Page 24 of Olivia’s Only Pretending (Sweet River #3)

Seventeen

Me

I’m sorry I was such a bad charades partner

Victor

it’s okay, you can make it up to me

Me

How so?

Victor

It’ll take a few back deck chats and famous grilled cheeses

Me

Done and done!

T he next morning, I was running late to work after tossing and turning all night. My thoughts were a tangled mess over Victor and me. I drove under a sheet of rain to the school, running across the campus, trying to avoid puddles with my jacket over my head.

“Long morning?” Sylvie asked as I passed her desk, feeling like a soggy mop.

“Long night ,” I moaned, running my fingers through my damp hair as I headed toward my office.

I collapsed into my office chair, dropping my tote bag on the ground beside me while taking a few deep breaths in and out.

I chuckled a little because it reminded me of Victor.

Back when we first started spending time together, I had just moved into my house.

The early stages of renovations were chaotic and stressful, and he saw firsthand how tightly wound I could get.

I remembered the first time he gently reminded me to breathe.

“Your shoulders are by your ears,” he said, eyes squinting at me. He placed a heavy, warm hand on my shoulder, pressing it down gently.

“I’m stressed.” I was sitting on my hardwood floor among a scattered pile of plans for my house that felt daunting. “I store my stress in my body. It winds up my neck and shoulders.”

“Liv.” Victor’s usual playful voice took on a soft tone.

It immediately settled my thoughts like someone turning the radio from static to silence.

“Don’t worry about all of this.” He patted the pile of papers.

“Just worry about this.” He picked up one of the first plans we’d agreed upon.

“This is the only thing we worry about right now. We’re doing this one step at a time. ”

I took the paper from his hands and looked at it. This one we were ready to tackle. All the kinks were sorted. I liked the idea of letting the others patiently wait to be worried over.

“And if you start trying to carry your worries around on your shoulders again”—he gave my shoulder another squeeze, his rough fingertips against my soft skin—“breathe in and out, in and out.”

We took a deep breath together, over and over, until it felt silly, and we were laughing there on my living room floor, my stress burned off at the edges.

It became a consistent ritual between the two of us. Anytime I’d start getting stressed, my shoulders drawing up toward my ears, Victor would step in.

Wherever we were—my house, the pizza place downtown, the hardware shop—he would look me in the eyes and say, in that steady, warm voice that felt like an embrace, breathe in and out, in and out .

Somehow, something so simple felt like a balm to my raw nerves. Something about it always worked. I wasn’t sure if it was the breathing. Or Victor. Probably both.

Yet, even now, on a stressful day with rain running down my neck, alone in my office, Victor still found a way to settle my nerves, without even being here.

I turned on my computer to begin responding to emails when a student knocked on my door. I waved her in.

Chloe, a student in my Ancient Greek History class, sat down in the chair opposite my desk. “Hi, Dr. Rhodes. I saw you had office hours today. I wanted to pop by for a second.”

“That’s great. I love when my students pop by.” I leaned back in my chair.

“I heard about your romance book club. My friend Ashley is in it, and she’s always raving about how fun it is.

I’ve been too busy this semester to attend any of the meet-ups, but the other day, I grabbed one of the books you guys are reading for October,” she said, as I reached for my coffee cup to steal a sip.

“It’s set in Ancient Greece. I was meaning to just flip through it for fun, but I wound up devouring it over the weekend. ”

“Sometimes, a book will sneak up on you like that. You won’t expect it, but it’ll hook you. I’ve missed a lot of sleep thanks to some good books.”

“The interesting thing is that I’ve really struggled to wrap my mind around your Ancient Greece course.

We’re supposed to be learning about their daily lives and customs, and my mind has trouble grasping onto it in a concrete way.

But this book”—she pulled it out of her bag and waved it around—“has really helped. It made what we’re studying come alive and really grounded it in my mind. ”

I couldn’t contain my smile as Chloe went on about specific details from the book that helped her understand key concepts from our class. This was exactly what I loved about teaching. We wound up talking for nearly forty minutes.

“I’m telling you, Dr. Rhodes,” Chloe said, swinging her backpack over her shoulder before she left. “You should include a book like this in your syllabus.”

