In Too Hard (Freshman Roommates Trilogy, Book 3) (27 page)

He looked at me a second longer, then seemed to snap out of it and bring his focus back. Another familiarity that was both sweet and painful to remember. “Right. Right.” He moved past me and his bare arm brushed mine. “I have an early galley from my publisher that I need proofread.”

“And you want
me
to do it?”
 
He nodded. “Don’t they do that for you at the publishing house?” I asked.

Another nod. “They do. But the final look is on the author. And I don’t trust myself, having seen it so many times. I need fresh eyes on it.”

“Not entirely fresh eyes,” I pointed out.

“No, but I think you’ll be surprised how different it is from the version you read.”

A little tingle of pride rippled through me. “Did you use some of the
Gangster’s Providence
text?”

A laugh, rich and throaty and so good to hear, came from him. “Oh, yeah. I used most of your suggestions. You’ll see yourself all over this version, Syd.” He picked up a huge stack of paper from his desk and walked toward me. It looked like an entire ream that you’d take out of the package and put in the printer, but when he got closer I saw that the outside margins were huge, with the text being the size of an actual book with page numbers and folios and everything, just centered on regular printer paper. This must be what a galley looked like.

I reached out to take it from him, but he held it back. “I couldn’t have done this without you Syd. None of it. I mentioned you in the acknowledgements, but it will never be enough for what you did for me.”

I was in the acknowledgements? I reached again for the manuscript, curious to see if acknowledgements were included in publisher’s galleys.

“But you can’t take it with you. I really need to have it in my possession the whole time. I had to sign a waiver and everything. They’re really afraid of leaks before publication.”

“You think I’d leak it?” I said, but he was already shaking his head.

“No. Of course not. But I told them I’d keep it with me at all times. They’re being really paranoid about it. I guess there’s a bunch of online leaks happening for anticipated books lately. Like the whole book, not just excerpts. Ebook pirating, all of it.”

“Oh, okay. So, how do you want to do this if you need to be in possession of it?” God, was he going to sit here while I proofread? No way would I be able to concentrate on his manuscript.

“Well, do you have some time now? Why don’t you take the desk and start in on it. I’ve got the last of my class papers to read, and I can do that on the couch.” He turned and grabbed something from his desk. “Oh, here,” he said, handing me my scarf. “You must have left this here that last night that—”

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing the fabric from him. I’d known it was missing of course, even knew when I’d left it, having searched for it the morning after we broke up. There was no way I was going back and asking him for it, though it pained me to not have at least the scarf as a physical reminder of our time together.

“So…can you start now?” He didn’t seem to be waiting for my answer. Moving across the room, he picked up a batch of student papers from the credenza and made his way to the couch, where he plunked down, crossing one long leg over the other, ankle to knee.

“Uh, yeah…I guess,” I said and walked around the desk, then took a seat. He just nodded and then started reading, red pen in hand. Something was off about this whole thing, but I couldn’t figure out what. How was I even a qualified proofreader?

I studied him for a while, selfishly soaking in the sight of him while he was distracted. When he looked up and caught me, I just held up the manuscript in a “yep, I’m gonna read it now” kind of way. He just gave a tiny nod then returned to the paper he held.

A galley apparently is exactly what you see in a book, just in loose-leaf form. The title page with Billy’s name was first, followed by the copyright page. Next was the dedication, which was to his sister, and very sweet.

On to the acknowledgements. First his editor, then his agent. His parents were thanked. And then…

A special thank you to Sydney O’Brien, who worked as my assistant on this book. She offered great feedback, advice, ideas, and the occasional kick in the ass when needed.
I smiled and read on.
This book would not have been written without her.
That was nice. And…
She certainly earned the right to have the
Down in Flames
protagonist named in her honor.

Wait. What?

I quickly flipped to the next page in the stack.

Chapter One

Nobody had ever met a woman like Sydney Cassidy.

Same opening line I’d read two months ago, except then it had been Esel. When Jane told me about Billy’s book deal I’d briefly wondered if he’d gone with Esme or Rachel, or something else entirely.

He’d chosen Sydney.

My head snapped up to find Billy staring at me. “Why?” I asked.

He put the paper he’d been reading down on the couch and rose, then walked over to the front of the desk, putting his hands down and leaning over so that he was at my eye level, the desk between us.

The desk, and a whole lot of other shit stood between us.

“Do you remember the conversation about my character being Salinger’s Esme?”

“Yes,” I said. It had been the first of many conversations about his characters. “Vaguely.”

“You described her as, and I quote, ‘Practical. Unsentimental. Wise beyond her years. Very matter-of-fact. And yet you know she’s going to rip your heart out.’ Sound like anyone we both know?”

“I…I…” I was speechless and by his smile, he knew it.

He leaned a little further across the desk. Still not touchable from where I sat, but maybe if I scooted—“I didn’t write you, Syd, but your name fits this character. To a tee. And it was a name I wanted around me always.” He pointed to his book. “It’s not carved in stone, but it will definitely be in print and on bookshelves.”

I ran his words (my words, actually) through my head. “But
I
didn’t rip
your
heart out,” I said.

He put both his hands over his heart, white and stark against the black of his T-shirt. “From the first, you ripped my heart out. I’m just so sorry I did the same to you.”

He took a step back away from the desk and I held my breath. Was he going to go back to his couch and start reading again? Was I supposed to just thank him for naming a character after me and return to work? Did knowing his heart was broken like mine help?

“Did you even really need me to proofread?” I asked.

