The day when he'd stopped being able to see the beauty in anything.
From that day forward, he'd only been looking for numb. And for the past three months, that was all he'd gone for to replace grief.
Until Serena had appeared, like a beautiful angel, before him.
He'd thought his love for photography had died when his mother had, had known he couldn't possibly take another picture without being able to show it to her. But now, suddenly, he found himself wondering, could he do it again? Could he take a picture one day and not feel only the pain, the helplessness, of watching his mom slip away? Because just as he'd been overwhelmed by the urge to capture Serena's beauty on film in the library with the sunlight shining down on her, the same intense yearning had come over him again in the photo archives when she'd been studying Ansel Adams's photo, Bridalveil Fall.
The knock came at his door a beat before he heard a female voice say, "Sean? Are you in there?"
Olivia? What was his sister doing here?
Of course, it wasn't hard to guess that she must have seen the magazine. His little sister, Maddie, had been the first to text him to ask if he really was dating Serena Britten and to find out if she was as pretty in person as she was in magazines. He'd given her both answers, first that he was trying to convince Serena to date him--and also that she was a thousand times more beautiful in person. His two older brothers were likely too busy taking over the business and rock 'n' roll worlds to have seen the story yet, and no doubt his twin had been locked inside a lab all day and hadn't even seen the sunlight, let alone some paparazzi pictures.
But Olivia...she noticed everything. Worried about it all, too. And if his fastidious sister was willing to pick her way through empty beer bottles and smelly frat guys to come and see him, that meant she was really worried.
He opened the door. "Welcome."
"I really don't know how you can stand to live in a place like this," she murmured as she walked into his room. Never one to waste time getting to the point, she sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled out her phone to show him the story he'd already seen too many times today. "A friend of mine showed this to me tonight at dinner. And since I can see that you're not surprised, I take it you've already seen it."
He sat in the chair behind his desk and swiveled it to face Olivia. His room was one of the biggest in the frat house--and one of the only ones that came with its own bathroom and shower--but with his sister's concern sucking up all the oxygen in the room, it suddenly felt way too small.
"A good dozen times."
"I thought Drew was the only one we were going to see in things like this--at least, until you went pro."
Sean instantly tensed up at the assumption that he was definitely going to play pro baseball. He was used to strangers bringing it up, but a part of him wished his sister knew him better...even though he hadn't actually said or done much to make her think he might want to pursue a different path in life.
"Is it true? Are you dating the supermodel?"
Olivia only had his best interests at heart, but he still didn't like the way she'd boiled Serena down to the supermodel. "Her name is Serena." He forced his frustration back, knowing none of this was his sister's fault. "No, we're not dating." Not yet, anyway. "But we're friends."
"Really? You're not dating?" She looked down at the pictures, seeing what everyone else must have--a guy and a girl on the verge of a kiss, both of whom were dying for it. "Because you two look pretty close for just being friends."
"Look, just because we're not dating yet doesn't mean I don't wish we were. She's pretty skittish about getting involved with anyone."
"Well, I'd say you're both pretty darn involved now, whether you want to be or not." She pinned him with her clear blue gaze, so much like his mother's that it shook him. "I don't want you to get hurt, Sean." Of his five siblings, Olivia had always been the caretaker. If his parents weren't around, she was the one who'd pull out the first aid kit and make them hold still while she cleaned their playground cuts.
Giving his head a shake so that he was seeing Olivia sitting on his bed instead of a ghost, he said, "You don't have to worry about me, sis."
"You really like this one, don't you?" At his look, she amended this one to, "Serena."
"Serena is different. You'd like her." He could so easily see Serena and Olivia hanging out, talking books. "You'd like her a lot, actually."
"Are you sure you don't just think she's great because she's so pretty? I mean, even another girl like me can see how beauty like hers could blind someone to anything bad she might be hiding."
There was no question in Sean's mind that Serena was hiding things. Things he hoped she'd eventually trust him enough to share. Like why she'd really given up her old life. Why she'd looked so sad when her mother had called that afternoon. Why she hadn't told her lecherous professor where to stick it when he looked at her so inappropriately, like he wanted to devour her.
And why she was so afraid to let Sean kiss her again.
But whatever her secrets--and her reasons for keeping them--he already knew for sure that she wasn't a bad person.
Not bothering to weigh his words first, he flat-out told his sister, "She's just as beautiful on the inside, Olivia."
His sister's eyebrows went up as she stared at him in stunned silence for several long moments. "In that case, what are you going to do when she leaves?"
Even the question had his gut clenching tight. "She isn't going to leave." Easily able to read his sister's disbelieving look, he said, "I've never seen anyone as serious as she is about school. Not even Justin." And he thought he knew why. It wasn't that his twin was any less interested in the intellectual stimulation, it was that he'd never had to fight for it. It was basic human nature that people valued the things they couldn't easily have, that they had to work for, more. "Serena wants to be here more than you or I could ever understand."
