempted to remain stern, but the corners of his eyes crinkled, betraying his amusement.

  I smiled at him. “All set. Thanks.”

  I turned away, not looking back as I returned to my friends. I pretended not to see them when they walked by our table on their way out.

  “Bye, Lolita.” Kevin waved at me before the door closed behind them.

  “Lolita?” Maggie asked. “Wasn’t that Driscoll’s sub?” She swiveled in the booth, craning her neck to see out the window.

  “It was.”

  “What did he mean by Lolita?” Quinn elbowed me.

  “Nothing. It rhymes with Selah.”

  “It does?” Lizzy tilted her head in thought. “Lolita. Selah. It’s not even the same number of syllables.”

  “He’s a terrible poet.” To myself I noted he made up for a lack of rhyming skills with amazing forearms and his super smart science brain.

  “The Tide is High” ~ Blondie

  TUESDAY’S BIOLOGY LIMERICK mentioned Lolita.

  I tripped over my feet when I read it on the whiteboard, catching myself at the last moment before I smashed my face into a desk. Maggie picked up my bag from the floor.

  “I wondered about today’s limerick.” She sipped a big cup of tea, nonchalant and seemingly disinterested.

  “It’s probably a coincidence. Or one of Driscoll’s.” I plopped down in the seat next to her.

  Her voice repeated the words out loud:

  “There once was a girl from Alameda,

  Whose friends all called her Lolita.

  Ever since puberty

  She teased men with cruelty

  Discovering her charms she’d shouted, eureka!”

  “I can read it myself. Thank you very much.” I slouched farther down in my chair, hoping to make myself invisible for the duration of class. I grew up near Alameda, but Maggie knew that. There was no way Jason could.

  Jason flipped on the slide projector at the back of the room. “We’re going to discuss puberty today. I have slides. I know how exciting this is, but please try to remain awake. Miss Elmore, can you please dim the lights?”

  I twisted to see him. He waved me toward the door.

  With a small huff, I extracted myself from my slouch and dimmed the lights.

  The projector’s fan hummed as he clicked the first slide. Droning on about the pituitary gland, he wandered up the aisle closest to Maggie and me.

  “Hormones begin to take over at the approach of menses in girls.”

  Menses. Not even sexy Jason Vincent could make the word hot. He paused next to my chair at the end of our row. A crumpled piece of paper fell to the ground, but he kept walking. In the dark, I don’t think anyone else noticed. Maggie focused on taking notes.

  I kicked the note under my feet and brushed my pen off the desk, accidentally of course. Picking up the paper along with my pen, I tucked the ball into my bag.

  The class dragged on forever. I wanted to create a drinking game over the word gland. Everyone would’ve been drunk by the end of class

  Jason flipped on the lights, blinding us all. “Quiz on Thursday. Be sure to review the section on the role of the pituitary gland (drink). Yes, that’s a hint.”

  While Maggie put away her notebook, I pulled out Jason’s note. His drop move was about as smooth as a high school student.

  “Come to office hours today. 4:00 p.m. Sharp.”

  Delightfully bossy.

  I liked it . . . I disliked I liked it. What would my women’s studies professor have to say about all of this? She’d probably have made me burn my bra and stop shaving my armpits. Or write a letter of apology to Gloria Steinem herself. I’d heard a rumor they had been friends back at Smith.

  Never had I ever been excited for office hours before. I wasted the afternoon lost in fantasies of him locking his door and doing naughty things to me. My still life in drawing class included a big phallic shape in the center, despite no bananas in the bowl of fruit.

  At promptly four o’clock I stood outside Dr. Driscoll’s office. Quiet echoed in the hallway and the rest of the doors were closed. I lifted my hand to knock, but the door swung open before my knuckles made contact with the door.

  Jason pulled me into the room by my wrist and closed the door behind me.

  I didn’t hear the click of the lock. Too bad.

  “So, Professor Vincent, you wanted to see me?” I felt breathless and dizzy.

  “I think we’re beyond the professor formality.” His gruff voice scraped along my skin like sandpaper. Everything felt too much all at once.

  Tall shelves lined three of the walls, books and files formed precarious stacks on the crowded desk and one of the chairs, leaving only one place to sit. I stood still, toying with a loose thread on my bag’s strap. My bravado faded away as realization swarmed over me.

