Winter (Four Seasons #1) (6 page)

He peers over
his glasses at me, the lenses scuffed from where he habitually puts
them down the wrong way. “I know you won’t. You’re too stubborn for
that.”

******

Noah Richards
doesn’t sound like an Irish name. He doesn’t look Irish either; no
ginger hair; not a single freckle in sight. Slightly wavy locks of
dark brown hair poke out from beneath a beanie pulled down tight
over his ears. Light grey eyes and a wicked smile. He looks cramped
folded up into his desk, so he’s probably quite tall. I recognize
two other guys from class talking animatedly with him, sitting on
top of their desks as I unwillingly trudge over toward them. Noah
stops talking when he sees me heading over and the others quickly
followed his gaze. I know how guys look at me sometimes, but I can
usually avoid acknowledging it. Mostly, it happens in the hallways
and I can keep my head down and pretend I don’t notice. It’s much
harder to ignore when I have to approach them and talk to them
directly, however.

Noah sits up
straighter as I arrive, tugging on his beanie. I look at the other
two guys, wondering if they’re going to continue sitting there when
it’s obvious I want to talk to Noah. Yes. Yes, apparently they
are.

“
Uh…” I
swallow and do my best to meet Noah’s eyes. “You’re the exchange
student, right?”

“
Yeah, Ah am.”
His accent isn’t what I was expecting. It isn’t strong or over
pronounced, just a faint lilt. He flashes me that wicked reprobate
smile, but his eyes seem kind. He isn’t picking me apart like the
other two are. “Ah’m Noah. This is Freddie and Kyle. They’re the
lucky bastards putting me up this semester.”

I know who
they are. I saw them at the party the other night with Morgan. The
guy on the left, Freddie, was the make-out guy I kept getting
shoved up against. “Right. You’re in the same frat as Tate,” I say.
“The ceilidh.” The whole Irish party thing makes more sense now.
They must have held it in Noah’s honor.

Noah’s eyes
shine a little and his smile grows wider. “Good pronunciation.” He
holds out his hand. “And you are?”

“
Avery,” I
blurt out, kicking myself for not introducing myself.
I am Avery, queen of Columbia University!
Everyone surely already knows my fake ass name!
Such an idiot. “I’m Avery Patterson.” He gives me a firm
handshake, which is nice considering most guys think they’ll crush
your bones if they squeeze too hard. Dad always warned me never to
trust a guy with a limp handshake. If he were around, he would have
approved of Noah’s.

“
Nice to meet
you, Avery.”

“
Likewise.”
Get to the point, Avery.
Get to the point
. “I…Professor Lang said
you might need some company. I just wanted to offer my
services.”

Freddie and
Kyle both start snickering openly. I realize too late that what I’d
said could be taken salaciously, especially if you are a moronic
nineteen-year-old guy.

“
I didn’t
mean…
ugh!
” I
glance back over my shoulder to see Professor Lang watching on
approvingly. At least I can stammer out another couple of words and
leave and he will know I’ve done as he suggested. Noah is looking
at the professor when I turn back to him, chewing the cap of his
biro. His eyes narrow. “This is a punishment, ain’t it?”

“
Uh, no. I
mean, I know what it’s like to not know anyone—”

“
Ha!” Kyle
reaches over and slaps Noah’s arm. “Are you kidding? This guy
already
knows
half
the female populous of Columbia.” He makes a point of gazing off
into space. “Man, what I wouldn’t give for an Irish
accent.”

“
Shut your
mouth, Kyle,” Noah laughs. It’s a joking command but Kyle obeys all
the same. “I’ve not had any problems settling in thanks, Avery
Patterson, but if you want to study or hang out sometime, I’m all
in.”

Both Kyle and
Freddie manage not to laugh this time, but I can tell it’s killing
them. I really didn’t expect Noah to say that. I’d expected him to
brush me off and make a joke out of my awkward offer as soon as my
back was turned. He seems completely genuine. I’ll know for sure
when I turn and make my way to my seat at the front of the
class.

