Summary: Though their chemistry class is now over, the chemistry between James and Rose is just getting started.

Chapter rating: Teen

Chapter 12:

March

James frowned at Rose over the top of his glasses when she cleared her throat for what seemed like the hundredth time over the past thirty minutes.

"Can I get you something to drink?" he finally offered.

"Sorry," she said, smiling apologetically. "I've got a tickle that won't go away."

"A drink might help with that," he suggested, trying not to sound too annoyed, but, well, he had an exam the following day and it was very difficult to concentrate when someone was "ahem-chmm-ack-hem"ing every five seconds in an otherwise silent room.

"You know what, I think I'm gonna go home," Rose said, closing her textbook and her notebook with more force than strictly necessary.

Instantly chagrined, he said, "Wait, no. I'm sorry. Don't go."

"I'm obviously distracting you," she replied, stuffing her school supplies into her bag.

"No," he insisted. The way she arched her eyebrow at him made his cheeks warm. "Well, maybe a little. But honestly, Rose. Fill up your water bottle and stay. There's a fountain at the end of the hall."

"I've gone through my entire water bottle, and my throat is still tickling," she said. "I'm not sure drinking more will accomplish anything apart from making me have to wee every hour."

"Please don't go," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said with half a smile. "Really. You've got an exam tomorrow. Stay here. Study. We can hang out tomorrow."

James wanted to argue further, but he really did need to study. He'd been putting it off all week, and now he was scrambling to cram everything into his brain.

"Okay," he agreed. "Maybe pick up some orange juice or Vitamin C tablets, just in case you're fighting off a bug."

"Sure," she said, and James struggled to not roll his eyes at her dismissal. She stepped up to him and bent down to kiss the top of his head. "Good luck. Let me know how your exam goes tomorrow."

He leaned up to kiss her properly, but she pulled away. "In case I am getting sick, I don't want to infect you."

He wanted to say sod it and give her a proper goodbye kiss, but he would be utterly miserable if he had to take an exam while fighting a cold. So he nodded and accepted another kiss to the top of his head and watched Rose walk out of their study cubicle in the library.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was far more productive now that he was alone. He raced through his class notes, highlighting definitions and mathematical formulas, then moved on to the set of practice problems his professor had recommended.

When he could do each and every problem without error, James packed up his supplies and was surprised to find that it was dark when he exited the library. Well, considering it was technically still winter, it was always dark in the evenings. But a glance at his phone told him it was nearly eight o'clock. No wonder he was starving.

"Leaving the library now," he texted to Rose. "Hope you're feeling better."

He stopped at a fast-food drive-thru for a quick dinner on the way home, knowing he wouldn't feel like cooking, and not particularly wanting to scrounge up enough snacks to fill his grumbling belly. He ate half of his French fries on the drive, and was tempted to tuck into his burger, but knew he would end up with half of it in his lap.

When he opened his front door, Pippin greeted him loudly to voice his displeasure at his dinner being delayed for so long.

"Sorry, bud. I'm hungry too," he said, tossing his backpack and dinner onto his kitchen table.

He fed his cats and gave them all a quick pet—even Gollum—before diving into his own meal. Though it made him feel bloated, the greasy double-cheeseburger, fries, and chocolate milkshake hit the spot, and he was drowsy and content by the time he'd finished eating.

The tranquility evaporated, however, when he realized Rose hadn't responded to his earlier text. Bugger, was she more annoyed with him than he realized? He had been a bit of a prat, getting annoyed over such an inconsequential thing as her having a minor cough, but she hadn't seemed that upset with him. Unless he had been so absorbed in his studies that he'd misread her mood…

"I'm sorry I was snippy with you today," he sent. "Truly. I didn't mean to snap."

He drummed his fingers across his knee as he waited for her response, but one never came. At least, not until an hour later, by which time, James was about to drive to her flat and get on his knees to beg her forgiveness in person.

It's fine. I'm not upset with you. I was asleep.

James frowned at his phone. "Asleep?"

Yeah. I took a nap. Not sure it counts as a nap though when I was asleep for over three hours.

"Are you feeling all right?"

I think I'm sick. My cough has gotten worse and I'm really tired. I'm going back to bed. Love you xo.

"Do you need me to bring you anything? I can swing by tonight? Or I can bring something tomorrow morning when I pick you up?"

I'll let you know, Rose answered. G'night James.

"Nighty night. Sleep well. Love you."

James felt even worse now that he had gotten short with her that afternoon. Oh well. There was nothing to do about it now. He would make it up to her tomorrow.