He smiled, but it was small and faint. “No. I just wanted you to see it before it came out. It was true that I’m not supposed to let it out of my possession, so this seemed like a good way to get you here.”

Oh. So I wouldn’t be spending torturous hours only steps away from the man I loved but who didn’t love me back. I held back a sob, cleared my throat and said as I rose from my chair, “Oh, okay. Well, it was a lovely gesture, thank you.”

A look of panic came across his face. “No. No, I didn’t… Shit, I messed this up.” I was rounding the desk now and he took a step over to stand in my way. “Syd,” he said, and started to reach for me, when a knock came at the door.

His hands dropped back to his sides. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he murmured and left me standing in confusion as he went to open the door.

“We’re here to move your stuff,” came a voice from the other side of the door once Billy had opened it. From my angle I couldn’t see the man.

“Now? This isn’t a really good time,” Billy said.

“This is when we were scheduled to be here.”

Billy ran his hand through his hair. “I know. Well, I forgot actually, but yeah. Can you give me a few minutes at least?”

A pause, then, “We can do the office next to you first, but then we need to do this one. That’s all for this floor.”

“Thanks. Yeah, okay. I just need a few minutes is all,” Billy said.

“It’ll take us about forty-five to get the other office done, if that.” Billy was nodding and thanking the man again. “Office two-thirty-three? That’s the one you’re moving to?” the man added.

“Yeah, I guess,” Billy said. “I know it’s two down from Corrine Patterson’s.”

“Yep, that’s it. Okay, see you shortly,” the man said and Billy thanked him again, then closed the door. He put his hand against the wall and took a deep breath, then turned back to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked. “They’re not here to move your stuff to New York?”

The smile was back, but still so tentative. “No, not New York. They’re moving my stuff to my new office upstairs.”

I still wasn’t getting it. “Seems like a stupid time to assign you to a new office, right before the end of the semester.” He shrugged. “Why don’t they just wait until you go back to New York? Less to move, if they still want the furniture and stuff upstairs.”

He took another step to me, standing right in front of me, only an arm’s length away. I ached to be this close to him and still not be able to touch him. “Because I’m not going back to New York, Syd. I’m staying here at Bribury. I’m going to teach next year too. I’m going to stay for a while. I just agreed to an offer from the dean yesterday.”

“Wow, you’re sure getting the deals lately,” I said. My mind was already whirring with thoughts of how I’d need to map out my classes next year so I could avoid seeing Billy around campus. I’d thought I’d just needed to get through a couple more weeks of knowing the man I loved was on my little campus, and yet so, so far away from me.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said. “Actually, I first approached the dean about me staying on, but he was very receptive to the idea.”

“Of course he was, you’re a great catch for Bribury,” I said. I didn’t add that he was a great catch for anybody.

“Thanks.” He just stared down at me, not saying anything, causing an incredibly awkward silence. At least it seemed awkward to me.

“So, okay. I guess if you don’t need me to proofread I’ll head out. Congrats on the book again. And, good luck here at Bribury…”
 

“Wait, Syd.” As I walked past him he reached out and took my arm just above my hand, his touch cool on my flushed skin. “Christ, I am totally messing this up,” he said. He chuckled. “I should have
written
what I wanted to say.”

I held very still, not daring to guess what he’d planned to say. But hoping. I couldn’t stop the hoping. “What did you want to say, Billy?” I said softly.

“I’m staying because of you, Syd. Yes, I found I really loved teaching, but I could do it anywhere.
You’re
at Bribury. So
I’m
staying at Bribury.” Another deep breath from him, his exhale shaky. “And I’m going to fight like hell to get you back, Sydney O’Brien.”

I slid my arm up, still in his hold, until our hands met and I laced my fingers with his. “That’s going to be a pretty short battle,” I said, squeezing his hand.

He tugged me to him and I fell into his arms. His mouth was on mine and I returned his kiss, two months of pent up frustration finally bursting free.

His arms around me, his taste, the soft breaths he took… All so sweet, all so familiar, all so…mine.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my body closer into his, feeling his already growing erection against me.

He broke away. “Before we go further—and let me just say that we’re definitely going to be using the last forty-five minutes we’ve got with that couch very wisely—I need to tell you something.”

“You named your main character after me. You’re staying at Bribury. And you’ve got me back in your arms. What more could you possibly have to tell me?”

He smiled. The smile that had been in the photo I’d printed at the library, and the smile in the picture on his desk, now packed away. The smile I’d loved for years before I ever saw it in person. The smile I would love forever.

“I love you, Syd,” he said.

“I love you too, Billy.” I ran my hands across his shoulders and buried them in his hair. Yep, my knuckles brushed against the bottom of his neck. Dead-on.

He kissed me again and then broke away, placed his forehead against mine and said, “I’m a writer, I probably should have come up with something more original than just ‘I love you, Syd,’ right?”

I shook my head. “Don’t mess with the classics.”

Epilogue

Syd

I
t was our job to bring the pizza, so Billy and I were the last to show up at Lucas’s apartment for New Year’s Eve. Jane, Lily and I had talked about going out, but had ended up wanting to spend the evening together—all of us—where we could just hang out and eat, drink and be merry.

We still lived together for our sophomore year, though in an off-campus apartment instead of the dorms, but with our classes, work, and…relationships, we didn’t see each other all that much, so had made a point of doing New Year’s Eve together.

I was sure the evening would break up right after midnight, knowing each of the couples would want to be alone to truly ring in the new year together. Because our apartment was only two bedrooms (Lily and Jane shared, since they were used to each other), we’d figured it would make more sense to start at one of the guys’ apartments and then split up, instead of at our place.