Free Passionate History by Libby Waterford Page B

great actually, as he should focus on pushing his tenure through at last.
    Maybe it would be a good thing if she went back to Seattle and they tried to be long-distance for a while. But he couldn’t let her leave without telling her exactly what was on his mind. There was no sense in drawing the thing out. He had to be honest.
    His rational line of thinking died when he emerged from a quick trip to the washroom to splash cold water on his face and found himself in a sea of women, one of whom was Bree. He had trouble focusing on any face but hers, but he got a sense of the line of Bree’s nose and her dark auburn hair echoed in some of the faces.
    “Hi,” she said. Was there panic in her expression? If so, good, because he was feeling a bit panicky himself.
    Five females stared at him, and all he could say was, “Hi.”
    “Hi.” He was pretty sure she had said that already. What was he supposed to say now?
    The youngest of the women who wasn’t Bree eyed him curiously, and he realized he was blocking the way to the restroom. He stepped forward, and the sea of women parted. Maybe he could get through and to the other side and everything would be fine.
    No such luck. Another woman appeared. Professor Woodlawn. Bollocks. He sent a desperate glance toward Bree, but she seemed as at a loss as he.
    “Bree!” Professor Woodlawn barked. “I thought that was you. Is there a convention at the restroom I wasn’t invited to?”
    Bree seemed to find her voice, probably conditioned to respond to questions from the formidable chair. “Hello, Professor Woodlawn. This is my mother, Erica Ross, my sister, Tess Ross, and my grandmothers. They drove in from Connecticut to see me. Um, how was commencement?”
    “Long. Hot.”
    Aidan was aware he was standing there stupidly. He wanted to reach out to Bree, to kiss her cheek and meet her family, but he was so blindsided by her appearance, he couldn’t.
    “Aidan,” Bree spoke again. She’d called him by his first name. He could feel Clarissa Woodlawn stare at him sharply. “I was going to call you—”
    “To go over the details of your recommendation, right? Why don’t you e-mail me, Miss Ross?” He hated the stiffness in his voice, the look of confusion in her eyes when he forced himself to meet them. He hoped she would understand he had to play everything very professional in front of the woman who had the power to make or break his entire career.
    Bree said nothing. “Ladies,” he said, and shouldered past the rest of the Ross clan to stand next to Professor Woodlawn.
    “Ready to go, Aidan?” Professor Woodlawn asked.
    “Right,” he said, following her outside without looking back. He could only hope Bree would forgive him.

 
     
     
Chapter Seven
     
     
    What an idiot she’d been to think there was any real future for them. Obviously, he didn’t feel the same blinding need for her that she felt for him or he wouldn’t have dismissed her, humiliating her in front of her family. No, that wasn’t fair. She hadn’t been humiliated because they had no idea there was anything between them. But it still hurt. He’d treated her like a pesky freshman, and they’d been sharing a bed less than twelve hours before.
    After Aidan and his party had left, she’d followed her parents numbly out to the parking lot and agreed to meet them all at Weston Pond to take a short walk before they drove back to Midville. Outdoor activities were one thing they all agreed upon, even her grandmothers, who’d gone backpacking together in the Berkshires only the previous summer.
    Tess hopped in the passenger seat of the dreaded rental before Bree could refuse her company. All she wanted was to be alone, to think over how she was going to salvage the heart she hadn’t realize had been so completely consumed by Aidan until he’d kicked it away.
    Now her sister was nattering on about her summer job interning at the Hartford law firm Baker and Roberts. Only every third word was coming