Page 5 of Any Port in a Storm

“I didn’t even memorize my mailbox combination until the beginning of May last year.”

His chuckle is surprisingly delightful. “Might I suggest a major other than history, in that case?”

“I’m probably going to declare as an English major. I took a fabulous class last year with Dr. Spillinger, and I’d like her to be my advisor.”

Something flashes over Nick’s face.

“Do you know her?”

He tips his chin. “Yep. She’s a great teacher. You’d be in excellent hands.”

I decide not to press. “Well, that’s great to hear. So, what are you studying?”

Nick hovers by my side as I aimlessly spin the lock on my empty mailbox. “Early modern Europe. My Master’s thesis is about the Protestant Reformation and how England used it to reinforce political control.”

“Ah, so you really do hate the English,” I tease.

He cracks a smile. “I’m also focusing on how the Reformation influenced world-changing events, and how it couldn’t have happened without the invention of the printing press. Both events are essentially what led to the trickle-down of education to the masses, if you think about it. And it was a major inciting event for England to become a colonial power, which fascinates me as much as I hate it. Just my two cents, but I think Johannes Gutenberg might be the single most influential person who ever lived.”

It takes my brain a moment to process his words; to follow the rapid-fire connect-the-dots game he’s playing. Once I’ve caught up, I come to the conclusion that Nick O’Connor is a genius.

A genius, and probably also a huge nerd.

“Well, that sounds interesting.” We start to walk out of the mailroom. My mind’s urging me to slow down, though I couldn’t say why for sure. I’m pretty eager to meet up with Grace and the caffeine she’s bringing me.

“It is. In fact, I’m giving a lecture to the history club next week about it. Just to practice, you know. For when I’m an adjunct. You should come by.”

Is he…flirting with me? I look at him sidelong in time to catch a pinkish tinge brush his cheeks. “Come by for what?”

Nick narrows his eyes. “To learn. You said it sounded interesting.”

Oh. Right. “It does. I’ll…I’ll see if I’m free. I might be busy.”

He snorts. “You don’t even know when it is.”

“That’s why I said ‘might.’”

His laugh echoes against the banks of mailboxes. “Tuesday night. Seven o’clock.”

I aim for my most polite expression. “I’ll try to be there.”

Nick’s lips crinkle in amusement, calling my bluff in every way. “Perfect.”

Just then, I catch a glimpse of Grace hovering with two to-go cups in the lobby. “Well, my friend’s back with coffee. Thanks for your help with the mailboxes.”

“Happy to assist. Nice to make your acquaintance. You know, again.”

I blush in spite of myself. “Nice to meet you, too.”

On Tuesday night, Grace has to drag me to Nick’s lecture.

“He clearly knew I wasn’t serious about coming,” I tell her when she shoves me out of our dorm room. “I could tell. He was basically laughing at me when I pretended I might show up.”

“It’ll be good for you to make new friends.” She flips the magnet on our door’s whiteboard so the word “Out” is on top. “You were pretty isolated last year.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I mutter.

“Hey, just because I know why it happened doesn’t mean I wasn’t worried about you.”