Page 23 of Frat House Fling

“Yeah.” It seemed hopeless. “What else?”

He rattled off a few more things, about place settings, about serving etiquette—things that were all normal to him and the others, but not to me. I tried to take in what he was saying, but I was so damn tired. And I got completely lost when he started talking about white versus red wine.

It wasn’t until he picked up a plate and came to stand by me at the sink that my brain kicked into gear. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It’s my job.” I took the plate from him. “And it’s one of the few parts of it I know how to do.”

“Look, it’s normal to feel overwhelmed at a new job, especially one as crazy as this, but?—”

“Could we talk about something else, please?” I knew I was interrupting, but I couldn’t help it. “Or you can go. Don’t you have work to do for your classes?”

“Okay,” he said.

I let out a shaky breath, unsure if I was relieved or disappointed that he was going to do as I asked. “Good night, then, and thank you for all you?—”

“I meant, okay, we can talk about something else.” He raised his eyebrows at my surprised expression. “You offered me two options. I chose the first.”

I ducked my head as I rinsed off a plate, trying to decide how I felt. Almost any other time, I would’ve enjoyed the company of a man like him. But everything had been overwhelming tonight. Still, he was right. I had kind of made it sound like there were two options. “What do you want to talk about?”

He grinned. “For starters, I like your accent.”

My cheeks flushed. “I don’t have much of one.” People around here didn’t have as much of a southern twang as in the southern part of the state.

“No, you don’t, but I like the way you talk. Slow and kind of deliberate. Instead of a mile a minute like a lot of people I know.”

“I bet you don’t know that many people who were born around here.” That was pretty much a given. Haverford was like its own country sometimes, especially at the university. Almost all the students came from somewhere else.

“No, I don’t. But I like the ones I do know.”

“Where were you born?”

“I’ve lived all over, but when I was a kid, my dad got a lot of work in Washington, so we lived in northern Virginia.”

“Your dad’s an architect, right?”

“Right.” He seemed surprised that I knew that.

“I, um, looked a couple of you guys up online.” The admission made me blush again. “Just so I wouldn’t do or say anything dumb.” But it hadn’t mattered because I made a big mess of this dinner. And a literal mess right here in this kitchen which would take me hours. But I didn’t want to ask Theo to leave again.

I didn’t know what to say next. He’d said he liked my accent. Maybe I could say something l liked about him? Not his looks. I mean, I did like them, but that was too personal. Plus, he was probably used to girls liking his looks. “I like those sketches upstairs. The ones on your drafting table.”

He leaned back against the counter as he looked down at me. “Thank you.”

“That concert hall seemed very peaceful. Like people might go there to hear music and to be in such a beautiful place.” I wasn’t very good at articulating thoughts about architecture, but Theo seemed pleased at my attempt.

“I hope the judges feel the same way.”

“Judges?”

“That was my entry for a national contest for architecture students. My dad won it when he was in college. I’m hoping I will, too.”

“It looked really good.” Not that I knew anything about it, but it seemed like a beautiful, comfortable, and welcoming place for the performers and the audience alike. “When will they release the results?”

“It could be any day now. Last year, they’d already named the winner by this time.”

“Is it a good sign or a bad sign that it’s taking longer this year?”

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