The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series)

by Georgina Guthrie

  She kept her arms crossed but looked as though she’d given up wanting to take out Matt, opting to stay and fight with me instead.

  “Look, I’m not sure what the deal is here tonight—who you’ve left in there—” I gestured back toward the Kap house. “Maybe you’ve got a date waiting for you. I don’t know. But in all honesty, I don’t think ten minutes is going to cut it, and I’m really not comfortable sitting here in the middle of fraternity row. I’d love to get the hell out of here and sort all this shit out with you, but if you want to go back inside, I understand.”

  I was being as gracious as I could manage; it would have gutted me to watch her go back, but I was in no position to make demands of her.

  “Where did you want to go?” Her tone was noncommittal.

  “Nowhere in particular. Anywhere off campus.”

  “Jesus…” She sighed deeply. “Okay—just give me a sec.” She reached into her pocket and took out her cell phone. “I’m going to text Matt to tell him I’m leaving, if that’s okay with you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course that’s okay. I’m not a monster. Please don’t make me feel like one.”

  While she was busy texting, I took the opportunity to pull out of my parking spot. I didn’t want her to change her mind, and I figured she couldn’t escape as long as the car was moving. I had no clue where we were going so I drove south, trying to put as much distance between us and the Kap house as possible. I glanced over as she slipped her phone into her purse.

  “All done?” I asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied with forced politeness.

  I tried to split my attention between her and the road.

  “You look gorgeous, by the way. The dress, your hair—you look stunning.”

  “Thank you,” she said crisply. “Joanna did it for me.”

  “Joanna?”

  “My roommate. My other roommate. I guess I haven’t told you about her. She’s not around much. But don’t worry; I’m not sleeping with her either.”

  “I wasn’t…” I didn’t even know what to say. Was she even going to give me a chance? Or was I bashing my head against a brick wall? I sighed, exasperated.

  “And in case you’re thinking I told her about us, I didn’t, so please don’t—”

  “That didn’t even occur to me.” I glanced at her quickly. “I trust you.”

  “Ha!” She shook her head and turned to look out the window. “That’s rich.”

  Oh, shit. This was not going well. I could feel my blood pressure rising.

  “Daniel, would you slow down?” she asked, her voice tight.

  Crap—I was going seventy-five in a fifty zone. The last thing I needed was a speeding ticket. I brought my speed more in line with the legal limit and then was forced to come to a screeching stop. Up ahead, the traffic lights at College Street shone green, but for some reason cars in front of me weren’t moving.

  “Jesus Christ, is there a particular shade of green you’re waiting for, assholes?” I growled.

  Aubrey was grasping the arm rest tightly. “If you’re gonna drive like a maniac, you can let me out. I’ve had a bad week, but I’m not frigging suicidal.”

  I forced myself to breathe, and as the car in front of us moved forward, I proceeded slowly, maintaining a safe following distance.

  “There, is that better?” I asked.

  She let go of the arm rest and clasped her hands in her lap. “Much. Thank you.”

  “Here.” I handed her my iPod and plugged it into the stereo. “Why don’t you find some music? We’d better save the talking until I can pull over somewhere.”

  We reached College Street, and she scrolled through my playlists. Instinctively I wanted to turn left toward my condo, but I turned right instead, still having no earthly clue where I was going. I should have planned this more carefully. I glanced at Aubrey again. She was examining my iPod with interest.

  “See if you can find my UK playlist. Look for a song called ‘The Weight of My Words,’” I suggested.

  “Yeah, it’s here.”

  “Okay, throw that on,” I said.

  I turned up the volume, hoping against hope that the song’s lyrics might soften her up. It would be easy for me to tell her that I was at a loss to properly communicate my feelings, but I decided to let the song speak for me—at least for now.

  She peeked at me out of my peripheral vision. “Daniel,” she said. Her tone was heart-wrenching.

  “Shh. Listen.”

  I tried to keep my attention focused on the road, battling with my frayed emotions. Aubrey was wringing her hands, staring out the passenger window, perhaps as wrecked as me.

  Somehow we’d arrived at Lakeshore Boulevard. I turned right, continuing to move away from the city center. Traffic was light, and now that I no longer wanted to punch out every driver on the road, I focused on finding a quiet place to stop.

  I scanned the parking lots at the side of the boulevard, then I remembered the Palais Royale was a little farther along, just past the Boulevard Club. The perfect spot to talk. I smiled, wondering if Aubrey had ever been there. Probably not. Now I was excited—eager to share this wonderful place with her. How quickly I’d forgotten that I had a hell of a lot of work to do before I could count on her wanting to share anything with me.

  I stole another quick look at her. The song was drawing to a close, and she was nibbling at her thumbnail. As the final note rang through the speakers, I reached over and turned off the stereo. There was no way I could cope with the next song. Up ahead, the Palais Royale lit up the darkened boulevard. I pulled into the busy parking lot, maneuvering into a spot and turning off the engine.

  Now what?

  “That was a nice song,” she said, her voice a strained whisper.

  “I listened to it on Wednesday, and it damn near killed me,” I admitted.

