Chapter 3
Chapter Three
BOWEN
Velvet was as beautiful as she sounded. Actually more.
We’d spent the last hour traipsing over the grounds of UVA—from the Rotunda, to Scott Stadium, to Beta Bridge.
My nerves grew more taut every second I was with her.
Velvet’s eyes were this unreal shade of green, her skin smooth like glass, and her blond, chin-length bob—a style I’d seen on plenty of women this summer—looked next level on her.
And that was just her beauty from the neck up.
My gaze dropped, checking out her gorgeous long legs. Again. I couldn’t stop, thanks to her outfit. I sent up a quick prayer. Thank you, God, for this incredibly smart, adorably sexy girl who took a chance on my toes. And thank you for those legs, I added quickly. Amen.
Was it okay to use the word sexy in a prayer? I didn’t know, but it was honest. Everything about her was sexy, and the best part? She had no idea what she was doing to me.
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat like she was about to give a very important speech and read the fourth clue:
“Walk apart but still be heard,
Where stone repeats your every word.
Stand at the curve and spill one truth—
A secret for a secret. One from each of you.”
She peeked up at me, cheeks flushing just as they had every time we’d made eye contact. “Any guesses?”
I stared at her, transfixed by the way her lashes fanned out at the corners. She asked you a question, dweeb. But I couldn’t remember what it was. I clicked my tongue. “I got nothing.”
She shook the paper, eyes dancing. “It’s the Whispering Wall. How could you not know that?”
I rubbed my chin, reading the clue again, no idea what the Whispering Wall even was. “Guess I should’ve gotten that from the part about stone repeating your every word.”
She tried not to smile. “The only one you got so far was the clue about The Rotunda.” Which anyone who’d read a pamphlet about the campus would’ve gotten. It was that easy. She tilted her head, scrutinizing me.
I was about to blurt that I was an incoming freshman when her brows shot up. “You’re not a UVA student, are you? Do you go to the community college?”
It wasn’t at all what I’d expected, and I couldn’t tell how she felt about that. But now I was curious. “Would it bother you if I said yes?”
She rolled her eyes. “For saving tens of thousands of dollars? Unlike my fellow Cavaliers, who are going to be ridiculously in debt when they start their illustrious careers as…elementary school teachers?” She smiled, and it stole my air. “Not hardly.”
A text came through on my phone but I hardly noticed, I was so busy watching her.
“I think your butt is vibrating again,” she said. “Maybe you should answer it.”
I chuckled. “Sorry. It’s my buddy from earlier.”
“The one with leprosy?” She giggled.
The sound made a laugh bubble in my chest. “Yeah. I’m going to respond real quick so he’ll stop texting.” I already knew it was Fletch. If I was on a date, he wanted a play-by-play.
“No worries. I have someone I need to text too.” She rifled through her purse, searching for her cell. Then she stepped off the sidewalk and onto the grass, typing furiously.
I didn’t want to look away for one second, but Fletch wouldn’t quit until I responded.
Fletcher
Is she as cute as you hoped?
My date is a solid meh.
He should be grateful any girl wanted him after what he’d done to his feet.
Fletcher
Just shoot me a number letting me know how your date is going. 1—being this was a waste of time, 10—being you’d watch a romcom for her. Unironically.
25
I think I’m on a date with my wife.
I stared at that last word, finger hovering over send.
I was eighteen years old. I had no business saying that about a girl I’d known for an hour.
But then I glanced up at Velvet—long legs crossed at the ankles, brows pinched like she was defusing a bomb.
There was just something about her. About the way I felt simply being with her. I sent the message.
Fletcher
Who is this and what did you do with Bowen’s body?
I demand you return his soul immediately! Don’t make me track you across the galaxy! Find another host—you tentacle-faced, cosmic parasite!
I snorted.
It’s me, igitard.
Fletcher
Oh, it is you. DUDE. I need details. Better yet, send me a pic.
I’m not taking a pic. That’s creepy. I don’t even know her name yet.
Don’t even know if she likes me.
Fletcher
She does. Every girl likes you. And if she’s not persuaded by your stupidly pretty eyes, she will be when she hears your last name.
Yeah. Because everyone wants to be loved for their connections and not for who they actually are.
But that was the best part about Velvet.
Her dad was some higher up in the military.
Raised overseas, she’d hardly set foot on U.S.
soil until she came here for college two years ago.
She graduated from an American high school in Okinawa, where they have ‘the best ramen in the world.’ She didn’t know anything about the NFL, couldn’t name a single country song that wasn’t sung by Tim McGraw, and her favorite books were regency romances—not spy novels.
So unlike the majority of girls—probably on this campus even—no recognition flashed in her eyes when she saw me for the first time.
Velvet slid her phone back into her purse and stepped back onto the sidewalk.
Gotta go. Destiny calls.
“Never fear, 167. I shall be your tour guide.” She grabbed my hand, pulling me behind her.
This girl had no idea what she was doing to me—her laugh, her legs, her touch.