Except, when he awoke in the morning, a message from Rose was waiting for him.

Don't come by to pick me up. I'm taking the day off. Good luck with your exam! Xoxo

"Oh no. You're really feeling that poorly?"

Yeah. Can't stop coughing. Not sure my classmates would appreciate me coughing every other second. You didn't appreciate it ;)

James winced at his phone. "I am sorry about that. I didn't mean to get short with you."

Rose sent him the winking kiss emoji. I know. You're lucky I love you. Try not to be a twat in the future.

"Scout's honor." He found a GIF of a salute and attached that as well.

Now that he didn't need to fetch Rose, James had time to kill and therefore treated himself to coffee and a chocolate croissant before his exam. The coffee shop was just beginning to bustle with students when James joined the short queue and ordered his breakfast. He polished off the croissant as he hiked up the hilly campus to his thermodynamics class.

He was, surprisingly, one of the last people there. All of his classmates had their heads bent together, doing some last-minute cramming before the exam. James slid into his usual seat in the middle of the room and tried to ignore the chatter, lest their voices be the ones he heard as he was trying to recall the facts and formulas he had meticulously memorized the day before.

His phone buzzed with a few minutes to go before class.

Good luck! You're gonna nail this! Xoxo

"Thank you." James nearly dropped his phone when the door banged open. "Gotta go. Prof is here. Get some rest, my love."

He was probably a terrible boyfriend to admit it, but all thoughts of Rose left his head when his professor distributed the exam packet. It was like his brain had compartments, and he tucked Rose inside one of them and opened up the compartment that housed his thermodynamics knowledge, letting that one take over for the next hour.

Though he finished the exam with fifteen minutes to spare, James stayed sitting to double check his work and to make it appear as though he was still taking the exam. It was a bit embarrassing to always be the first one done, plus he didn't want to draw attention to himself. There was a surprising—and disheartening—amount of animosity in the world of academia whenever someone appeared to effortlessly excel at something.

Now that he didn't need it anymore, thermodynamics slipped into its own compartment in his brain, and Rose came out again. He hoped she was feeling better, and he wondered how important his physics and political ideologies lectures would be that afternoon, or whether he could skip them and go visit Rose. But she would know immediately that he skipped classes to be with her and would give him a stern telling off.

Reluctantly, he retired to a couch in the library to pass the two hours until his back-to-back noon and one o'clock classes.

He went straight to Rose's flat when he had finished for the day, and he bounced on his toes as he waited for her to open her front door after he'd knocked.

She looked miserable. Her hair was limp but mussed from her pillow and the dark bags under her eyes were made worse by her pallid face.

"James?" she croaked, and that one word was enough to send her into a coughing fit. James winced at the wet, barking cough that he could practically hear rattling her chest.

"Blimey, you sound awful," he said, stepping into her flat.

"I feel awful," she said, her voice dying mid-way through her sentence. "How was your exam?"

"Fine," he said. "Think I did well. Have you eaten anything? Can I make you some soup?"

"I haven't got much in. I had some porridge for breakfast. And been drinking so much water I'm basically living on the toilet."

James reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers to her forehead and cheeks. She was burning up.

"Oh, Rose," he murmured. "I'll go out and get you some groceries. Then when I return, I'm gonna make a huge vat of chicken noodle soup. Go to sleep now, love."

The fact that she didn't argue with him nailed home just how badly she felt. He kissed the top of her head and walked with her to her bedroom to make sure she didn't stumble over her feet. The small rubbish bin by her bed was full of tissues, and the water bottle on her nightstand only had a few mouthfuls left.

"One minute," he said, grabbing the bin and bottle and retreating to the kitchen. He dumped the bin and filled the bottle, and when he returned, she was nearly half-asleep.

"I'm so sorry you're unwell," he whispered, fussing with her blankets to make sure she was completely covered. "Sleep, love. I'm going to borrow the key to your flat. I'll be back soon. Call me if you need anything."

"M'kay," she slurred, before she tucked her face under her mound of blankets and coughed violently for half a minute.

She was panting and wheezing by the end of it, and James's heart broke.

"Don't wanna get you sick," she moaned, tugging the sheets completely over her head.

"I'll be fine," he soothed, though he made a mental note to take a bunch of Vitamin C supplements to hopefully help bolster his immune system. He stroked the lump he assumed was her head then left her flat to visit the nearby grocery store.

