Bring Down the Stars (Beautiful Hearts Duet #1)(38)

Or maybe it’s better to keep to solid ground and be single.

I hated single. I hated empty beds and silent mornings. I loved long talks, longer kisses and the feeling of having a partner as I navigated the world; one who would fill many chapters in the story of my life. But I couldn’t escape a nagging feeling I was trying to see something in Connor that wasn’t there; that he would only occupy a few paragraphs in my life’s story, and it made me sad.

I’d miss that smile.

At five, I got up, showered, dressed in black pants and a white blouse and pulled my hair up in a ponytail. I came out of my room just in time to catch Ruby and Hayes saying goodbye at the front door.

“Hiya, Auts,” Hayes called.

I smiled and gave a little wave. “Hiya, Hayes.”

Ruby smacked Hayes playfully on the chest. “Hope this beast didn’t keep you up last night with his X-rated shenanigans.”

“Me?” Hayes’ eyes widened with his smile. “You can’t keep your volume down at my X-rated shenanigans.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I was feeling homesick but you two brought me right back to the farm during mating season.”

“Ha ha,” Ruby said, while Hayes snickered.

He kissed Ruby a final time. “Bye, baby.”

“Ciao, bello. Until next time.”

She shut the door and leaned against it, a sleepy smile on her face. Then she joined me in the kitchen.

“Coffee?” I asked through a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Hell, no. I’m going back to bed.” She leaned elbows on the counter. “Did we keep you awake?”

“Oh gosh no, I stayed up to listen on purpose.”

“Perv,” Ruby said. “But I’m sorry we keep doing this to you.”

“I’m not even mad. A little jealous, maybe.”

“Girl, why?” she said. “You have a perfectly good man, ready and willing.”

“If I sleep with him, I know what will happen. I’ll want more.”

“More what, exactly?”

“Everything.”

“And?”

“And I don’t know that I’m ready to jump in like that again. Or if Connor’s the one I should jump with.” I toyed with the stack of coffee filters on the counter. “I talked to my counselor on Friday. She spoke to the Dean of Admissions at Harvard.”

“What’s the dealio?”

“The absolute deadline for me to apply is next October.”

Ruby snorted. “That’s an entire year away.”

“Right,” I said. “One year to plan and execute an application project and write the paper to go with it. It sounds like a lot of time but it’s not.”

“It would probably help if you picked a focus.”

“Ya don’t say?” I sighed and hit the button to start the coffee brewing. “When I think about picking an emphasis, I feel like I’m abandoning so many other causes that need attention.”

Ruby rubbed her eyes. “Honey, there’s no shortage of problems that need fixing. You have to pull one of them close to your heart. That’s how you’ll make a difference.” She cocked her head. “How’s the farm doing?”

“Struggling,” I said. “We always are, to greater or lesser degrees.”

“Maybe there’s something there.”

“Maybe,” I said, with a pang of guilt. “I should pick something in agriculture or food systems, but…”

“But it doesn’t thrill you,” Ruby said. “Guilt is a terrible way to choose a career.”

“But it feels irresponsible to my family if I don’t.”

“Speaking of counselors and careers,” Ruby said, her finger tracing a line on our counter. “Mine told me I’m one step closer to getting my year in La Spezia. The study-abroad commission liked my work and it’s down to me and a few other applicants.” She grinned sleepily. “But I have a good feeling. One year from now I’m going to be on the Italian Riviera, in a cute little village on a beach, rolling in the surf with a hot Italian.”

“I like to keep my options open,” she said and yawned over a smile. “I’m hitting the sack.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “You’ll figure out your focus for your project. Make lists. Meditate. Hell, throw a dart and see where it lands.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been doing at Yancy’s every weekend instead of working.”

“Orgasms, too,” she tossed over her shoulder, pretending not to have heard me. “Great for decision making. Helps to relax.”

I laughed as she retreated back to her room. If Ruby were any more relaxed, she’d melt. I tried to remember the last time I felt truly relaxed and not stressed over work or my family’s farm, and couldn’t.





During my morning shift at the Panache Blanc, Edmond caught me worrying my lip and staring off into space between customers. He tugged at his mustache, looking at me thoughtfully.

“Ma chère, I would say you wear the face of a girl with two roads ahead of her and she does not know which one to take.”

I started to protest, then nodded instead. “You’re right. I have some decisions to make about my grad school application and…”