Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
LILY
Present Day
“Just breathe,” the redhead said, rubbing a soothing hand over her friend’s back. I recognized her and the blond. We were in the same Human Personality course last year.
The blond wiped away tears. “I’m sorry. I just … got overwhelmed. It’s a lot.”
“I know.” Her friend patted. “But we’ve got this. We can do this.”
Sympathy coursed through me as I turned away so they didn’t catch me being nosy. The first week of fourth year was overwhelming.
We had an eight-thousand-word dissertation to write this year, advanced option courses, and two compulsory courses to take.
I was the weirdo who wasn’t, in fact, overwhelmed with the workload.
I liked knowing what was expected of me, so I could schedule it all out.
I might be a wee bit more stressed out if I didn’t have it so cushy with my podcast job.
The girls and I were able to cover for one another when things were too busy.
And honestly, I was relieved Jan and Aiysha were joining the podcast this year. I was weary of dating. So bloody weary. And yet I had to for the show. This year, however, maybe I’d get to take a break from the revolving door of zero-chemistry dates I’d found myself on for the past few years.
Thankfully, I’d quit my tutoring job at the library.
However, I had promised Mum—the university’s head librarian—I’d help her out whenever I could, and she’d pay me for hours worked rather than a set salary.
It was nice to be able to see her whenever I wanted, and I was happy I’d still get some opportunity to this year.
I scanned the notice board in the main entrance of the psychology building, looking for the sign-up sheet I’d been told was pinned here.
It had tickled me that the sign-up form wasn’t digital until I discovered the psych experiment was being run by Arthur Banks, a teaching assistant who was a postgrad student.
He’d been the teaching assistant in my Thinking and Reasoning course last year and he abhorred modern technology.
I suspected his abhorrence was more about being thought of as eccentric than actual loathing for the digital world.
There was no information on what the experiment was, other than it was a social psychology experiment.
Considering I was writing my dissertation on the impact of social media on self-esteem across genders, a social psych experiment was in my wheelhouse.
Did I already have enough on my plate? Yes.
But I’d most likely be running my own experiments in grad school and I considered this research for that.
I was reaching into my bag for a pen when someone drew up beside me.
Lifting my head, I tensed.
Sebastian.
He stood far too close and peered at me like I was something in a petri dish.
“What?” I snapped.
“Give me five minutes.” Sebastian leaned in, his cologne tickling my senses, a woodsy spice that just a few months ago made me want to rip off his clothes. Now I’d quite like to find the bottle of surely expensive fragrance and stick it where the sun didn’t shine.
“Goodbye, Sebastian.” I turned from him, reaching up to sign my name on the form.
“Lily, please. Just give me a chance to explain.”
“Explain what exactly?” I capped the pen and dropped it in my bag, not meeting his eyes. “That you are a bully, a snake, a wee turd.”
“Turd?” Laughter trembled in the word, and I glowered up at him.
“Do you think this is funny?”
His lips twitched. “You calling anyone a turd is extremely amusing.”
“What does that mean? That I’m a turd so I shouldn’t be throwing turd stones?”
“No!” He reached for me, and I flinched away from his touch. Exasperated, he snarled, “Goddamn it, Lily, don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Easy fix to that—don’t talk to me. Ever again.” I marched away, infuriated that my legs were shaking as they hurried me from this arsehole who had somehow managed to make me feel as small as the arseholes who had come before him.
“Lily!”
I stuck my middle finger up without looking back, even as my mind flashed me backward in time …
Last Semester
With our busy lives, I hadn’t seen much of my cousin Beth in real life.
We’d texted and called, but it had been a while since we’d had a face-to-face.
Therefore, I was delighted when she stopped by the library for a quick catch-up.
Beth wasn’t technically my real cousin. Our parents were best friends, so we’d grown up like cousins.
She was more like a big sister I looked up to and admired.
Confident, smart, kind. Beth walked into a room, and everyone stopped to stare.
I didn’t mind she was an attention hog because it wasn’t intentional. In fact, I was pretty sure Beth was oblivious to her effect on people.
We chatted about the podcast and the rivalry, and we talked a little about family and how much Beth worked.
Mum told me Aunt Joss, Beth’s mum, was worried Beth worked too hard.
That she lived to work and not worked to live.
