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

by Daisy Prescott

  “Fine.” I read the note. All six words of it. “That’s it?”

  “He insisted it was important and you’d know why.”

  I reread the sentence.

  Then crumpled up the paper and threw it away.

  The boy whose name I didn’t want to hear sat outside my door after classes on Thursday. I spun on my heel to head back down the stairs.

  “Jo!”

  I kept walking. I didn’t need him or his sweet words.

  “I know you saw me. Don’t run away.”

  “I’m not running.” I sped up into a jog. Although I’d thrown away his note, Ben’s words had haunted me for four days.

  Now he called my name and literally chased me. I raced down the stairs, aiming to hide out in the laundry room in the basement.

  His sneakers slapped the stair runners as he followed me. Bracing his hands on the railing, he jumped down the last flight. He landed a few feet away from me with a loud thud.

  “Ouch!” Another thud followed as he crumpled to the ground. “Shit. I think I broke my foot.”

  I stopped. I wasn’t heartless.

  “Are you okay?” I slowly moved toward him, cautiously, like I was approaching an injured animal.

  He held his foot, rocking back and forth. “I’m not okay. Not even close to okay.”

  “Do you need to go to the ER?” I had no idea where to find the nearest hospital, but he hurt himself chasing me. I felt responsible “I’ll take you. Can you stand?”

  He extended and bent his left leg before bracing his weight on the other foot. With a hop, he stood up. Tenderly balancing his left foot, he winced. “I’ll be okay.”

  I shot him a doubtful look. “Try walking.”

  He took a step with his good foot and then did a weird kick-ball-change move when he stepped with his left.

  “Nice dancing. Now try again.” I crossed my arms.

  This time he managed to take two steps. I could see the effort not to wince in his eyes and the way he appeared to be biting the inside of his cheek. Or his tongue.

  “Where’s your car parked?” He could say he would be fine all he wanted, but he needed an X-ray.

  “In the lot behind this building.” He stood on one leg, resting the toe of his other shoe on the linoleum floor.

  “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” I ran up the first flight of stairs.

  “Jo?”

  I paused and faced him.

  “You’ll need these.” He tossed me his keys.

  “Oh, right.” Duh. I mentally slapped myself. “I’ll be right back.”

  Luckily I knew how to drive a stick. His Audi had faux wood details and lots of beige leather. I felt like I was driving someone’s parent’s sedan.

  We arrived at the local ER, sat in two uncomfortable chairs, and the wait began. Given Ben wasn’t bleeding from the head or imminently dying, he wasn’t a priority.

  “Is it swollen?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not too bad.”

  “You should elevate it.” I patted my legs. “Here, rest your foot across my lap.”

  “If you’re sure.” He paused, uncertain. No more cocky arrogance.

  “Come on.”

  He lifted his leg and I placed his foot on my thigh.

  Other than when he wrapped his arm over my shoulder on the way from the dorm to the car, this was the second time we’d ever deliberately touched. Halloween didn’t count. I wondered if he felt the connection as acutely as I did.

  “Now you’re pinned down, can we talk?” He pressed his leg against mine.

  I raised a shoulder, but didn’t speak.

  “I’ll take your silence as acquiescence.” He shifted to see my face.

  I braced myself for his words. I could remain distanced. His words didn’t have to have any power over me unless I let them.

  “I’m sorry.” He held my gaze, giving me a shy smile.

  “You’ve said that already.”

  “I’ll keep saying it until you accept my apology.”

  “I’m not even sure what you’re apologizing for anymore.”

  “I can make a list if you’d like. I wrote a lot of them down.” He slid forward to reach his back pocket. Removing his wallet, he opened it and pulled out a well-creased piece of notepaper. When he unfolded it, it tore along one of the edges.

  “Looks like you’ve been carrying it around for a long time.”

  “Since the afternoon of the disciplinary hearing. A few months ago.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug.

  Mouth hanging open, I stared at him in disbelief.

  “You think I’m kidding, but I’m not. Look at the first thing on the list.” He pressed the worn paper into my hand. The pencil had been rubbed and smeared with dirt and the oils from his hands.

  “Never attend another judicial council.”

  “That’s a good life goal.” I tried to hand the paper back to him, but my name caught my eye. I traced the words with my finger: Win Jo back. “Back? A little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

  His shy smile spread into a familiar confident grin. “I believe in setting my goals high.”

  “You have goals other than getting high?” The sarcasm flowed out of me before I could edit myself.

  He flinched a little. “Touché. I earned that.”

  I bit my tongue to resist apologizing. “I was never yours.”

  Exhaling, he rubbed his hand over his jaw. “You keep reminding me.”

  “We never went out—” I stopped him from interrupting by lifting my hand. “Let’s not argue over the semantics again.”

  “Okay, we never went out on a date. I accept I messed up. But have you ever met someone and known within the first five minutes of meeting them you would become friends?”

  I nodded.

  “You didn’t question it, you knew. Something in you matched up. Your edges fit together and you clicked.” He ran his fingers over the knuckle of my hand resting on his shin. “I knew. With you.”

  “We’d be friends?”

  “And more.”