The shop was virtually empty, thanks to it being the middle of a Monday afternoon. He raced through the store, collecting a variety of foodstuffs, not only for the soup he was going to make, but typical food items he knew Rose bought weekly. He figured she wouldn't be in the mood to do her regular shopping for quite a while yet.

When he returned to her flat, he poked his head into her bedroom, but she was fast asleep. Leaving her, he went to the kitchen and tried to make as little noise as possible to start on her soup. Every now and then, he would hear a wracking cough coming from the bedroom, but she remained in her room for the next hour and a half.

James only realized she'd emerged from her bedroom when he heard the toilet flush. He glanced over the back of the loveseat, where he had been idly reading his political ideologies textbook. Rose didn't look any better rested than she had when he first arrived. She was bundled up a hoodie he recognized as one of his and had a quilt wrapped around her like a cape.

"Feel any better?" he asked sympathetically.

"No," she said. Well, rather, she mouthed. No sound came out apart from a rasping squeak. She winced and tried again, but the same noise came out.

"Don't try to talk," James said, vaulting to his feet. "Here. Sit down. Can I make you a cuppa tea with honey and lemon? Try to soothe those vocal cords?"

She nodded and curled up in the space he'd vacated, tucking her feet beneath herself and covering up with the quilt until she was a round little ball.

James narrated his actions as he boiled the water and steeped her tea, just for something to fill the silence. He fetched her water bottle from her bedroom and handed it to her along with two decongestants.

Rose dutifully swallowed down the pills and chugged the remainder of her water, then accepted the cup of tea. She wrapped her fingers around the mug and tucked her nose against the rim, simply breathing in the scent and the steam. James refilled her water bottle and filled a glass for himself, realizing he hadn't drunk anything all afternoon.

He then plopped onto the sofa beside her and angled his body to face her. She mirrored his position, uncurling her legs to place her feet in his lap. He smiled at the fuzzy pink socks she had on.

"Are you warm enough?" he asked, glancing at her thermostat. It was a few degrees warmer than she usually kept it.

She nodded and sipped her tea. She gave him a thumbs up, which he took to mean that the tea was good. He gave her feet a small squeeze, then idly began massaging them. He rubbed his thumbs into the arch of her foot, then her ankle, then he made his way up her calf. Rose moaned and pressed her legs closer to him.

He smiled to himself and was more deliberate in how he rubbed her feet, enjoying the way her entire body slumped into the sofa.

After a few minutes, she prodded her toes into his belly, prompting him to look over.

"Thank you," she mouthed, exaggerating the words so he could read her lips, "for being here."

"There is nowhere else I would rather be," he said honestly. "It's rubbish being sick. It's even more rubbish being sick and trying to take care of yourself."

Besides, it wasn't as though he expected them to go through their lives together without either of them getting ill. His plan was to spend the rest of his life with Rose, after all, and life was as messy and gross as it was enchanting and serene. There would be days when one or both of them was ill, or in a foul mood. And if they decided to have children one day, that would just add to the beautiful chaos of their life. But he wouldn't have it any other way. If life was going to be a rollercoaster of ups and downs, there was no one else he would want to go on this ride with.

After a murmured "I love you", James resumed the process of massaging Rose's feet.

oOoOo

It took Rose a full week before she started feeling better, and nearly two until her cough went away. Unfortunately, that meant they had to cancel their spring break plans. Guilty though she was, there was no way she was up for a trip to Washington, D.C. when she was congested and feverish. Moreover, their fellow travelers probably wouldn't have appreciated being near her while she coughed up her lungs every five minutes.

"Don't worry about it," James soothed when he told her he'd canceled their train tickets and hotel reservation. "You would be utterly miserable, and I don't want that. We can hang out together here while you get better."

"I was excited to see the city," Rose grumbled, her voice raspy. "And all the museums."

"We can see it another time," James said simply, before he plied her with more soup. "Maybe next month, for the cherry blossom festival. It's beautiful to go down there when all the cherry trees are in bloom. We can make a long weekend of it, if you don't mind skipping a day or two of classes."

Though disappointed, Rose agreed to the rain check of their plans.

Gradually, her energy returned and their spring break wasn't a complete waste. They took a day trip to Lancaster County to explore the quaint towns and shops.

They woke up obnoxiously early to make the hour and a half drive in time to have breakfast at Shady Maple Smorgasbord, a huge buffet-style restaurant that was one of the main features and hot spots of the county. Though they made it to the restaurant by eight o'clock, it was utterly packed with people. Rose was dismayed to see the long line that extended out the front door, and turned to James to see where else they could have breakfast.