“
Okay, well
great.” I give him my best
‘I’m normal, I
swear’
smile and take my leave.

No laughing.
Or none that I can hear, anyway. As class commences, I allow myself
to look over once to see if they’re whispering behind their hands.
Kyle and Freddie are studiously taking notes. Noah is frowning out
of the window, still chewing on his pen cap.

Five

Smells Like
Sex

THREE WEEKS
pass and I don’t hear from Luke. I make up the slack in school and
do well in my midterms, despite being permanently distracted and on
edge. Brandon is joining me for Thanksgiving, which is surprising
since he hardly ever leaves the town where he grew up. I’ve booked
us an apartment on the Upper East Side
so
we’ll have a proper kitchen to cook with instead of living out of
hotel rooms. It cost a fortune but Mom really wasn’t kidding when
she said she’d increased my allowance. The difference is more than
enough to cover the accommodation and everything we will eat and
drink while he’s in town. Only three more days and I’ll get to
leave college and relax.

“
Gonna miss
ya, peaches,” Morgan tells me as we walk back from class. Snow
covers the ground now, coating everything in a four-inch layer of
grimy slush. At first I thought it would be bad business walking
outside with snow on the ground, but so far I’ve been wrong. It
turns out people are too cool for snowball fights at Columbia
University.

I tuck my arm
through Morgan’s and dip my chin into my scarf, trying to warm the
air I breathe in through the wooly material so it won’t burn my
lungs quite so badly. “I’m gonna miss you, too. You sure you don’t
want to join me and my uncle? We’re probably just going to drink
beer, eat crap and watch bad movies.”

Morgan pouts,
stomping petulantly in the snow. “You have
no
idea how much I would love that.
My mom’s a freakin’ holiday nut, though. She’d lose her shit if I
didn’t come home.” Home for Morgan is a nine-hour drive away in
Charlestown, West Virginia. New York is the farthest her mom
allowed her to move out of state, but for Morgan it isn’t far
enough.

“
You could
always catch the red eye instead of driving. That would save time
and you could have a couple of days after Thanksgiving in the city
with me after my Uncle leaves. He’s got to be back at
work.”

Morgan lets us
into our building and kicks off the snow from her boots in the
lobby. The floor is filthy and streaked with grubby track marks. A
‘WET FLOOR’ sign lays on its side in front of the elevator. It’ll
probably be stolen by some frat jerk before the day’s
out.

“
I’d love
that, Ave. Let me see if I can swing it with the ‘rents. I kinda
feel bad for Dad trapped there by himself sometimes.”

We drop by
Morgan’s apartment but her roommate has a ‘friend’ over and the
noise is ridiculous, so we go up the extra flights of stairs back
to my apartment and make ourselves comfortable. Leslie is in the
library studying but she’s left a small package and a note on the
kitchen counter.

“
Holy crap, is
that hot chocolate? Please tell me that’s hot chocolate,” Morgan
chatters, throwing herself back onto the sofa. I read the
note.

Step one:
Drink me.

Step two:
Prevent freezing of lady parts.

Step three:
Save World

L
xoxoxo

It’s a shame
that Morgan and I don’t get to share an apartment, but I really did
luck out with Leslie. Aside from the hordes of people who are
always stopping by to see her when she’s in, she’s always really
thoughtful. I swipe Morgan’s booted feet off the upholstery and
crack open the tin of hot chocolate.

“
Get your
filthy footwear off the furniture, Kepler. I take it you want some
of this, then?”

“
If it’s no
trouble. And I’m also gonna need something warm to wear, unless
you’re okay with me climbing in your bed.”

“
No!” I laugh.
“I’d rather lend you something that have you stink up my
sheets.”

Morgan looks
offended for all of three seconds, until I go to my room and
rummage around in my drawers to find a sweatshirt for her. I toss
her the very first thing I lay my hands on and go about making us
some drinks, warming some milk on the stove.