"It's hard for me to believe anyone in her position would feel that way, but since you know her and I don't, I can only take your word for it. But the thing is, even if she wants to be here, someone like Serena Britten..." She paused, clearly hesitant to say something that would upset him. "I can't help but think that she's too famous, too necessary a player in the world she came from for everyone not to need her back for their ad campaigns, or fashion shows, or catalogs, or music videos, or movies."
He was surprised to realize just how much his sister knew about Serena. He'd thought Maddie was the only one in his family who read the kind of magazines his picture had been in today, but now he wondered if his more serious sister had secretly been reading them, too.
"Because," Olivia continued, "even if she doesn't want to go back, even if she wants to stay here to learn and even date you when you get your way like you always do," she added with a small smile, "what if something comes up that she can't say no to?"
For all that his sister had said so far tonight, it was what she didn't say that was clearest of all: She was worried that if he actually went and fell in love with Serena and then she left him...wanting to be numb would only be the tip of the iceberg for him. Because obviously, over the past months, Olivia had noticed his drinking. His partying. And she was clearly worried that if things didn't work out with Serena, he'd take things even further. Even darker.
Forcing away the thought that his sister might be right about the risk of falling for Serena, he said, "How about you wait until I convince her to actually call what we're doing this Friday night a date before you go all worst-case-scenario on me?"
"Mom would--"
"Have wanted to meet Serena before she made any decisions about her."
Olivia finally stopped protesting. "You're right, she would have."
And he was also right that it was becoming increasingly difficult for his sister to try to fill their mom's shoes. Olivia was awesome. But no one could be Lisa Morrison.
He could also see that while his sister clearly didn't like his determination to continue moving th
ings forward with Serena, she also knew when it was pointless to try to hold him back.
"So, when will I get to meet her? When will all of us get to meet her?"
"Hopefully soon. Actually, since you're here, I've got a question for you. Ever played Frisbee Golf on the campus course?"
She looked at him like he was insane. "No. I didn't even know it was still there. I mean, who actually plays Frisbee Golf anymore? Even in the seventies people could barely bring themselves to play it."
He grinned. "Something tells me the sport is about to make a comeback."
"You're weird," she said, but she was grinning as she stood up to leave, and he was glad to see his sister smile again. The first one he'd seen on her face in far too long.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sean didn't believe in picking a girl up late for a date, but he'd never been fifteen minutes early, either. Still, something told him Serena probably wouldn't mind if he came up to her spot on the third floor of the library a little ahead of schedule. At least, he hoped she wouldn't, and that she'd lost at least some of her well-honed concentration to thinking about him. Because Lord knew he'd lost plenty this week thinking about her.
"Hi, Janice. How's your week been?"
The woman behind the information desk smiled. "Good. Are you here to book more time in the archives?"
He started to shake his head, when he realized it was one hurdle he didn't have to worry about jumping again. All because of Serena. And though he probably wouldn't be picking up a camera any time soon, that didn't mean he couldn't at least enjoy looking at some of the best photographs in the world.
"I came to pick up Serena, but booking more time is a great idea."
After they'd arranged for an hour midweek when she would be personally available to bring out some of the hidden gems people rarely got a chance to see, he jogged up the stairs. The second he saw the top of Serena's baseball cap, he smiled.
The library was the last place in the world that should have been romantic, or felt special. But when he looked at her, he realized it was both. Even better, late on a Friday afternoon, no one else was around and it felt like it was all theirs.
"Hey, beautiful."
She jumped slightly in her seat, the way she had before when he'd surprised her reading with her headphones on. Next time he'd have to figure out a better way to get her attention.
"Hi. I set my alarm to go wait for you downstairs, but I guess I didn't hear it go off."
"I'm early." If he'd been smart, he would have taken the extra fifteen minutes and just stared at her from a distance to try to get his fill of her beauty. "Do you need to finish up?"
"No." She closed her book. "I've kind of had a hard time concentrating this afternoon." Her cheeks flushed at the admission. "I couldn't stop wondering what you had planned for us."
He reached out to tilt up the brim of her baseball cap so that he could better see her face. "You'll never guess, so you shouldn't even bother trying." When she looked a little worried, he added, "But I'm pretty sure you're going to have fun."
Her face was such an open book--happy to see him one minute, a little worried the next, and then trying to trust him when he asked her to. How the hell he was going to keep from kissing her today, he didn't have a freaking clue.
All he knew was that the next time they kissed had to be because she wanted it, not because he couldn't keep from reaching for her again and crashing his lips against hers.
When he picked up her bag, he was surprised by how light it was. "Finally given up carrying around bricks all day?"
She laughed. "I might have bought a couple of ebooks this week. Just to try them out, mind you."
As they headed downstairs, it would have been perfectly natural to take her hand. But at the last second, he stopped himself. They hadn't talked boundaries, hadn't discussed public perception, hadn't yet worked their way around to whether this was really a date or just two friends hanging out. For the first time, he understood what it must have been like for the girls he'd been with over the years, not knowing where they stood with him. No doubt they'd all love to see the tables turned on him now.