  “Looks like you were wrong. On both accounts.” His touch tickled and I moved my hand away.

  He grabbed it and wove his fingers between mine, resting both our hands on his armrest. “I’d only be wrong if this was the end of us.”

  “Again, there is no us.” I watched as he unfolded my hand and traced the lines of my palm.

  “I want there to be an us.” With his chin tucked, he peeked up at me. He looked like a young boy trying to get out of trouble.

  “Ben . . .”

  “We’re stuck here for now, hear me out. Unless you want to leave. I won’t keep you against your will. You can take my car back to campus and I’ll catch a cab later.” His words ran together like he was out of time and options.

  “I’ll stay.”

  “You told me you wouldn’t go out with me because I didn’t ask. I should’ve asked you. I’m a jerk, because until you called me out on it, I didn’t think I had to. I thought we had something between us, and we’d hang out, you know, and fall into things.”

  “Things? Like your bed?” I bristled and felt myself begin to shut down. Not saying I hadn’t fantasized about his bed and him naked. Hypocrisy, thy name is Josephine.

  “Honestly? Yes. You’re beautiful. Any guy would be stupid or blind not to be attracted to you. Even a blind man would think you’re beautiful if you let him feel your face.”

  I gave him a sidelong look. “Got it. You wanted to sleep with me because I’m pretty.”

  “There’s more. You’re also super smart, probably smarter than me.” He gave me a little cocky wink.

  “You’ve yet to prove your intelligence.”

  “That’s the thing. Ever since last November, I’m turning things around. Did you see my final grade in global economics?”

  “You got a ninety-four. Congrats.” I admitted I knew his grade, which he could figure out meant I’d asked McDonald about him. “I take partial credit for you passing.”


  “You totally should. You motivated me to get my shit together. I got rid of the bong and the pipes. I haven’t smoked since winter break.”

  An older woman in a terrycloth housecoat sitting across from us scowled at Ben’s confession.

  “For the first time in my life, I’m working on goals.” He pointed at his list lying on my lap. “No more coasting. No more being a jerk because I feel entitled. Rebelling against the life I’ve been gifted only hurts myself.”

  “That’s deep.”

  “My very wise grandmother called me out at Christmas.”

  “She yelled at you on Christmas?”

  “Two spiked eggnogs into the evening and the white gloves came off. I didn’t think anyone in the family paid attention to my antics.”

  I imagined a small woman wearing white gloves and pearls in a boxing ring. “Did she give you a lump of coal in your stocking?”

  “No, I received a new cashmere sweater.”

  Of course he did. Getting back on topic, I brought up something still bothering me. “You were kind of a jerk for going out for coffee with Jenni and getting her hopes up.”

  “I never told her it was a date. I suggested we get coffee because we had you in common.”

  “Coffee is girl code for a casual date.”

  “It is?” He slowly blinked in realization. “Oh shit. Really? Explains a lot of things. Wow. Okay. I am a jerk.” He took the paper out of my hand. “Do you have a pen?”

  I found one in my purse. “What are you writing down?”

  “I need to apologize to Jenni.”

  “Are you doing some sort of twelve step program?”

  “Sort of.” He paused in his scribbling. “I didn’t go to rehab, if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not an addict. I just like smoking pot.”

  “And you can quit any time.” My sarcasm returned.

  “I have. Ask Gil. Or Maggie. They’ll tell you.”

  I frowned, but Maggie’s story corroborated his words.

  “My friends aren’t going to cover for me. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “No, I trust you. Maggie told me as much the other week.”

  He bit down on the end of the pen, but his lips curled in a grin. “You talked to Maggie about me?”

  I sighed. “Your name has come up in conversation. Mutual friends and everything.”

  “Right, right.” After folding the paper, he replaced it in his wallet. “Where was I?”

  “You have goals.”

  “I do. One of those goals is to go out with you. I assume you got my last message from Jenni.”

  Six words floated through my mind. “I did.”

  “What’s it going to take for you to say yes? I’ve apologized. I’ve stalked you. Waited outside your door. Returned your lost glove. Given you space and time. I even asked. Nicely, I might add.” He tucked the pen back into my bag, then picked up my hand again.

  I couldn’t keep avoiding him. No matter how much I wanted to protect my heart, I believed him.

  “Okay.”

  “What are you agreeing to?” Amusement and hope sparkled in his eyes.

  “I’ll stop avoiding you.” My heart beat faster. I wanted to scream yes, but I also wanted to play with him a little. Honestly, I enjoyed feeling powerful.

  As awareness coursed through me, I smiled. This wasn’t about me denying myself. Or worse, giving the guy all the power over me.

  This was about saying yes to something I’d denied myself for months. From the moment he walked into the study room—late, cocky, and assuming the guy at the head of the table was me—I’d wanted him. Even when I thought he was an aimless screw up and the worst idea ever. My heart had wanted him, no matter what reasoning my mind presented. No evidence could change the reaction my body had to his presence.

  “Will you go out with me? Let me be specific. Out with me on a date. The two of us. I’ll pick you up and drive us to a restaurant where I’ve made a reservation. I’ll pay the check with no arguing about going Dutch and splitting the bill because you’re a modern woman. A real, old-fashioned date.” His earnestness grew contagious.