"Don't worry," he soothed, "we'll be in in no time."

Rose kept her doubts to herself as she hooked her arm through James's and they joined the end of the queue. He was right; the line moved steadily and they'd only been waiting for around ten or fifteen minutes by the time they made it to the front register.

"Two please," James said, forking over his credit card.

The cashier swiped his card and handed him his receipt, then motioned for them to walk down the corridor, where they would be seated momentarily.

Rose finally realized why the queue had been moving so smoothly—there had to be hundreds of tables spread throughout the dining area.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "How many people can this restaurant hold? This is larger than the university's dining hall!"

The hostess must have heard her, because she beamed and said, "We can seat approximately twenty-three hundred guests."

"Oh my God," Rose repeated dumbly.

James giggled at her and squeezed her hand, prompting her to follow their hostess through the labyrinth of tables, booths, and other diners.

"If you think this is incredible, wait 'til you see the buffet," James said, winking at her. "Come on, Rose Tyler!"

She allowed herself to be pulled away from the seating area and towards the kitchen area. Across the entire length of the room spanned a two-sided buffet station. Rose was baffled by the sheer volume of food—pancakes, waffles, toast, French toast, half a dozen varieties of bacon and sausages, something called scrapple, a dozen styles of eggs, an assortment of fresh fruits, cereal, and more.

"It's basically a human feeding trough," James said, bumping his hip into hers as he guided her along the buffet line. "I love taking a bit of everything and seeing how much stuff I can fit on one plate. But if you're in the mood for something more specific, they have an omelet and pancake station over there."

He pointed behind her shoulder to the two areas where dozens of people were lined up. Too overwhelmed by what she could order at those two stations that wasn't in the buffet, Rose instead followed her boyfriend's lead and took small portions everything she knew she liked and stole bites from James of anything she was unsure about. (Scrapple, as it turned out, was just as unappetizing as the ingredients from which it was made.)

By the time they left the restaurant, she was absolutely stuffed and felt as though she would never want to eat again.

"Good, eh?" James asked, patting his distended stomach.

"I think I just ate my entire daily caloric allowance. But yes, it was very good. Thank you."

She leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek, then followed him outside to his car.

They spent the day driving around the country and exploring the various shops that sold homemade goods: quilts, jams and jellies, candies, pies, furniture, candles, toys, decorations, and everything in between.

"God, it's beautiful out here," Rose breathed, watching the rolling hills and farmlands as they drove on winding country roads.

"Mmm," he agreed. "Some days, I think it would be nice to live out here, or somewhere similar. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city. But then there are days where I think I would miss the perks that come from city life."

"Where do you think you want to end up living?" Rose asked curiously. After all, if her plan was to spend her life with James, she ought to know where he would like to settle down. She hadn't given it much thought; she always assumed she would travel home to the UK, but here, with James, she didn't think she would mind staying in America forever.

"Not sure," he answered. "I really love the United States. I've lived here for the past seven years or so. But I loved the UK. I guess it all depends on you. You haven't been here as long; you might prefer to go back to England. Or you might not be able to get permanent residency. And it depends on how the Clinton administration handles immigration. No matter where we end up, I think I would prefer a small city. A place where there are a variety of things to do, but not a huge city like London or New York. Somewhere safe, where we can raise some kids." His cheeks went scarlet. "Er, maybe raise some kids. If we decide to have them."

Rose blinked slowly, dazed. She'd never given any thought about having children. There had been one pregnancy scare with Jimmy, and she had absolutely loathed the idea of having a child at that time. But she had only been seventeen. Now she was nearly twenty-two, in a serious, committed relationship with her very best friend. Could she see them having kids one day? She didn't know; however, she found that she did not have a violent opposition to the idea of children with James.

"You want kids?" she asked casually, although it was more of a statement than a question.

"Only… only if you do," he stammered, but Rose could practically hear the longing in his voice.

"I'm still undecided," she confessed, her heart squeezing at the subtle drooping of his shoulders. "I don't want to promise you something this important. But I'm not entirely opposed to it, either. Let's… let's revisit this conversation in a few years, when we've finished our degrees and have stable jobs, yeah?"

He smiled at her, and she was glad that the expression was genuine. "Yeah."

oOoOo

Rose was relieved to see that they weren't the only couple who had dressed up. Granted, a majority of the people in the theater were dressed normally, but they saw at least a dozen other people in various outfits and costumes. And really, with the way James's eyes shone with excitement, she couldn't feel too self-conscious.

