Page 83 of Changing the Play

I stand, offering to help clean the dining room, but Elle waves me on. “No thank you. You boys go get settled in for the night. We’ve got this.”

Bill laughs. “Oh, sonowit’s we?” He still has that love-drunk look on his face, though, so I know he’s not really bothered.

God, is this going to be me and Darcy in thirty years? I sure hope so.

When Darcy stands with me and laces his fingers through mine, leading me out of the room and down a hallway, I feel at peace. Truly at peace. Happy and in love with a stomach so full of butterflies it’s a miracle they even fit.

“I’m just saying he had little man syndrome,” I say, dropping onto my stomach beside Darcy on my bed.

Darcy laughs. “Well, I mean, hewasa little man.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he has little man syndrome. Marcus has little man syndrome too, and he’s bigger than I am.”

“We aren’t talking about him,” Darcy says, giving me a side eye.

Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. Darcy has not been what I would call receptive to talking to me about what actually happened with Marcus.I’m not even homicidal anymore. I mean, I am a little, but I wouldn’t lose my shit if Darcy finally told me what happened.

My stomach burns at the memory of his gorgeous face bruised and bleeding and yeah, okay, maybe I would end up homicidal again.

Not that it really matters, since Bill told us last weekend that Marcus got into another fight and was expelled. Turns out, beating the shit out of the dean’s gay son, who, unlike Darcy, didn’t fight back, is a step too far. I can’t help but wonder if he didn’t know who he was picking a fight with. And to make it worse, I’ve heard rumors that he tried to kiss the guy first, but was denied and flew into a rampage over it. I’m not sure how true that is, though.

“Anyway,” Darcy says, watching me warily. I force a deep breath into my lungs. “Napoleon wasn’t all bad. Most people aren’t. There’s nuance there. He did a lot of good things, but he also did a lot of questionable things.”

“Yeah, I mean, it was great that he helped pull France out of their despair, but like anything, too much of a good thing is bad. In the end, it was his own greed that got him,” I muse.

Darcy grins. “I’m not sure if I should be happy or sad that you don’t need me anymore.”

I roll onto my back and stare up at him. “I’ll always need you.”

“Not for history.”

Is he pouting about that? The petulant tone of his voice is almost too cute for words. “Maybe not, but I like to nerd out with you anyway.”

“That’s offensive. Anyway, it’s my favorite for a reason. The nuance, how almost everyone who did bad, also did some good, and how things aren’t always black and white. It’s fascinating.”

Not as fascinating as him. But then, nothing is.

“All the cause and effect, the dominos that fall and trigger more, the way something seemingly small can topple an entire empire.”

His hands are flying through the air, his expression animated, and I can’t help but grin at him. I love seeing him like this. So carefree, sharing what he loves, with no concern for anything else. It helps that I easily follow now. My smart man changed my entire life.

“One decision, West. One tiny little thing can cause one domino to fall and then another and another, and suddenly the world is fundamentally different than it was before. It’s crazy, isn’t it? How these tiny little pieces that don’t seem to matter in the small ways, add up to form the entirety of the world. Think of where we’d be if—”

I surge forward, cutting him off with my lips on his. He makes a startled sound against my mouth, but then he’s adjusting, movinguntil he’s on his back and I’m pressing into him, digging my fingers into his hair and kissing, kissing, kissing him.

He groans, rocking his hips against me, nails digging into my back and trying to pull me closer. When I break our kiss and smile down at him, he’s panting. “What was that for?”

I shrug. “You monologued about history. It was hot. Got me worked up.”

He blinks at me a few times before breaking out into laughter. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to shut me up.”

I shake my head, leaning down to brush my nose over his and steal another quick kiss. “Not even close. I could close my eyes and listen to you talk—about history, or the weather, or what you had for breakfast—for literally the rest of time.”

Darcy’s cheeks flush bright red, and I laugh as I sit up. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we have finals, so we really should be studying.”

Darcy sits up with me, picking up his notebook that was crumpled a bit during our little interlude. “I hate to agree, but you’re right. I didn’t put all this work into you for you to fail at the last second.”

The next hour goes by in a rush of pencils scratching paper, notebooks rustling, and the occasional excited tidbit from Darcy. By the time we’re done studying for the night, my brain feels like it’s about to leak from my ears, and I’m exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that I’m not even sure I can go for sex tonight, but I’m pretty damn sure I’m going to pass this final, and I know without a doubt it’s because of the man beside me.

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