“
What
is
this?” Morgan holds up
the huge sweatshirt in front of me, and I suddenly realize what
I’ve given her: the sweatshirt Luke leant me post freak out almost
a month ago. She slips it on over her head so I see the big block
capitols on the front—
NYPD
. “Fuck, this smells good, Avery.
Why does this shirt smell like sex?”

An instant
fire burns at my cheeks. “It does
not
smell like sex!”

“
Oh yeah it
does. Or it smells like a guy I most definitely would kill to have
sex with. This is that cop dude’s, isn’t it?”

“
Wow.
Excellent powers of observation there, Sherlock. What gave it away?
Could it be the huge New York Police Department logo emblazoned
across your chest?” I stalk over to her and tug at the sweatshirt
sleeve. “Take it off. I’ll find you something else.”

“
No way!” She
bunches up the front of the sweater and holds it to her face,
inhaling deeply. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me all
day. How the hell do you have this?”

I’ve kind of
avoided telling Morgan about the night at Luke’s apartment. I don’t
like purposefully keeping things from her, but explaining the new
development with my dad isn’t something I am ready to do just
yet.

“
He loaned it
to me ages ago. I just haven’t had chance to give it
back.”

Morgan eyes me
suspiciously. “And you say there’s nothing going on with you and
this guy?”

“
No!” I turn
away from her so I can tend to our drinks, stirring
furiously.

“
In that case,
I think you should return this sweater to our lovely peace keeper
immediately, and I think you should let me come with you. It’s a
crime to let a hottie like that go to waste. Get it? A crime?” She
guffaws at her own lame joke and I pretend I haven’t heard her. I
hand over her mug and plunk myself down on my swivel chair, taking
a tentative sip.

“
Don’t ignore
me, Patterson. I’m serious. I want a shot at that guy if you’re not
taking one.”

“
He’s got a
girlfriend, I told you,” I say, training my face into a blank mask
now that I know I am flat-out lying to her. She’s ridiculously hot
and guys go crazy for her rich auburn hair coloring. There’s no
reason why Luke wouldn’t want to hook up with her, and the last
thing I need is him running around my building. I try picturing
what I’d say to him if I bumped into him in the hallways after he’d
paid her a visit. The idea of it makes me shudder.

“
What about
Tate, anyway? I thought things were good with you guys?”

Morgan purses
her lips and scowls. “I haven’t heard from him in five days. I fell
asleep with him on Sunday night. I think he’s still mad at
me.”

“
Why would he
be mad at you for falling asleep? You crash there all the
time.”

A faint smile
ticks at the corner of her mouth. She raises an eyebrow and gives
me a scandalous look. Realization dawns.

“
Oh, you fell
asleep
with
him.
While you were…?”

“
Yep.
Apparently it was the height of rudeness, especially since he was
pulling out all of his best moves at the time.”

“
Oh God,
Morgan,” I laugh, trying to suppress an all out giggling fit. “You
are probably the only person I know who could fall asleep during
sex.”

“
I’ve done it
before,” she announces. “I’m probably going to do it again. It was
his own fault, anyway. He was taking way too long down
there.”

She says this
as I’m taking a swig of my drink, and I end up spraying hot
chocolate all over the living room wall. We laugh like idiots, only
regaining our composure when my cell phone starts ringing. Morgan
wipes her eyes and leans over to collect it off the coffee table,
tossing it to me.

Unknown
number.

I frown at the
screen—One heartbeat. Two. Three—until Morgan throws a cushion at
me. “Answer it, woman, I have sensitive ears!

Morgan doesn’t
understand why I never answer calls from unknown numbers. Back in
high school it was one of my fellow classmate’s favorite pastimes
to prank me and scream ‘murder spawn’ down the phone before hanging
up. Just another thing I don’t want to have to explain. I shoot her
a hesitant look before hitting accept.