  She didn’t respond, instead training her eyes out the front window where the lake was shimmering, the lights from the boardwalk lamp posts reflecting across the waves. The gulf between us seemed insurmountable. Regardless, I had to try.

  “Aubrey, how did this happen?” I struggled to maintain a deferential tone. I didn’t want her to think I was accusing her of anything.

  “I hope that’s a rhetorical question,” she said, her expression weary.

  I gazed out at the lake for a moment before looking back at her. “I’m not sure that it is.”

  “So you want an answer?”

  “I think it’s about time I gave you the opportunity to say what you wanted to tell me on Tuesday. I’m sure I’m not going to like what I’m about to hear, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a chance to say it. I promise to listen rationally if you promise to allow me the chance to explain myself, too.”

  “All right. Well, you handled things extremely poorly this week, Daniel.”

  “Tell me what I should have done. I’ve obviously got some learning to do.”

  “‘To teach a teacher ill beseemeth me.’”

  I smiled grimly. “Your uncanny ability to come up with some sort of Shakespearean comeback is impressive, but I think you already outdid yourself on that score today. I want you to talk to me tonight, Aubrey, not Ophelia, not Cleopatra, not Desdemona, and not the Princess of France. You.”

  “I don’t even know where to start.” She shook her head. “How could you assume I’d betrayed you with Matt after the time we spent together last week? Do you honestly have so little faith in me? That hurt. A lot.”

  I’d jumped to conclusions; I knew that now. I also knew with unshakeable certainty that she deserved the truth. She needed to know why I’d been so confused—that it hadn’t been a reflection of her character, but rather my own hang-ups and fears. Christ, how to start?

  “Aubrey?” I reached over to hold her hand.

  “Please don’t. Not now, Daniel. I can’t right now.”

  I sighed, disheartened and desperate to connect with her.

  “I handled things poorly on Tuesd
ay. Our argument on the weekend threw me for a loop. Everything that happened this week goes back to that damn cab ride.”

  “So you’re saying it’s all my fault for coming on too strong?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean at all. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to take you home with me? I came so close, and that really scared me. I know we’ve already crossed a line, Aubrey. We can’t go back. But the thought of taking things further made me hate myself. I couldn’t do it. But God, I wanted to. I really wanted to.”

  I impulsively reached out to her again, and this time she let me take her hand in both of mine. I rubbed my thumb across her knuckles, looking down at our joined hands before meeting her eyes again.

  “Instead I rejected you, and I’m sorry for that. The look on your face when I pushed you away—it tortured me. You’re so beautiful, Aubrey. I imagine you spending time with single guys like Matt, and I can’t believe they don’t want to be with you. I was terrified that I’d lose you to someone else because I couldn’t move forward with you.”

  “That’s crazy. I don’t want anyone else.”

  I nodded, ashamed of my insecurities.

  “It might seem crazy to you,” I said, “but trust me, it all made perfect sense to me on Saturday night. I did a lot of thinking the next day and came to an important decision—one that would allow me to be with you. I went shopping and bought you those gloves and packaged them up with my T-shirt and that note. I couldn’t wait to tell you what I’d decided. I convinced myself you’d be so happy that you’d forgive me for sending you mixed messages. But then we couldn’t seem to find a time to get together—I was even tempted to cancel my tutorial so we could get the hell out of there and talk.”

  She looked at me expectantly. “What was it that you were so desperate to tell me?”

  “I’d decided to withdraw from my position in Martin’s class. That’s how badly I wanted you. I was prepared to give up my position for you, Aubrey. For us.”

  My heart pounded as I waited for her to react to my words.

  “Daniel, that is hands down one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever said.”

  The blood drained from my face. Ridiculous?

  “I thought you’d be happy…” I faltered.

  She sighed and shifted in her seat. “For an intelligent guy, you say and do some really stupid things sometimes.” She shook her head in exasperation.

  I was completely dumbfounded.

  “I thought you’d be thrilled when you heard I’d be willing to make that sacrifice for you.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She flopped her head back against her seat, beyond irritated. What the hell? “Look, can we get out—go for a walk or something?” she said. “Something about us trying to have discussions in cars—I don’t know. It doesn’t work.”

  She opened her door before I had a chance to respond. I climbed out, pulling on my overcoat and buttoning it up as I led her toward the sidewalk, instinctively reaching for her hand and threading it through the crook of my arm.

  “Okay,” I said. “Why the hell was my decision so stupid?”

  She stopped and put both of her hands in her pockets. It was like I’d been cut adrift and needed to grab on to her to keep me grounded. She was obviously pulling away for a reason, so I put my hands in my pockets too, trying to avoid appearing as uncomfortable as I felt. She gazed up at me earnestly.

  “Think about it, Daniel. You love being Professor Brown’s TA. You should see yourself in tutorial. You become so, I don’t know, passionate—professorial—I don’t even know how to explain it. It’s obvious that you love it. You do, don’t you?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course I love it. But isn’t that even more of a reason to appreciate what I was willing to give up to make things work? To not have to sneak around anymore? To not have to wait?”

  “Maybe in theory, but do you think I want to be responsible for you giving up something that means so much to you?”

