Paul turned to face Julia on the couch. “Now that the semester is over for you, when are you moving?”
Julia sipped her coffee. “My lease is up the end of July, but I was hoping to persuade my landlord to let me leave mid-June.”
“After graduation?”
“Yes. My dad is going to help me move.”
Paul placed his mug on the coffee table.
“I’m heading back to Vermont in June. You could drive with me, and I could help you move.”
“My dad is coming for graduation.”
“We can drive together. You two could stay with me at the farm for a day or so, then we could drive down to Boston to get you settled. Are you going to live in residence?”
“I don’t know. They sent me something saying I couldn’t get into the residence halls until August. But I’d need somewhere to live before that.”
“My friend’s younger brother goes to Boston College. Let me talk to him and see if he knows of a place you could sublet. Half the population of Boston is under twenty-five. There are a lot of students.”
“You’d do that? Help me move and find an apartment?”
“I’d expect to be paid, in beer. I like Krombacher, by the way.”
“I think I can do that.”
Julia smiled and they clinked their coffee mugs together.
“Who are they?” She pointed to a photograph of four people, two men and two women, that Paul had partially hidden behind a penguin on top of his television.
“The girl on the far left is Heather, my little sister, and her husband, Chris. That’s me on the right.”
“And the other girl?” Julia gazed at the face of the pretty young woman who was clutching Paul’s waist and laughing.
“Uh, that’s Allison.”
Julia waited politely for Paul to elaborate.
“My ex-girlfriend.”
“Oh,” said Julia.
“We’re still friends. But she’s working in Vermont and couldn’t handle the long-distance thing. We broke up a while ago,” Paul explained quickly.
“You’re a good person.” Julia shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
Paul pulled her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles chastely. “I think you should say whatever is on your mind. For the record, I’ve always thought you were a good person too.”
She smiled but withdrew her hand delicately, so as not to give offense.
Shortly before midnight, she was asleep on his shoulder, their bodies close together on the futon. Paul’s mind was drifting, imagining the feel of her lips against his, her skin beneath his hands. He turned his face into her hair, tightening his arms around her. She stirred, mumbling Emerson’s name before burrowing her head in his chest.
He realized that he had a decision to make. If he was going to be Julia’s friend, then he would have to suppress his romantic feelings for her. He couldn’t kiss her or try to move things forward. It was far too soon. And it was quite possible she’d never want him, even when her broken heart was mended. But Julia needed a friend; she needed him. He wasn’t going to abandon her in her time of need, even if it was going to be painful to set aside his true feelings.
So instead of falling asleep with her in his arms, he carried her to his room and placed her on the bed. He covered her with the sheet and blankets, making sure that she was comfortable, then he picked up an extra pillow and a quilt and retreated to the living room.
He spent much of the evening frustrated and staring at the ceiling, while Julia slept soundly in his bed.
*
While Julia was spending the night at Paul’s apartment, Gabriel sat in his hotel room, glaring at his laptop. He’d received another terse email from his Chair, Jeremy Martin, reminding him of how much personal and political capital Jeremy had expended to “save his ass.” As if Gabriel needed a reminder.
His gaze drifted to the ring on his finger, resisting the urge to reexamine the words he’d had engraved on the inside. He spun the platinum band around and around as he cursed his most recent failure.
Harvard had kindly informed him that his candidacy was unsuccessful and that they’d hired Professor Marinelli, instead. Gabriel’s lack of success was one more way in which he’d failed Julianne. But it mattered little, now. What use would it be to be at Harvard, if she wouldn’t forgive him?
He cursed bitterly. What use was it to be anywhere, if she wouldn’t forgive him? Even in the hotel, she was with him. On his computer, on his cell phone, in his iPod, in his head.
Oh, yes, in his head. He was correct when he said that he would never forget what it felt like to gaze upon her naked body for the first time, the way her eyes were fixed on the floor shyly, the way her face flushed under his heated touch.