Free Nothing Can Keep Us Together by Cecily von Ziegesar

turned and stood facing Blair, unabashedly checking her out as the elevator doors rolled shut behind him.
    Looks like Elizabeth has found her Richard Burton.
    Blair teetered on her gold Manolo Egyptian Goddess sandals as they glided upwards. What a charming British accent. What a beautiful crisp white shirt and perfectly ironed Helmut Lang jeans. What adorable Church’s of London tan lace-up shoes. What golden brown hair, what green eyes, what great height! He was like a taller, handsomer version of Nate—but even better than Nate, because of that delicious accent!
    Isn’t she supposed to be through with men? But a super-British version of Nate? Come on, who could resist?
    The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. The boy stood aside, and the concierge stepped out. “If you’ll just follow me, miss,” he said, motioning to Blair to follow him. Blair hesitated. How could she leave such a delicious-looking boy behind?
    “After you, miss,” the boy murmured quietly, pressing the door-open button so Blair wouldn’t get squashed.
    “Right this way,” the concierge prompted, leading the way down the Yale blue–carpeted hallway.
    Blair stepped out into the hall and began to follow the concierge, walking as slowly as possible. Then suddenly the boy was walking beside her, exuding pleasant odors and looking delighted with his own hotness.
    The concierge stopped at the end of the hallway. “Yours is the junior suite, miss. Right next to His Lordship’s.”
    His Lordship?!
    The English boy smiled at Blair as he fumbled with his key. “Lord Marcus Beaton-Rhodes,” he introduced himself, thrusting his hand out. Blair noticed right away he was wearing a Yale ring. “Embarrassingly enough, my friends at Yale all call me Lord.”
    Lord. I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Lord. This is my husband, Lord. We met at Yale. The lord and his gorgeous wife will be vacationing on their yacht in the South of France this spring with their perfect family before a long sojourn at their summer castle in Cornwall. …
    “And you are?”
    Blair fluttered her thick, mascaraed eyelashes, awakening from her delicious daydream. “Blair Cornelia Waldorf,” she trilled, sounding exactly like Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s when she first introduces herself to her new neighbor, Paul Varjak. “Actually, I’m starting at Yale this fall.”
    “And I’ve just finished there. Wa-hey!” Lord Marcus tossed his keys into his room and kicked off his shoes in the doorway. “Blimey, I’m late for squash, but let’s …” He smiled shyly. “Shall we get together for a drink tonight?”
    Blair nodded in dumb agreement. She could hardly believe her luck.
    “See you in the lounge at seven, then.”
    The lord closed his door and the concierge deposited the adjacent suite’s keys into Blair’s hand. “Your bags will be here in a moment. Is everything all right, Miss Waldorf?”
    “Bloody hell!” she heard the lord exclaim in his adorable accent as he crashed around in his suite. Blair imagined him throwing his beautiful, tailor-made English clothes all over the place as he hunted for something to wear for squash. If she were his girlfriend, she’d color-code his shirts for him and alphabetize his shoes according to designer so he wouldn’t have to thrash around so much looking for things.
    Of course she would.
    She stepped inside her room and flopped down on the king-size bed to listen, her eyes darting around the room as she did so, taking it all in. It was small and shabby-chic, erring on the shabby side, the gold accents on the curtains and bedspread and the Regency blue–patterned wallpaper the only attempts at grandeur. It wasn’t exactly the Plaza, but there was a hot English lord living next door.
    Yes, yes—everything was more than all right.
    Nothing Can Keep us Together

Gossip Girl 08 - Nothing Can Keep Us Together
    what boarding schoolers do when they’re bored
    It was already five in the afternoon by the time Jenny