  Jason Vincent wasn’t any other cute guy, a slightly older cute guy. He really was a professor and an authority figure. He could fail me and throw off my GPA. Although, I wasn’t even sure how a fail in a pass/fail class would affect my transcript.

  He brushed past me in the cramped room and flopped in his chair, sending it into a slow spin. “You asked about private tutoring last week.”

  I nodded.

  “You don’t really need extra help in this class, do you?”

  I shook my head.

  He ducked his chin and spun the chair to stare out the window. Outside, rain pelted the glass, washing the room in shadows.

  I cleared my dry throat. “Was the limerick about me?”

  He nodded.

  “Why?”

  With his fingers intertwined behind his head, he faced me again. “Because you’re driving me crazy. Kevin’s nickname for you is perfect.”

  “I’m hardly twelve.” I felt like a kid in the principal’s office. “And you aren’t a dirty old married man. Wait, you aren’t married, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  “Girlfriend?”

  “Not at the moment, no.”

  I exhaled with relief.

  “But I can’t go out with you, Selah.”

  “Why not?”

  “The whole faculty student thing?”

  “You’re not even a real professor.”

  He flinched.

  “Sorry. I mean, you’re almost a doctor, but you aren’t a professor here. What does it matter?”

  “I need this class as a future reference for my CV.”

  I stared at him.

  “Curriculum vitae?”

  “You should speak Latin more often.”

  “Thank you, but that’s not the point.”

  “I’m not going to go around broadcasting anything. I can be discreet.”

  His gaze lowered to my outfit. “Hmm . . .” He let his eyes scan down my legs to my boots. “To clarify, this outfit wasn’t in reference to our conversation at the bar?”

  I looked down. Okay, the low V-neck of my T-shirt showed off a lot of boob, and maybe the length of my skirt wouldn’t pass inspection at a Catholic school even though it was plaid.

  “Probably not the best outfit for this conversation, is it?”

  Again he shook his head no, but this time, his lips lifted in amusement. “It’s more than a little naughty school girl.”

  “I’m not looking to be deflowered. The HMS Virginity sailed ages ago. Nor am I looking for a boyfriend. The whole going steady business isn’t really my thing.” I needed to stop talking and oversharing about things he probably wasn’t interested in hearing.

  He ran his finger over his lips, contemplating me like he studied a strange animal out in the wild. “What is your thing, Miss Elmore?”
<
br />   “I thought we were beyond the whole last name thing.” I mimicked his earlier words.

  “Fine, Selah. Better?” He shifted in his chair, resting his ankle on the other knee.

  I’d never had a guy be this direct with me. Usually we played the game of not interested unless the other person indicated they were interested. Or the other game of I like hanging out with you, but we’re just friends. Friends who have sex. Never had a boy, or in this case a man, asked me what I wanted like I had some control over the situation.

  Yes, I instigated this, but I didn’t think my flirting would lead anywhere. Yet here we were in a dimly lit office, with the door closed.

  “Cat got your tongue?” he whispered. The energy in the room shifted.

  “I hadn’t really thought all this through.”

  “Did you have a plan?”

  “No. Not really.” My entire plan had consisted of three words: seduce Jason Vincent.

  “Maybe if we met under different circumstances. And you weren’t my student.”

  “That’s a no then?”

  “I’m afraid so. Listen, it’s not a judgment on your looks. Or intelligence. Nor do I think any less of you.”

  I stared at a ceiling tile in the corner and counted to five before exhaling. “Okay, got it.”

  “You’re doing fine in the class. As far as I’m concerned, you’ll pass with no problem. In fact, you seem to have a knack for this subject.”

  “You’re not going to fail me?”

  He blinked up at me. “No.”

  “You think I have a knack for biology?” I’d never done well in a science class in high school. Numbers and calculations always made me want to pull out my hair.

  “No, I suspect you have a knack for the sexuality part.”

  I snickered.

  “Am I wrong?” His hands returned to the back of head, his biceps curving out to tighten his pale blue oxford distracted me.

  “I’d say your hypothesis is correct.”

  “Thought so. If I’m being honest with you, I’m flattered.”

  “To be put in the awkward position of having a student try to seduce you?”

  “Not the awkward part as much as my ego thanks you. Biology geeks who spend all their time in the lab and with their noses stuck in books aren’t usually the guys girls fall over themselves for.”