His waves are damp, and the water weighs it down a little. The more it dries, the bouncier it looks. “Hey,” I say, taking a seat. God, he smells good. “This is great service.”
He looks at the mugs. “It’s relatively early, and I know how cranky you get when you haven’t had caffeine.”
There was a lot in the cappuccino but I’m not going to say anything. It’s sweet of him to have a drink waiting.
“My hero.”
His lips quirk. “You got done whatever you needed to do this morning?”
I lean back against the sofa, knowing he’s fishing. “Yep, nothing fun. How long does it take you to shower now? Your massive movie star head take some extra washing?”
Rolling his eyes, he passes me the remote. “What are we watching?”
“Top Gun.”
“Oh, a new one,” he says sarcastically.
We’ve watched it about thirty times before.
“It’s a classic.”
He throws his arm over the back of the sofa, almost around me. “You don’t need to add planes to romance so I’ll watch it, Indie. I’ll sit through whatever you want.”
“Sweet. Although I know you’ll moan during the whole thing. Do you remember when we watched 27 Dresses?”
He groans at the memory. “Fuck, that was ridiculous. Top Gun, it is.”
I lean against his side and find the movie on his recorded shows. We spend the whole day lounging in front of the TV. It’s my idea of perfection, and nothing can wipe the smile off my face.
Fourteen
Spencer
14“So, this is uni,” I say as we walk through an old building to the classroom we’re not due at for another fifteen minutes. There aren’t many people about, but a few of them do a double take when they see me. I smile politely without stopping.
It’s a tiny university with pretty architecture, a big library, and open spaces that suit Indie.
“This is it,” she replies.
“And you always show up early?”
“Yes.”
“You’re such a geek.”
She playfully slaps my arm. “If you’re going to tease me the whole time, you can leave now.”
“And miss a chance to see you in this environment? Not a chance. I’ll behave.”
“Put your sunglasses on. People keep staring at you.”
“You’re making me self-conscious.”
“With a hundred pairs of eyes on you, each one bidding to be in your bed tonight, you feel self-conscious?”
There is nowhere near a hundred people in these corridors.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Now, now, Indie. The only one joining me in bed tonight is that fucking awful stuffed cow you gave me when we first met outside the library.”
“You were crying, and I wanted to make you feel better.”
“I was eleven and had just fractured my arm.”
She shrugs. “You stopped crying.”
That was because I saw her, not the stuffed cow she was holding out. I’ve had the damn thing with me every night since.
“Well, I wasn’t going to cry forever, was I?”
“Shut up, you love Tiger.”
I shake my head. “Who names a cow Tiger?”
“Here we are,” she says, pulling me through a door.
The room is small with ten double tables spaced out. On the walls are noticeboards filled with course-related material that I have no desire to read. I’m not here to learn.
It smells like books and coffee.
“Indie, what a surprise,” the lecturer says, his tone full of sarcasm.
I look him over. He’s a man with a neat beard and dickhead braces. He looks after himself. The only thing that gives away his age is the greying hair.
Indie’s cheeks turn pink, and she dips her head. What’s that about? I don’t know if that’s because I’m here or because she fancies her lecturer. Surely she’s not going to fall for an old man with chinos and an organic coffee bean addiction?
I fold my arms. He looks like a hipster thrown into a time warp.
“Grant, this is my friend Spencer. Spence, this is Grant, the best lecturer in the world.”
Grant smiles. “That won’t push up your grade.”
“Damn it,” she mutters.
Are they flirting? What the fuck is going on? Is she sleeping with her fucking lecturer?
“Hello,” I force out through gritted teeth.
I look between them and start to feel a bit hysterical. Don’t cause a scene.
“Ah, you’re the movie star. Indie has spoken about you.”
The movie star. I hate the way he says it.
“I was hoping Spence could sit in today?”
Grant nods, sitting on the edge of his desk like he’s trying to be casual, friendly, and relatable. He probably has a wife buried under the patio. “He can for this morning.”
Indie smiles at me. Me, not him. “Great. You are going to love it. Well, maybe.”
I pull her closer, and her eyes flutter. “I can’t wait to see my little nerd in action.”
“You’re not far off. Indie is my best student.”
I bet she is.
Where’s your wife, Grant?
He’s holding a textbook so I can’t see his left hand. The creep probably removes his wedding ring and keeps it in his car.
“My Indie is the smartest person I know,” I reply.
She side-eyes me. I’m sure she’s about to whack me again but she doesn’t.
“Well, take a seat. We have a little while,” Grant says. He gets up and sits behind his desk.
Indie and I sit the middle of the classroom.
“Not front and centre?” I tease, bumping her shoulder with my own.
She smiles so wide and seems so free that I start to doubt there’s anything bad happening at home. “That’s where you need to be, Hollywood.”
Laughing, I kick my legs out and lean back in the seat. “I think I’m coming out in a rash being in a classroom again.”
“You went to an acting school.”
“For the last two years of high school. Before that, I only had drama twice a week for fifty minutes. The rest of the week was so boring, I wanted to scream.”
She shakes her head. “It’s so obvious that we didn’t go to the same school.”
“You would have kept me entertained.”
“We probably would have hated each other. I would have insisted on being early to every class and you would try to get me