She dropped my hand too quickly. But she stepped closer, matching my stride.
“Tell me something about yourself. You’ve been skillfully dodging any and all personal questions. ”
“That’s because you’re so interesting. I can’t believe you speak German and French fluently.” I put my hands in a prayer pose, trying to get as much time with her as I could before she figured out my last name. “Say something in French.”
She gave me a sideways glance. “What language did you learn in high school?”
“Spanish? But don’t ask me to say anything other than dónde está el bano?”
That won me a laugh. “Hmm. Okay, then.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “Si c'est ca que ressent la serendipité, alors je suis croyante.”
My head gave a little shake. I’d thought she was sexy before, but hearing her speak French made sexy feel like an understatement. “I caught serendipity. Right?”
“Yes.” She smiled but she seemed nervous to admit anything more.
“Tell me the rest?” I winked.
She blinked a couple of times like her brain was buffering. “Does your mom always give you what you want?”
“U-uh,” I stammered. “Definitely not. Why?
“Because with those eyes and that face, I would.” She winced. “In a purely innocent way.” She narrowed her eyes. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Didn’t even go there.” I laughed. “My dad and my brother have the same eyes, so my mom’s immune to them.”
“Doubtful.” When she glanced ahead, her expression brightened. “Oh, we’re here.”
A curved wall of marble about fifteen feet long was waiting for us.
“The Whispering Wall was built in the ’30s, courtesy of Roosevelt’s New Deal,” she said in a tour guide voice. “Wild acoustics. You’ll see. You go to the other side—” she pointed “—and we’ll unravel each other’s deepest darkest secrets.”
She shooed me like I was hers to command—and I went, grinning like an idiot. I didn’t usually like girls bossing me around. But I didn’t mind with her.
“Have a seat, Gray Eyes,” she said from the far end of the stone bench. “Tell me something juicy. Something that makes you want to squirm as you say it.” She propped her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands, batting her lashes while she waited.
Man, she was gorgeous. The effortless kind. Her personality was so stunning that she glowed from the inside out.
I turned to face her and tipped my mouth toward the wall. “This is called a parabolic arc,” I whispered.
“Pfft,” she whispered back. “That is not a secret.”
“So you’re saying you already knew that?”
“I’m the tour guide, aren’t I? Now stop trying to get out of the task at hand.” She tapped her finger against the bench, eyes wide, censuring me. It was so cute. “Tell me something that might be a touch scandalous.” She pointed at me. “But keep it clean. PG rated.”
“Scandalous and PG-rated?” I asked, thinking. Ten seconds later, I admitted, “I got nothing.”
She shook her head. “Are you always this closed off?”
“Yes.” I laughed.
But she didn’t. A shadow of disappointment crossed her face. “What are you afraid of? That I won’t like you once I get to know you?”
“No.” I exhaled slowly. “I’m afraid you will, for the wrong reasons.”
“Oh,” she said so quietly the wall almost didn’t pick it up. I could see her trying to figure out what that meant. “Well, ask me something then. I’ll tell you whatever you want.” She wagged her finger. “Except for my name.”
“All right.” I rubbed my hands over my thighs. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do but you’d never have the guts to actually go through with it?”
“Pierce my navel,” she said without missing a beat. “My dad would kill me. It’s too bad.” She sighed. “I have a really cute belly button.”
Dang. Now I wanted to ask to see it, but that was way too forward for a first date. “Do you always do what your dad wants?”
She toyed with the fray on the hem of her skirt. “It’s just hard. He’s…” I could feel her editing her words carefully. “He’s been through a lot. I hate seeing him sad.”
“So you sacrifice what you want to save him from any further pain.” I blew out my breath. “I understand that.”
Her brows raised. “You do?”
“Yeah.” But I couldn’t say why, even if this date felt like the start of something. Being a Dupree meant always carefully choosing your words. In case things went south, I needed to paint my family in the best light possible. I slapped my hands on my knees. “You should pierce your belly button.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right.”
I cocked my head to the side, holding her gaze. “I will if you will.”
“Seriously? You’d pierce your navel?”
“No.” I chuckled. “I was thinking of a vertical eyebrow piercing. That would be hot, right?”
“The man bun with a brow piercing?” She fanned herself.
“Let’s do it.” I grinned. My dad would lose his mind, but I had the sudden urge to be spontaneous. “Something to remember our first date by?”
Her mouth parted like she was a little stunned. “You’d let someone shove a hook through your eyebrow for me? A random girl whose name you don’t even know?”
“There’s nothing random about you,” I said, not realizing how bold it sounded until it was out. She blushed and I didn’t even try to hide my smirk. I gestured at the campus around us. “Wah-hoo-wah.” It was the UVA rally cry.
She closed her eyes and smiled. “Wah-hoo-wah. Let’s do it.” She tapped the paper with the instructions. “Do we want to finish this first, though?”
My gaze burned into her. “Absolutely. We’re not stopping until we finish the last clue.”
Nothing was keeping me from that kiss.
And I mean nothing.