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CHAPTER ONE

Will (Billy)

Will was sure his Calculus 101 professor had seen his eyes glaze over in class today. If he heard about “the fundamental notions of convergence of infinite sequences and infinite series to a well-defined limit” one more time, he thought he might scream! Why had he thought taking this class was a good idea? Oh yeah, it was his advisor who had suggested it since Will wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to do for a living. A general business degree, including things like this hell called calculus, would be a good thing. She claimed her recommendations were based on Will’s SAT scores, but Will wasn’t convinced. He slumped into a chair in the student lounge of Quincy College and groaned.

He pulled his laptop and a ham-and-cheese sandwich out of his backpack along with a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips and a bottle of water, then began to eat his lunch while going over some notes for his English class, which started in an hour. It was nice to have time to eat and relax before class, but it wouldn’t hurt to review the notes he’d taken on American poets the last time the class had met.

“Hey,” a voice called as a guy sat across from him at the combination dining/work table. “You’re Billy, right?”

“Actually, it’s Will, but yeah, hi,” Will said, swallowing a bite of sandwich and looking across the table. A very cute blond with dazzling green eyes stared at him, hand outstretched.

“Oh, sorry, I thought it was Billy. I’m Tom. Tom Dawson. We’re in Calculus together.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you, Tom.” Will wiped his hand on his pant leg and shook Tom’s hand. “And you’re not confused about my name. I’ve been Billy Hargrove for all my life, but now that I’m in my twenties, I just don’t feel like ‘Billy’ anymore, so I’ve been working on changing it.”

“Fair enough,” Tom replied. “So is it just me, or does Calculus suck donkey dick?”

“Not just you.” Will laughed. “I’ll be happy if I can pull a C in that class.”

“Sorry, that was a bit crude, wasn’t it?” Tom asked.

“Not at all. You just spoke the truth.” Will paused, grinning. “Even if it did involve donkey dick.”

“Well, since you feel the same way about it, do you think you might like to study together sometime? I mean, if you’re hoping for a C in that class, you’re definitely doing better than me.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Will agreed. “Let’s compare schedules and see if we can figure something out.”

“Okay. Do you live here in Plymouth?” Tom asked.

“No, I’m down in Hawthorne Bluff. How about you?”

“Cool. I live in Hawthorne Bluff too. That could make this a little easier. I work part-time at the Gray Whale, mostly waiting tables and sometimes as a barback,” Tom told him. “Usually Tuesday nights and either Thursdays or Fridays and until six or seven on Saturday.”

“Really? I work just down the street from there at Bradley House B and B. I normally work three nights a week, and I’ve been known to cover parts of a weekend here and there. Nights there are typically pretty quiet, so I can get my studying done,” Will said. “Maybe we could meet up there. I’m sure my boss wouldn’t mind.”

They settled on a couple of dates, exchanged phone numbers so they could text, and headed off to their next classes: Will to English and Tom to American history.

As Will left the college in North Plymouth to head to work at the B he was extremely happy that Tom had noticed him. Studying with a great-looking guy like Tom could end up being the high point of the semester.

Will pulled into the small parking lot on the side of the guest house, grabbing his backpack as he exited his Honda CR-V. He was extremely thankful to work there with a great boss like Clay.

“Hey, Kate,” he greeted the woman behind the front desk. Kate Spooner worked three days a week at Bradley House while her kids were in school. “Anything going on?”

“Not really,” she answered. “It’s been kind of quiet. The highlight of my day was when the couple staying in room two asked me to make a reservation at Tavino’s for them tonight.”

“Okay, good. I’m hoping I have some time to study tonight.”

“I’m sure you will.” She stood up and donned a light jacket. “Okay, I’m off to get the kiddos. See you later.”

Will moved behind the counter and peered into Clay’s office, hoping to find him there. But the room was empty, so he hung his jacket in one of the lockers along the right wall and returned to the desk with his backpack. As he unloaded both his English and Calculus 101 books, he saw Clay descend the front staircase.

“Hey, boss, what’s going on?”

“Not much, Billy. Good day at school?”

“So-so. Don’t get me started on Calculus.” He grinned. “Can I ask a favor?” Clay raised a brow. “Can you call me Will from now on? I haven’t talked to my mom about it yet, but I think I’ve outgrown Billy and want to start going by Will now.”

“Sure, Will. And for what it’s worth, I think it suits you.”

Will smiled and said, “Thanks. By the way, I have a question.”

“Sure,” Clay said.

“Would it be okay if a friend of mine comes by some nights when I’m working so that we can study together? I’ll still do my job and everything, but since calculus is kicking his butt too, we thought that studying together might help.”

“Of course,” Clay said. “I trust you and know you won’t let things get out of hand.”

“Thanks. He lives in town, and we got to talking today. We’re trying to set up some study times that work around our schedules. He works at the Whale,” Will added, referring to the tavern located down the street.

“What’s his name?” Clay asked.

“Tom Dawson. Why?”

“Twenties, blond, good-looking?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Will grinned. “Do you know him?”

“I don’t really know him, but I’ve seen him at the Whale before. He waits tables, and I know he helps out at the bar when they’re slammed.”

“Well, thanks, Clay. I’ll text him and finalize which nights we can study together.”

“Fine. I’m heading out to run a couple of errands, then I’m meeting Finn for dinner. I’ll see you later.” Clay had recently started dating Finn Reynolds, and it looked to Will like the romance was blossoming.

“Enjoy. And don’t forget to use protection.” Will could be such a smart-ass when he wanted to be.

Laughing, Clay shot him a one-fingered salute as he headed out the door.