Page 142 of When Hearts Ignite

I give her a terse nod. The emerald tie is choking my airway. The office reeks of the odor of full-grain leather and expensive, upholstered furniture. It smells like everything else in this place.

Rich. Old. Pretentious. Wasteful.

I tap my fingers on the desk in an erratic rhythm as I wait for the lady to return with a slip of paper and a pamphlet.

“Here’s your schedule and a map of the campus. Your first class is Shakespearean English Literature in Room 308 with Mr. Nichols. Class is just about to begin.”

Retrieving the documents, I dip my head in acknowledgement then turn to walk toward the door.

“Hold on. Our policy is to have someone walk you to your first class on your first day here. A welcome of sorts. I’ve called another student from your class to come by. Stay put and she’ll be here shortly.”

She.

Probably another snobby, party girl decked out head-to-toe in expensive jewelry, driving a luxury vehicle purchased with her parents’ funds. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the thought of needing to wait for a spoiled child to escort me to class. After all, I’m older than all the students here.

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimes a familiar tune in the background—The Westminster Quarters, as I’ve learned from my hours spent studying at the library on the weekends to catch up on coursework I’ve missed during some especially grueling weekdays. The haunting, beautiful sound echoes in the room. The craftsmanship of the clock is exquisite, with angels and flowers carved deep into the red wood case. The face is enclosed in glass with the minute and hour hands forged from gold, which glint in the lamplight. The copper pendulum, slightly dulled with age, swings to the chimes. I’m momentarily mesmerized by the beauty of the antique and don’t hear the door open behind me.

“Hi, Doris. How are you doing? You look wonderful today,” a sweet voice says from behind me—a voice radiating warmth, like a cup of steaming, creamy hot chocolate on a freezing winter’s day.

I smell a faint scent of lilies before I see her.

My heart picks up in rhythm for no apparent reason as I slowly turn around. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the owner of the dulcet voice in front of me.

Long, sleek hair, the color of espresso beans, streaked with dark-russet strands.

A heart-shaped face with large mocha-brown eyes framed with the thickest of lashes.

Porcelain skin, smooth with only the lightest scattering of freckles.

A small pair of lips currently quirked up in a smile. Two beautiful dimples.

Pocket-sized to my six-foot-two height, with curves in all the right places.

An elf. A fae. A pixie.

“Emily, you smooth talker. I’m doing fine, thank you. How are you doing yourself? How is Jess doing? We miss her around here, you know.”

Emily. Her name is Emily.

She gives me a wink and walks up to the desk, propping her arms on the top. The fragrance of lilies is stronger as she stands next to me. The hairs on my arms prickle to attention under the suit jacket and my senses are on alert, as if my body knows something about this person that I don’t know. As if this is somehow a turning point in my life.

Shake it off, dude.

“She’s doing great. She’s at ULA and staying on campus—acing her classes as usual. She even has a boyfriend. I’m happy for her.”

“Oh good. I’m glad to hear. We expect nothing less from her.” Doris clears her throat and motions to me. “This is Adrian Callahan. Today is his first day. He’s in the same Shakespearean Literature class as you. Can you walk him to class and go over how things work here?”

Emily cocks her head to the side and flashes a blinding smile at me. A real one, not the fake ones I’m doling out or the ones I’d expect from the school of snobs. “I’m Emily Kingsley. Welcome to Warwick.” She extends her hand toward me. Kingsley. A slither of unease snakes its way through me, but I can’t pinpoint the reason.

I clench my hand, quickly wiping my palm on my trousers, and gently clasp her hand in mine. My large palm engulfs her soft one and I could swear I see her quickly intake a breath of air.

“Hi,” I murmur, my voice sounding deeper than usual.

The moment passes as quickly as it appeared and I reluctantly drop her hand. She twists her fingers and rubs her palms together, a flush creeping up her slender neck. My fingers twitch with an irrational impulse to trace the pinkness there.

“Come on, follow me. I’ll show you the ropes.”

I glance back at Doris, only to find her staring at me with the damn pity in her eyes again. I give her a nod and follow Emily out of the office.

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