“That’d be fun,” I said, half laughing, as Chloe walked out the door. I spun in my chair back toward my computer, but what Chloe said was stuck in my head like a new song.

It would be fun to include romance books set or even written during a specific time to a history class to make the details come alive and add depth and dimension to the facts and concepts.

I imagined discussing the corresponding details like I’d just done with Chloe, her excitement palpable, with an entire class.

It felt like a dream.

T here was another knock at my door. I glanced up to discover Victor leaning against the doorway, his dark hair swooped down over his eyes. His gray sweater was tight over his shoulders, and his hands were in his jeans pockets.

My eyebrows knit in confusion. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“The lecture is in half an hour, right?” He glanced down at his watch.

“Yeah, but …” I stood up from my desk, frazzled. I didn’t remember inviting Victor to the seminar. “I didn’t know you were coming to the lecture?”

“Well, when we decided I’d be your copilot to the Fall Seminar events, I went and screenshotted the schedule the school posted to their Instagram,” Victor said, still leaning against the doorframe.

“You follow the school on Instagram?”

“You don’t?”

I crossed my arms. “So, I have a date to the classics lecture by Dr. Shannon Hadaway?” Dr. Shannon Hadaway was notoriously long-winded and boring, some might say.

“You’ve got a date to anything you want, baby girl.” He walked into my office toward my desk.

I shook my head. “You know, my pretend boyfriend showing up to a dinner or a festival makes sense. My pretend boyfriend showing up to a lecture by a guest professor might look kind of weird.”

“Not that weird. Clingy, maybe? But I’m a clingy pretend boyfriend,” Victor said. “Plus, what if Ryan winds up sitting next to you or something and you need backup?”

“Doubtful.” I started packing up my tote before heading over to the auditorium for the lecture. “But you’re here already—might as well tag along.”

We wove across campus under the sprinkling rain and trees the shades of copper and amber.

Victor carried my tote bag so I could hold my blazer over my head to protect myself from the downpour.

As he told me about his workday, making me laugh, I accidentally bumped into his shoulder and caught the scent off his sweater.

The smell of him mingled with the fresh rainfall.

I felt giddy to have him back on campus with me.

We didn’t have that much longer to this fall series.

My stomach sank at the thought that the school’s Fall Seminar was ending soon. This was one of the last events before we headed into finals and holidays.

I stole a glance at Victor as we walked into the auditorium.

His eyes crinkled at something I’d said.

I was amazed that something I’d dreaded—these fall events with my ex-boyfriend—had somehow become something I was sad to see end, like the days of a long-awaited vacation drawing closer to the flight back home. Closer to reality.

We slid into our seats, chatting as the auditorium slowly started to fill up, until one of the only seats left was the seat right in front of me. Ryan rushed in and plopped down before it was taken.

Victor bumped his arm into mine. “I told you,” he whispered, not above gloating.

I didn’t remember the back of Ryan’s head being so irritating, but it was now. Did he always use that much hair gel? I squinted. Did he color his hair?

He was hunched forward, his posture nervous.

“He keeps glancing back,” Victor whispered low, leaning toward me. “He knows you’re behind him with your hot young buck.”

I snorted. A couple of people, Ryan included, glanced my way. “My hot young buck ?” I whispered slowly, emphasizing each word.

“I know what I am, Liv.” Victor stretched his arms, folding them behind his head. His feet stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

“A hot young buck?” I pulled his arms down, setting them politely at his sides. We didn’t need to make a scene at this lecture.

“ Your hot young buck.” Victor’s voice was syrupy, warm.

I should hate that sentence, but something about Victor made everything adorable and, well, kind of hot.

I shook my head disapprovingly, crossing my legs. The lights dimmed. I could see Dr. Hadaway walking toward the podium. “It’s starting,” I murmured.

Dr. Hadaway introduced herself, but I couldn’t hear a thing she said after that. Victor and I, without any planning or acting, both scooted closer toward one another over the shared armrest. His body heat mingled with mine in a reassuring, disarming way.

My heart pounded loudly in my ears.