The Weight of Words (The WORDS Series) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Georgina Guthrie
wasn’t it?
Chapter 4
Some Must Watch
For some must watch, while some must sleep:
Thus runs the world away.
( Hamlet , Act III, Scene 2)
Y OU K NOW W HEN Y OU H AVE a hot dream about a guy, and then you see him, and the dream rushes back to you and it feels so real—more like a memory than a dream? That’s what happened when I walked toward the tutorial room at eight forty-five the next morning. Daniel was standing in the open doorway, and the most amazing series of risqué images flashed before my eyes. I quickly ducked into an alcove to collect my thoughts or, more accurately, to eagerly sift through the details of the dream.
Daniel had been watching me scan a bookshelf full of Shakespeare’s works. One minute he’d been suggesting books that I might like to borrow, and the next thing I knew, he was coming up behind me and pushing me up against the bookcase, his hand in my hair, his lips brushing my neck. I wasn’t sure if I’d said anything, but his voice had been hot and insistent at my ear as he slowly undressed me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Your skin is so soft.”
“Please tell me you want me as much as I want you…”
The memories sparked a hot flush. How could I walk down the hall and greet him without betraying my thoughts? On the other hand, how could I leave without seeing him? I was damned if I was going to pass up the opportunity to talk to him one on one.
I fanned my warm cheeks, took a quick cleansing breath, and then put my game face on, resuming my journey down the hall toward the seminar room. Daniel looked hotter than hell, still sporting yesterday’s five o’clock shadow, but somehow he was even more gorgeous than the day before. He was leaning casually against the doorway, one hand propped against the frame, the other stuffed in the front pocket of an ancient-looking leather jacket.
Holy hell, man. Could you be any more stunning?
Three other students from the class were standing in front of the bulletin board, pens in hand, hemming and hawing, weighing their tutorial time options. Daniel watched them impassively. Was he always so miserable? Would it kill him to smile?
I bet Penny makes him smile, I thought dismally.
I stood behind my three indecisive classmates, waiting for them to finish and move the hell out of the way. As I peered impatiently over their shoulders, I noticed Daniel had taken the time to make new sign-up sheets. All three pages were crisp and clean, pinned to the cork board in a neat row.
The three stooges in front of me finally got their shit together, signed up for the Wednesday time slot, and moved away down the hall. I stepped forward, finding all fourteen spots on Friday available. A few keen people had already signed up for the Monday and Wednesday tutorials. I was beginning to wonder where Julie was and whether I should call or text her when Daniel moved from his post at the door, taking a few slow steps toward me.
“You’re Miss Price, right?” His voice was smooth and silky.
“That’s right. You have a good memory.” I flashed what I hoped was a fabulous smile. “Aubrey Price,” I said, and as I spoke—I had to do it—I reached out, offering a handshake.
He glanced at my outstretched hand, and I thought for a second he might refuse my gesture, but then his palm pressed warmly against mine. It sent a surge of heat through me—not a jolt like an electric shock or anything ridiculous like that—but more like a wave, a slow moving but eventually all-encompassing surge of warmth, which turned my brain, among other things, to jelly. An image of his fingers curling around mine as he pushed me against that bookshelf made my knees weak.
“Well, Miss Price, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, reclaiming his hand and entirely ignoring my first name.
“You can call me Aubrey,” I said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. It’s quite unique.”
“I was named after my grandmother. It’s a bit
Chapter 4
Some Must Watch
For some must watch, while some must sleep:
Thus runs the world away.
( Hamlet , Act III, Scene 2)
Y OU K NOW W HEN Y OU H AVE a hot dream about a guy, and then you see him, and the dream rushes back to you and it feels so real—more like a memory than a dream? That’s what happened when I walked toward the tutorial room at eight forty-five the next morning. Daniel was standing in the open doorway, and the most amazing series of risqué images flashed before my eyes. I quickly ducked into an alcove to collect my thoughts or, more accurately, to eagerly sift through the details of the dream.
Daniel had been watching me scan a bookshelf full of Shakespeare’s works. One minute he’d been suggesting books that I might like to borrow, and the next thing I knew, he was coming up behind me and pushing me up against the bookcase, his hand in my hair, his lips brushing my neck. I wasn’t sure if I’d said anything, but his voice had been hot and insistent at my ear as he slowly undressed me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“Your skin is so soft.”
“Please tell me you want me as much as I want you…”
The memories sparked a hot flush. How could I walk down the hall and greet him without betraying my thoughts? On the other hand, how could I leave without seeing him? I was damned if I was going to pass up the opportunity to talk to him one on one.
I fanned my warm cheeks, took a quick cleansing breath, and then put my game face on, resuming my journey down the hall toward the seminar room. Daniel looked hotter than hell, still sporting yesterday’s five o’clock shadow, but somehow he was even more gorgeous than the day before. He was leaning casually against the doorway, one hand propped against the frame, the other stuffed in the front pocket of an ancient-looking leather jacket.
Holy hell, man. Could you be any more stunning?
Three other students from the class were standing in front of the bulletin board, pens in hand, hemming and hawing, weighing their tutorial time options. Daniel watched them impassively. Was he always so miserable? Would it kill him to smile?
I bet Penny makes him smile, I thought dismally.
I stood behind my three indecisive classmates, waiting for them to finish and move the hell out of the way. As I peered impatiently over their shoulders, I noticed Daniel had taken the time to make new sign-up sheets. All three pages were crisp and clean, pinned to the cork board in a neat row.
The three stooges in front of me finally got their shit together, signed up for the Wednesday time slot, and moved away down the hall. I stepped forward, finding all fourteen spots on Friday available. A few keen people had already signed up for the Monday and Wednesday tutorials. I was beginning to wonder where Julie was and whether I should call or text her when Daniel moved from his post at the door, taking a few slow steps toward me.
“You’re Miss Price, right?” His voice was smooth and silky.
“That’s right. You have a good memory.” I flashed what I hoped was a fabulous smile. “Aubrey Price,” I said, and as I spoke—I had to do it—I reached out, offering a handshake.
He glanced at my outstretched hand, and I thought for a second he might refuse my gesture, but then his palm pressed warmly against mine. It sent a surge of heat through me—not a jolt like an electric shock or anything ridiculous like that—but more like a wave, a slow moving but eventually all-encompassing surge of warmth, which turned my brain, among other things, to jelly. An image of his fingers curling around mine as he pushed me against that bookshelf made my knees weak.
“Well, Miss Price, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, reclaiming his hand and entirely ignoring my first name.
“You can call me Aubrey,” I said.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name before. It’s quite unique.”
“I was named after my grandmother. It’s a bit
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