Page 55 of His Reckless Freshman

I just need to figure out how to do this without feeling like some creeper.

She asked me to help her.

So… you know, I’m being helpful.

I should be flattered. She trusts me enough to show her how to feel safe in a bedroom. That’s an honor.

Not that she knows me very well. We’ve only met three times. That’s it.

Running a hand through my hair, I pace back to the window and nearly jump out of my skin when there’s a knock on the door.

Rushing over to answer it, I will my roiling stomach to calm the hell down and manage to paste on a smile just before I open the door.

She’s standing there in jeans and a pale blue button-down shirt.

That must be the color of the night, I guess, but it suits her. Her eyes look brighter, and even though they’re gray, in this shirt, they have a blue tint to them.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she gives me a twitchy smile. “Hi, Ben.”

“Hey, Jolie.” I pull the door open even wider and silently invite her in.

She fists her hand around her bag strap and inches into the room. “This is nice.”

“Yeah.” The door clicks shut behind me. It feels deafening.

I try not to notice and quickly fill the silence to ease the obvious tension between us.

“It was built in 1927.” And then I start rattling off everything I learned from the pamphlet I was reading after my shower.

Seriously. She doesn’t need to know this shit!

But she nods along like she’s interested, slipping the bag off her shoulder and perching on the chaise.

“I like this.” She runs her hand over the pale blue velvet. “I don’t think I’ve ever sat on one before. I never understood why it only had one arm, you know?”

I smile and walk across to sit beside her. “Apparently, they’re called fainting couches. You know, for all the swooning women in the 1920s.”

She laughs. “I love that scene in Bridgerton when Cressida Cowper swoons to get the prince’s attention.” She rolls her eyes. “What a tactic. I’m so glad women don’t act like that anymore.”

“Yeah.” I laugh. “They had their tricks.”

“I guess they kind of had to. Their sole job seemed to be finding a suitable husband, and the competition was fierce.” She makes a face. “So glad I was born in this day and age.”

I nod, aware that we’re both starting to relax as we talk about this stuff.

So I keep the conversation going. “How far through are you again?”

“Huh?”

“What season?”

“Oh. I’m nearly at the end of Season 3 now, although I’m not liking it as much as Season 2. I think that’s my favorite. I love Anthony and Kate’s romance. Anthony is my favorite Bridgerton boy, I think. He can be a little grumpy at times, but he was under so much pressure during his season. And the way he felt about Kate and how he was trying to fight it…” She pats her chest and swoons back against the chaise.

I laugh, catching her wrist and pulling her back up. “My favorite season is the last one with Benedict and Sophie.”

Her mouth pops open.

I laugh, shaking my head. “I told you my sisters make me watch it. Once all eight episodes are out, Kelly arranges a siblings’ weekend, and I’m forced to go along and binge the show.”