  My heartbeat quickened as her face softened, her intensity gradually giving way to tenderness. How on earth could she possibly be so intuitive? I didn’t want to give up this position. It did mean a lot to me. But at what cost?

  “Do you see what I mean now?” she said.

  “I swear you understand me better than I understand myself sometimes.”

  I thought about the strange niggling feelings I’d been having over the last few days—the hazy unformed thoughts hovering on the edges of my mind. Of course. That’s why I was so quick to assume she was messing around with Matt. I’d been considering dropping out of Martin’s class, but deep down, I wasn’t happy with the decision. Believing Aubrey had chosen another guy over me was merely my subconscious kicking in, fabricating a scenario that would give me another out. How could it have taken me a whole damn week to understand what she’d figured out in five minutes?

  “So you’re not going to quit, right?” she pressed. “Promise?”

  “I won’t. I promise. And God knows I don’t deserve you, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to give you up without a fight, either.” I stroked her cheek with the back of my hand. “Tell me you forgive me. Tell me I haven’t ruined everything with my pride and stupidity.” She looked up at me, her chin trembling. “Please say something. You’re killing me.”

  And then she smiled—a small, reluctant upturn of her beautiful lips.

  “I thought I’d never get to have a conversation with you where I wasn’t ‘Miss Price’ ever again,” she said, her voice wavering. She struggled to keep her emotions in check, and my heart clenched.

  “I hate myself for what I’ve done to you this week. And today—you were so angry. Knowing I’m the one who’s responsible for that? I’m a prick.”

  Aubrey nodded, and I couldn’t blame her. “I hate how emotional I’ve been this week. I’m not usually like this,” she said.

  “You don’t have to beat yourself up for having feelings,” I assured her. “Believe me. I’ve had my fair share of ups and downs this week as well.”

  She looked at me grimly. “So now what?”

  I shoved my hands into my pockets again. “Well, I’m determined not to take you home until we’ve figured out where we go from here.”

  “Literally or figuratively?” She turned to look at the two paths ahead of us which veered off in opposite directions. “I don’t think I’m up for a stroll on the beach. What’s that building over there?” she asked.

  “Well, I kind of pulled into this lot on purpose. This is the Palais Royale. I’d love to take you inside and show you around. It’s beautiful. There are a couple of quiet spots where we could sit and talk. You game?”

  “We definitely have lots to talk about.”

  “Before we go in, can I do something?”

  “Um, okay.”

  “Can you please hold out your hands?” I waited for her to comply, her expression wary. I pulled her rainbow gloves out of my pocket. She smiled contritely and offered me a hand. I pushed a glove onto her left hand, followed suit with the right, and then clasped her fingers tightly. “I know these gloves are crazy and probably not what you would have picked out for yourself, but as soon as I saw them I couldn’t resist. You do want to keep them, I hope?”

  “Yes, Daniel. I want to keep them. They may be crazy, but I love them. They’re perfect.”

  “And you’ll try not to lose them?”

  “I’m not going to let them out of my sight,” she whispered.

  She glanced down at our joined hands before looking back up at me.

  “Daniel—”

  I didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. I pulled her against me tightly, encircling her with my arms, a surge of relief washing over me when her hands moved up to my shoulders. A familiar flicker of desire stirred within me when she snuggled into my neck, her warm breath tickling my throat.

  How could I have failed to notice before how perfectly she fit there?

  Aubrey

  Chapter 28

  Fair W
ords

  Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute:

  Give me one kiss, I’ll give it thee again,

  And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain.

  (Venus and Adonis)

  MY RESOLVE WENT COMPLETELY DOWN THE DRAIN. It was next to impossible to stay angry with him. He was so apologetic, so remorseful. And that damn song we’d heard in the car—how could I not react emotionally to that? How could I think straight with his arms around me and his whiskery cologne-scented jaw intoxicating me? Surely I couldn’t be faulted for wavering.

  “You’ll never believe how much I’ve missed you,” Daniel whispered.

  Yep. That did it. I was toast. “I missed you too,” I said, my face still buried in his neck.

  He squeezed me tightly. “Mmm. It feels so good to hear you say that.” He pulled back to look at me. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

  “You look amazing too. Great suit.” I raised an eyebrow. “And, uh, nice hair.”

  “I got it cut for you.”

  “I knew this whole get-up was premeditated, Mr. GQ.”

  He grinned broadly, his eyes sparkling. “Come on. Let’s get inside so I can have a good look at you.”

  He took my hand, leading me down the pathway. As we neared the building, I heard music drifting out into the night. It wasn’t contemporary music, though. It sounded like—well, it sounded a lot like something from a nineteen forties movie.

  “Is this a banquet hall?” I asked him.

  “The Palais Royale? It’s a dance hall—a ballroom. There’s a live orchestra, and they play standards and jazz, big band tunes, that sort of thing.”

  We entered the building together, the sound of band music traveling into the lobby from behind a pair of double glass doors. A young woman stood behind a long counter beside a cloakroom, and she smiled as we approached.

  Before Daniel had a chance to speak to her, I grasped his elbow. “I’m just going to use the washroom first.”

  “Of course. It’s over there, to the left.” He pointed to the other end of the lobby.