Written in the Stars(54)
Darcy was flirting and there was no one around for her to fool, no one to convince that this was anything but exactly what it was. Something real.
Elle shook her head and boldly reached out, brushing a strand of hair out of Darcy’s face before it could fall into her eyes. “Just me.”
Hopefully just Elle would be enough.
The smirk on Darcy’s face grew, spreading, transforming into a genuine smile, the sight of which made Elle’s stomach explode in a spray of butterfly wings. “I’d like that.”
Chapter Eleven
Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” Darcy whispered, following Elle up a long, narrow flight of stairs sandwiched between two stone walls.
The step beneath Elle’s right foot creaked when she turned, one hand resting on the railing, the other clutching her phone, which served as their flashlight, illuminating the otherwise pitch-black stairway.
“No.” A scant amount of light rebounded off the stone wall casting shadows across Elle’s face. Darcy couldn’t see her mouth, but the lilt to Elle’s voice hinted at a smile. “We’re actually not allowed to be here.”
“Elle.”
“Come on.” Fingers caressed the inside of Darcy’s wrist making her shiver. “Break the rules with me, Darcy.”
Little did she know Darcy was already breaking all sorts of rules. Rules of Darcy’s own making.
Darcy should’ve known Elle had a reason for refusing to answer any of her questions about where they were going and what Elle had planned for their . . . date? It felt like a date, had all the trappings of one. Darcy’s stomach had been in tangles all day, thinking about it. Her focus had been shot, her ability to get work done dismal. Rather than accomplish any studying, Darcy had performed an unreliable risk assessment of her own. Answer? If she had to ask whether it was a date, her risk was too high. Even knowing that, all she could think about was Elle, seeing Elle, what it meant and how it terrified her and how, despite the risk, she’d been unable to bring herself to cancel.
Dress warm and be ready by eleven was all Elle had said. At first Darcy had thought Elle meant eleven in the morning because what reasonable person planned a date for eleven at night? But according to Elle, the best adventures happened after dark.
Elle jiggled the knob on the door, hips and ass shaking in the cutest victory dance when the door opened revealing a round, moonlit room. “Ta-da! Welcome to the Jacobsen Observatory, the second-oldest building on campus.” Arms outstretched above her, fingers lifted toward the domed ceiling, Elle spun in a dizzying circle, her black skirt flouncing out around her tight-covered thighs. She was wearing the jacket Darcy had bought her.
Feigning interest in the building’s architecture, Darcy turned, pressing her fingers to one of the stones in front of her, hiding her smile in the shadows. “How’d you find this place?”
As covertly as possible, she peeked over her shoulder, watching as Elle dropped her arms, her smile dimming. Subtle, but Darcy noticed. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she noticed everything about Elle. How she tugged on her ear when she was anxious. Her bad habit of biting her bottom lip, a bad habit Darcy liked very much. Too much. She’d never been jealous of someone else’s teeth before, but Elle could bite that lip whenever, and there was something patently unfair that Darcy wasn’t allowed the privilege of doing the same.
Losing it. Darcy was absolutely losing it, losing her head, losing her grip, losing it all over Elle. She had sneaked up on Darcy and now here she was, jealous of Elle’s fucking teeth. God help her.
“Come on.” Elle tilted her head toward one of the arched French windows.
Darcy breathed deep, lungs swelling, burning before she exhaled and followed where Elle led.
Like the door, the window wasn’t locked, opening with ease when Elle pressed against the latch. She threw her right leg over the sill, straddling the ledge, then shimmied out the window, dropping onto the balcony that wrapped around half of the turret-shaped building. Elle held out a hand. Resting her fingers in Elle’s warm palm, Darcy stepped over the edge and into the cool, night air, her hair whipping in the breeze.
Above them, bright, winking stars twinkled against an inky blue canvas, the view expansive and impressive and it made Darcy’s breath catch in her throat. “Oh.”
Elle tugged, dragging Darcy eagerly over to the stone railing. “Life would be a lot better if we all spent a little more time staring at the stars.” Loose strands of blond hair caught the moonlight, creating a haloed glow around her when she turned her face up to the sky. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Darcy wasn’t looking at the sky.
“You see that cluster of stars right there?” Elle pointed, drawing Darcy’s attention to a grouping to the right. “Right”—she grabbed Darcy’s hand and lifted it toward the sky, tracing a pattern in the stars—“there. That’s the Big Dipper. If you follow those stars—the vertical ones on the end—straight up, you reach Polaris, also known as the North Star. It’s a constant, never moves. If you’re ever lost, you can always find true north, as long as you can spot that star.”
Elle let go of Darcy’s hand and placed her palms flat against the railing. Hyperaware of where her limbs existed in space now that Elle was near but no longer touching her, Darcy’s hand hovered awkwardly at her side, her fingers tingling as she flexed them.