Page 36 of Echoes of Us
She pushed off from the wall, squaring her shoulders.Ezra didn't know what she knew.Didn't understand that she wasn't trying to choose between brothers or create drama.
She was trying to save them both.
CHAPTER12
Ashley woke in a panic, her heart already racing.Weak morning light filtered through the dorm room's thin curtains, painting patterns on her rumpled sheets.She'd barely slept - Ezra's warnings tangling with memories of Cole in the library, leaving her tossing and turning until dawn finally crept in.
Sarah's gentle snoring from the other bed reminded her to check the time.7:43 AM.Her social psychology final was done, but now an even more daunting challenge loomed ahead: studying with Cole.That's when reality hit her like a bucket of ice water - she'd been so distracted by yesterday's run-in with Ezra that she'd forgotten one crucial detail - she had no way to contact Cole.No number, no meeting place, nothing.
Her stomach twisted as she reached for her phone, not even sure what she was hoping to find.Several texts from Marie about post-finals plans.A missed call from her mom.And then...
The screen lit up with a new message.Unknown number.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she swiped to open it.She'd know that commanding tone anywhere, even through text.The same way she'd known his handwriting the moment she saw those cards in Dallas, the same way she'd know his touch even in complete darkness.
Noon.Sterling Memorial Library.Third floor study room 304.
A few seconds later, Sarah stirred to find Ashley still staring at her phone, a mix of anticipation and dread making her fingers tingle.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Sarah mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
More like a future that might never happen, Ashley thought, but she just smiled, already planning her outfit in her head.If Cole wanted to play professor and student, she'd make sure he regretted every minute of his careful professionalism.
She waited until Sarah disappeared into the shower before opening the message again.
Sterling Memorial Library.Her heart skipped.Not Bass, where every undergraduate camped during finals week, or the bright, open Cross Campus.He'd chosen the most beautiful, most private library - all cathedral ceilings and hidden alcoves, where afternoon light painted the space with soft shadows and the saints in stained glass cast silent judgment from above.
The third floor was particularly notorious.Private study rooms lined labyrinthine corridors, each one a world unto itself.The perfect choice for serious studying.
Perfect for other things, too.
Heat bloomed low in her belly at the thought.This wasn't her Cole - her Cole who'd spent years learning every inch of her body, who knew exactly how to touch her, to taste her.This was a younger version, filled with angst and barely contained anger.The kind of boy your mother warned you about, the kind who'd ruin you and make you thank him for it.
She shook her head, trying to clear it.Four hours.She had four hours to prepare, to arm herself against whatever game he was playing.
The shower shut off, and Sarah emerged in a cloud of steam."You're still in bed?Don't you have that thing with Cole?"
"That thing," Ashley repeated dryly, but her heart skipped at his name."You mean tutoring?"
Sarah's eyebrows disappeared into her wet bangs."Is that what we're calling it?"
"Yes," Ashley said firmly, though her fingers clutched her phone tighter."That's exactly what we're calling it."
"Mhm."Sarah started rummaging through her closet."That's why you've been staring at your phone like it might bite you for the past twenty minutes."
Ashley threw a pillow at her, but her friend just laughed.
"All I'm saying is," Sarah continued, dodging another pillow, "if you're going to let Cole Westwood 'tutor' you, at least wear something that'll make him yearn."
Ashley already knew what she was going to wear.
She stood before her closet, fingers trailing over hangers until they found what they sought - the dove-gray sweater dress she'd brought from home on a whim last week.The cashmere was butter-soft against her skin as she slipped it on, the material following her curves like water.In the mirror's reflection, the dress was a study in contradiction - modest in its coverage but sinful in its cling, the hem hitting that sweet spot mid-thigh that drew the eye without revealing too much.
She chose her undergarments with equal care - black lace that made her feel dangerous even if no one would see it.The sheer black tights went on next, transforming her legs into something almost sculptural.Her heeled boots added inches she didn't need but wanted - not to match his height, but to make him look.
Her hair she left loose around her shoulders, dark waves catching the morning light.She remembered how future Cole loved to wind it around his fist, how his fingers would tangle in it when he kissed her.This Cole might be determined to keep his distance, but she knew his tells - the way his eyes followed the movement, the way his hands would twitch with the urge to touch.
As she applied a final touch of gloss to her lips, she studied her reflection.The girl who looked back wasn't the harried student from yesterday or the wife from her future.This was someone else entirely - someone who knew exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