When I diplomatically touched on the subject, Beth waved off my concerns.
I worried about how driven she was. That one day she’d hit burnout and hit it so hard, it would incapacitate her.
Ambitious people usually were the last to realize their minds and bodies needed a rest because they genuinely enjoyed the challenge of hard work.
While I prodded about her career, we were interrupted.
By the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. And he was looking at me and not my stunning cousin with her tip-tilted blue eyes and leggy blond beauty.
“Are you Lily Sawyer?” he’d asked in an upper-class English accent that was not uncommon around the university campus, considering how many wealthy students from the south of England attended.
We referred to upper-class students as toffs.
Now that I thought about it, I wondered if that was an offensive word. I’d need to look up its origins.
This toff appeared to be around my age and towered over us in all his blond godlike gorgeousness, wearing a T-shirt with one of my favorite bands on it. Kaleo.
I gaped at him, confused why he’d said my name.
“Is she Lily Sawyer?” he asked Beth.
I was trying to catch up. One minute I’d been grilling Beth about how hard she was working and the next this … this … Dior model was interrupting us.
“Who’s asking?” Beth inquired with a teasing smile on her beautiful face that would make most men fall to their knees in worship.
He shockingly turned to me instead. “The person paying for a tutoring session.”
What a deeply erotic voice he had. All rumbly and plummy Etonian English. Bloody hell, a woman could come to that voice alone.
My cheeks burned at the thought, and I’d never been more grateful I wasn’t a blusher. I licked my lips nervously as I realized this was the person who had signed up for today’s tutoring session. “You’re Sebastian Thorne?”
Please say no.
“At your service.” He gave me a sardonic bow of his head while I contemplated what kind of dirty services he could provide.
Mentally swatting my filthy thoughts away, I embarrassingly tripped over my words. “A-and you n-need help?”
Great. I was fourteen again and unable to speak to a cute boy without stuttering with anxiety.
“In more ways than one.” Sebastian frowned at me. Almost suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re Lily Sawyer?”
“I’m Lily Sawyer. Lily Sawyer is me. I have ID if you want.”
What?
Oh, dear God, bury me six feet under now.
“I have ID if you want.”
I was tragic. I was an actual tragedy.
His lips twitched like he found me amusing. Wonderful. Just wonderful. “Not necessary.” Then he stared at me.
At me.
Like … I was interesting.
Or a specimen.
It could have been either.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll talk to you later, Lily.” Beth abruptly stood and my heart sank at the thought of being left alone with the Adonis.
“But—”
“Nice to meet you, Sebastian.” She cut me off and sent me a conspiratorial smile before walking away.
And Sebastian … He didn’t even look at her.
He was too busy studying me.
Lily Sawyer, get yourself together now! So, he’s gorgeous. You’ve met gorgeous men before. You’ve even dated one or two of them.
Okay, so they weren’t this level of hot, but they were cute.
I could do this.
Be professional.
Reaching for my books, I snatched them up, using them to cover my stomach as I stood.
Maddie had talked me into buying a cropped sweater and I’d paired it with jeans this morning.
When I left the flat, I’d felt good about the outfit, but as the day wore on, I became increasingly self-conscious of the flashes of skin it revealed.
I wasn’t toned to the hilt like Maddie who worked out every other day or naturally skinny like Sierra.
I was what January called lush. I rode my bike everywhere, which kept me physically fit, but I was soft and curvy.
I’d been called fat a few times in my life and, unfortunately, that crap stuck to the brain like a leech.
Why, oh why, did I have to be wearing this stupid cropped top the day I met Sebastian Thorne?
Like he’d ever be interested in you, the snotty voice of my low self-esteem taunted me as I led him through the library to the study room my mum had given me the key to.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow as I led him inside. “These are like gold around here. How did you manage to get one?” He dropped his books on the table of the small room.
“My mum is head librarian.” I mentally patted myself on the back for losing the stutter as I took a seat and gestured for him to do the same.
Sebastian’s brow furrowed as he sat adjacent to me. His masculine cologne hit my senses, making my belly flutter. “I think I know who you mean. You have her coloring.”
I nodded because I did have Mum’s dark hair, olive skin, and hazel eyes. My dad also had dark hair and olive skin, so it was a crapshoot which of them bestowed those on me. The hazel eyes were definitely from Mum, though.