  “Will there be a goodnight kiss on this date you have planned?”

  “Up to you. A peck on the cheek would be nice.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Nice? You’d be happy with nice?”

  He nodded happily. “We can go as fast or as slow as you want.”

  I mirrored his happy expression.

  “Let’s get out of here.” His hand brushed my hair over my shoulder.

  “We can’t. You still need an X-ray for your foot.”

  He stood up without wincing. “Look, it seems to be fine.”

  “Sit down! You’re probably in shock or something.” I pulled him down toward me.

  He caught himself, bracing his hands on my chair’s armrests. “I’m fine,” he whispered a few inches from my face.

  “Benton Grant . . .”

  “Yes, Josephine Asotin?” I liked the way he said my name, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

  I scowled at him, raising my hand in the air. “Are you telling me we’ve been sitting here in a germ infested ER full of sick people for the past two hours for no reason?” Angry little arrows burst my happy bubble.

  His signature cocky grin returned. “I wouldn’t say for no reason, but my foot is okay. I swear.”

  I glowered at him.

  “I needed to get you to listen to me. I did a risk assessment when I chased you down the stairs.”

  “You faked hurting yourself and lied to me?” My voice rose to a shout.

  A soft gasp told me the older woman had continued eavesdropping on us.

  “You’re too much. This is your idea of winning me over?” I lowered my voice to a whisper and shoved him away from me.

  He caught my hand. “I fibbed. A little white lie. Nothing major.”

  I stormed out of the ER with him shadowing me. “Maybe I had plans tonight. Or homework or a test to study for!”

  “Jo.” He stopped walking once we got to the parking lot.

  “What?”

  “The car is over there.” He pointed to the opposite side of the hospital.

  “I knew that.” I stomped off in the new direction.

  “Remember five minutes ago when you liked me? You smiled at me and everything.” His voice sounded happy, despite my mood change.

  Arriving at the car, I paused. He got under my skin like no other guy. One minute he lit up my world. The next, he riled me up like he knew where every single one of my buttons were located and what set me off.

  “I’m so mad at you right now.”

  “Only right now? You’ve been angry at me for months. In fact, have you ever not been mad at me? Pretty sure at this point, mad is the status quo. I’m not sure what you would do with yourself if you weren’t in a constant state of being annoyed at me.”

  Despite all of my protests and doubts, he also made me laugh.

  His brows lifted higher on his forehead and he pouted out his lip in some fake innocent expression I’m sure he thought would get him out of any trouble. “I’m sorry I faked a non-life threatening injury to get some alone time with you. However, I’m not sorry we talked. The motivation was honest, even if the injury was a lie. Forgive me?”

  “You say sorry a lot.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Being less apologetic?”

  “No, doing fewer things resulting in an apology. Starting with you.” He stepped closer. “Instead of more apologies, I’ll tell you what I don’t regret.”

  I backed up until my thighs and bottom pressed against the car.

  “I’m not sorry we spent the evening together.” He took another step.

  “I’m not sorry I made you laugh.” Another step.

  “I’m not sorry I held your hand.” He stopped walking when only a few inches separated our bodies. Reaching between us, he wrapped both of my hands in his.

  “I�
��m not sorry for the way I feel about you.” He leaned closer.

  I rested against the car and closed my eyes, my breathing shallow as I waited for whatever came next.

  “And I’m never going to regret doing this.” His lips brushed against mine in the softest, most tortured kiss I’d ever experienced.

  He groaned, and for a brief moment, he pressed himself against me. Then the kiss ended.

  I slowly opened my eyelids, feeling as stunned as he looked.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  I simply touched my lips in response. The feel of his kiss lingered and its memory tingled along the tender skin.

  “Go out with me tonight.” It wasn’t a question.

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. I’ll ask you again in fifteen minutes.”

  “Two Princes” ~ Spin Doctors

  HE KEPT HIS word. When the clock on his dashboard showed twelve o’clock, he asked me to dinner.

  I said yes. With no regrets.

  Ben arrived right on time at my door to escort me to dinner. He apologized to Jenni about misunderstanding the underlying code for coffee and told her he’d set her up with his friend Roger if she wanted a fun time.

  He opened my doors all evening, including the car door. He’d morphed into the perfect gentleman. In fact, almost too perfect. Like Eddie Haskell on Leave it to Beaver—super smooth with all the right things to say.

  He slipped the maître d’ a folded bill and we were seated at a table with a view of Lake Union in Seattle. Thick white cloths covered the tables and a harpist played in the corner. A real live woman plucking away on a gold harp while people chewed their food. Talk about over the top.

  My menu didn’t have prices on it, but he assured me I could order anything, and it would be fine.

  I had the crab. He had the steak. We shared and created our own version of surf and turf.

  Everything was perfect.

  No clowns.

  No punches thrown.

  It all seemed very grown up and sophisticated. Like something I’d experienced at senior prom, but without the shiny pink lamé prom dress with extra puffy sleeves and satin pumps dyed to match. No wilted wrist corsage either.