“I know. It’s fine. Really.” Her smile warmed his heart as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before standing to leave. But he grabbed her hand before she could go.
“You don’t have to leave. You can still stay,” he said, “and hang out for a bit.”
All the self-loathing and sadness had evaporated ever since Corrie had stepped into his tent. Funny how someone who’d previously had the effect of irritating him now calmed his entire being. Though, if Ford was truly being honest with himself, it had never really been about being irritated by her. It had always been the tension of not being able to have her.
She smiled and said, “Of course.”
They settled onto the bed, resting on their sides and talking. Talking about the dig. About his mom. Laughing about silly things that made him forget that hours earlier he’d been crying. But that was how things went with her. Hours passing in a blink. Easy conversation. Just like every time they’d ever been alone.
He couldn’t help but admire her when she talked, and not just because she was breathtakingly gorgeous. Even aside from that, the woman had bravado and class. And she was fucking hilarious. Ford’s sides hurt from all the laughing, his mouth from all the smiling. Not only that, but also her mannerisms. Like the way she tapped the tips of her fingers together in the air while she spoke. And the way she flipped over on the bed and leaned in whenever she got excited. He especially liked how animated she’d get when acting out a story.
He’d never met anyone like her. Seriously . . . anyone who’d ever spent a night talking and telling stories in bed with Corrie Mejía no doubt walked away from the experience completely head over heels for her, if they weren’t obsessed with her already. Ford’s insides tingled, warming his body as the evening wore on, when it finally hit him.
I’m wild about this woman.
Ford didn’t do wild. He’d never been wild about anyone in his life. Although there’d been a flicker there once before.
And Corrie must have had the same thought.
“Why didn’t you kiss me that night?” she asked.
The question came out of nowhere, but Ford knew exactly what she was referring to—the library. He’d asked himself that question—and dozens of variations—a thousand times. They’d been close. Only inches apart. Close enough he’d been able to smell that coconut of her hair with the coffee on her breath. Was it bad that whenever Addy had gotten a coconut milk latte all he could think of was Corrie?
“The library was closing.”
Oof. His response came out even worse than he’d planned. Worse than he’d rehearsed in his head all those years. And, sure, it was the truth. Had the librarian not barged in to tell them to leave, he would have kissed Corrie. But his response didn’t tell the full story.
“Wow . . .” she said, propping her head in her hand. “Remind me never to go to the library with you again near closing time. Don’t want you to break the rules.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said.
“Well, then, what did you mean, Dr. Matthews? Pray tell,” she said, rolling onto her stomach and propping her head in her hands with her elbows on the bed like a teenager at a slumber party.
He leaned to his side facing her, lifting his head as he spoke. “I mean . . . yes, it was because the library was closing, but once we’d gotten outside I thought . . . I thought the moment had passed and that it would be awkward if I moved in for the kill. And, honestly, I wasn’t sure you even liked me.”
“Didn’t like you? Do you not remember standing outside for fifteen minutes after closing? I was waiting for you to make a move.”
“Yeah . . .” he drew out. “I realized that after I got home. Trust me . . . I kicked myself for that one.”
She sighed and flipped onto her back, resting her head on the pillow. “And that was it. Our one opportunity for us to have gone down a different road, and neither of us even sought the other out after that.”
“That’s not true.”
Her eyes perked up.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Corrie . . . the only reason I went to that gala was because you were going to be there.”
She propped herself up again. “Funny, because I remember you sucking face with Addison Crawley that night.” She pursed her lips and quirked her brow, but her tone was still playful.
But after all these years . . . all this time knowing she had the wrong idea, Ford needed to set things straight.
“She kissed me. I went looking for you.”
The memory of Corrie finding them kissing in the alcove was firmly etched in his head. Her incredulous wide brown eyes. Her red dress hugging her gorgeous curves. Her matching red lips, trembling as if the sight of his lips on another woman genuinely crushed her soul. And not any woman, but Addison Crawley—the reason Corrie had gone to the gala in the first place. To schmooze Addison and hopefully boost her chances with Dr. Crawley at Yale.
Except Corrie never got that opportunity to schmooze. Not after Ford had unintentionally gotten to Addison first. He knew how it had probably looked from Corrie’s perspective. She’d told him her plan to network with Addison at the gala when they’d whispered about their hopes and dreams in the library. At the time, Ford had no intention of going himself. Two days later, though, he’d gone in search of Corrie. But to Corrie, it looked like he’d gone to steal her plan. And given that his later relationship with Addison had sealed the deal for his job with Dr. Crawley, it was a plan that had appeared to work, cementing Corrie’s hatred for him.
“You crushed me that night, Ford. I thought I’d been wrong about you. I thought I might actually like you. And then you did that . . .” This time her voice wasn’t quite so jovial. The hurt was obvious.
“I know . . . I know how it looks,” he said. “I’d actually tried avoiding her once I realized who she was, but she kept finding me at the party. I guess she thought I was playing hard to get. Thought I was a challenge that needed conquering. But, Corrie, honest to God, I did not go there for her. And we didn’t start dating until four weeks later, after I had confirmation that there was no saving what you and I had in the library. I never intended what happened with her.”
Her brows knitted together. “Wait . . . four weeks?” She stared off as if trying to piece it together, then looked straight at him. “Then how did you get the fellowship?”
Again, he knew how it looked to Corrie, especially when Dr. Crawley had originally planned to attend her dissertation defense during that four-week period but had been a no-show. Put together his making out with Addison and Dr. Crawley’s no-show appearance and, yes, it had probably looked like Ford had something to do with it. But he hadn’t.
“I don’t know why Dr. Crawley didn’t attend your dissertation, I swear. I didn’t even see or speak to Addison again until the week after. But she took me to her parents’ house to meet them for lunch shortly after we began dating, and he brought up the fellowship and how he’d been eyeing some people, but how he didn’t have time for interviews, and then Addison asked him what about me, and suddenly we were in his study talking, and . . . and . . . honestly, Corrie, it all happened so fast,” he rambled.