But since he'd been worrying all week about the way her professor had been looking at her before her meeting with him, first he had to ask, "How'd the rest of your week go? I kind of got a weird vibe from that English professor."
She shot him a slightly surprised look before saying, "I felt the same way at first, but, actually, this week has been totally fine. And I guess he already got what he wanted out of our meeting on Monday, because he hasn't set up another one since then."
Serena didn't say that she was relieved, but he could hear it in her voice. And she wasn't the only one. All week, he'd had ugly visions of what that professor probably dreamed of doing to his supermodel student. Now, thankfully, it looked like Sean didn't have to worry about it anymore, since the guy had decided to back off. Had him showing up with Serena at his office and her kissing him on the cheek played a part in the professor's sudden about-face?
"And has anyone on campus given you grief over the story about us?"
"Well, since no one knew it was all made up, I'm pretty sure all the other girls on campus aren't too happy about me stealing the most wanted guy at Stanford." She wasn't saying it to flirt with him, he realized, she was simply telling him how the week had gone for her. "But apart from that, I'm already such a freak that, honestly, I don't think anyone really blinked an eye over it."
"You're not a freak."
"When I was five years old and in kindergarten, I was already taller than the third-grade boys."
"Okay," he said in a teasing voice, "maybe that is a little freaky."
He was glad when a surprised laugh bubbled out from her lips. "How tall are you?"
"Six-four."
"I actually have to tilt my head to look up at you. That hardly ever happens."
They were, he already knew, a perfect fit...and again, that urge to thread his fingers through her silky hair and drag her into him for a kiss almost overpowered his better sense.
"What about you? I know it must have been weird for you to find pictures of yourself online like that. I was so shell-shocked by it on Monday that I didn't think to check in about how you were doing until you were already gone, and I didn't want to bug you with texts."
He could feel an apology coming on, but since none of it was her fault, he cut her off at the pass. "First, you should text me whenever you feel like it. And, honestly, it wasn't that big a deal. Except for having to tell people that we weren't actually dating. That sucked."
"It did?"
Seriously, did she not have any sense at all of just how amazing she was? Not just beautiful, but easy to be with, and so warm, that she'd actually managed to melt some of the ice that had frozen his heart this year.
"Big time. But if you'll agree that tonight is a date and not just two buddies hanging out, that might help me get over it."
When she didn't say anything back, or give even the slightest hint of a smile, he knew he was moving too fast again. Hell, hadn't she already told him a half-dozen times that she wasn't here to date? Why didn't he actually listen for once?
On a low curse, he said, "I know I've got to stop trying to push you like that."
"No," she said softly, "it's actually really nice, the way you keep asking me out. It's just..." She flushed. "I can't believe I'm about to tell you this, because then you'll know exactly how much of a freak I really am, but I haven't exactly been out on a lot of dates."
"First of all, stop calling yourself a freak. It's really starting to piss me off. And second, guys must have been falling all over you for years, so I don't get how you not dating is even possible."
"I've always worked a lot," she explained. "And I haven't been to a normal school since I was a really little kid. This is the first time in my life that my mother hasn't been with me pretty much all the time."
He frowned. "She couldn't have been with you every second of every day."<
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"She was extremely protective. And--" She scrunched up her face as if she was embarrassed. "--I never really tried that hard to push the boundaries with her. Not until I decided to give up my career to go to school." She took a deep breath and turned to face him, brave and beautiful. "Ask me again, Sean."
The late afternoon sun was at her back and she was so radiant that for a few seconds, he almost couldn't remember how to form words. He didn't have his camera with him, but that didn't stop him from taking a picture in his head.
"Will you go on a date with me tonight?"
"I'd love to."
*
Fifteen minutes later, Sean led them into the middle of a field. "We're here. Welcome to your first official normal college student experience."
The green sign in front of them was faded enough that Serena had to step close to it and squint to make out the words. "Stanford University Frisbee Golf Course." She looked from the sign to Sean. "This is what normal college students do on a Friday night?"
"According to my parents--" When he paused, she watched him fight back the wave of grief that tried to get in as he pasted a grin on his lips. "Frisbee Golf used to be really cool back in the day."
"Which day was that, exactly?"
They both laughed, and she was glad to note that it sounded less and less rusty every time he did. Sean Morrison had been born to smile and laugh. But he clearly hadn't done it nearly enough lately, and it broke her heart. Especially when he'd obviously worked so hard to think of something "normal" that they could do in a totally off-the-grid setting where they wouldn't have to deal with people looking at them or taking more pictures.
Because she was pretty darn sure that they were going to be the only two people out on this Frisbee Golf course tonight...
He walked toward an oak tree and pulled out two Frisbees from behind it, one red, one blue. He presented the red one to her as if it were a rose. "The rules are the same as regular or miniature golf. A stroke is counted every time the Frisbee is thrown and we stop counting once we make it in. We don't have to keep score if you don't want to."
"You're not the only competitive one," she told him, even though she'd never thrown a Frisbee in her life. How hard could it be? "Why don't you show me how it's done?"