When he had come to her the other week asking if not only would she like to attend the midnight premiere of the live-action Beauty and the Beast film, but attend in costume, Rose had nearly declined on the spot. But he'd begged and pouted until she eventually gave in; they'd spent the next week shopping at thrift stores for clothing they could alter. Rose was pleasantly surprised to find out that, not only could James sew, he could sew very well.

"My mum loved to sew," he explained as he made alterations to the golden dress they had found for Rose. He added layers to the skirts to fill it out a bit, and he fastened some beads and sequins to make it sparkle. "She loved to make quilts and to repurpose old clothing into something new. She started teaching me when I was old enough not to get my fingers caught in the sewing machine. It's a useful skill; I can hem and adjust my clothes if it isn't fitting exactly the way I'd like it to."

"Jack of all trades," Rose said, pillowing her head on his shoulder to watch him put the finishing touches on her gown.

Presently, Rose watched James standing in the concessions queue. She admired the way his outfit had come together, with his fitted black trousers that clung deliciously to his legs, frilly white undershirt, and blue suit jacket. He'd slicked his hair back and the ends were barely long enough that he'd clipped a blue bow to it.

She, meanwhile, had opted for a wig rather than dye her hair brown, and the ends cascaded around her shoulders while the rest of it was knotted atop her head in a bun. The skirts of her golden ball gown fluttered around her ankles as she absently swayed to the quiet music filtering through the lobby's stereo system.

James returned to her a few minutes later with a large tub of popcorn, a bottle of water, and a large cup filled with brown slush.

"Er…?"

"A slushie!" James crowed, taking a long sip from the straw. "Well, I think Icee is technically the brand. Coke slushie. It's marvelous."

"I thought you didn't like soda," Rose asked, though she took the cup from James and tried it.

She realized why he would drink this as he said, "The carbonation is basically gone, or at least masked by the slush. No uncomfortable fizzies on my tongue."

Rose nodded and continued absently sipping from the cup as they walked down the hall and towards the theater room. She'd only ever had fruity slushes, but had to concede that the soft drink slush was nice too.

A huge cardboard cutout of the Beast's castle stood at the end of the corridor, and James asked, "Can we take a photo in front of that?"

Rose nodded and they set their snacks on a nearby bench, then asked a fellow cinema patron to take their photo. They wrapped their arms snugly around each other's waists and beamed at the person holding James's phone.

"I took a couple, in case some are better than others," the stranger said, returning the phone to James. "Excellent costumes."

"Thanks," James said. "Cheers, mate."

They collected their popcorn and beverages, then entered the theater. It was only half-full when they walked in, so they had no trouble finding a place to sit. Rose was relieved to see that the seats were luxuriously wide, easily accommodating the thick skirts of her dress.

Rose hadn't seen Beauty and the Beast since she was a small child, but she did remember it had been one of her favorites. This adaptation made her fall in love with the film all over again. She fell in love with James all over again, too, as he hummed the songs under his breath, bouncing and shimmying in his seat with the rhythm.

"I love you," she whispered into his ear after he'd finished bopping to Be Our Guest.

He turned to her and grinned, planting a quick, sloppy kiss to her lips before returning his attention to the screen. She snuggled into his side and held his hand throughout the remainder of the film.

"God, that was fantastic!" James moaned as the credits began to roll. "The music… the casting… Emma did a brilliant job with the role. Dan, too. Very easy on the eyes, isn't he? Not that Emma's not, she's beautiful, but Dan Stevens… and his voice…" He sighed happily. "And don't get me started on Ewan McGregor."

Rose giggled as she twined her fingers through his. "I'm glad you're secure enough in yourself to admit that."

"Why shouldn't I?" he squawked, indignant. "You know I love you very much, and that I think you're absolutely beautiful. But I can appreciate the beauty of other people too. Just because I find someone physically attractive doesn't mean I want to… to shag them or anything."

"I know," Rose soothed. "I was just messin' with you."

James smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

"I love that you're so comfortable with me to tell me these things," Rose said, squeezing his hand. "I didn't mean to make you feel self-conscious or defensive."

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and settled back into his seat to listen to the music that accompanied the credits. Rose rested her head on his shoulder, drowsy. It was rare for her to stay up this late, but she had thoroughly enjoyed herself. Though she'd had reservations at first, she was glad James had convinced her to dress up for the show.

They exited the theater when the credits were finished, and Rose shivered when they walked out into the frigid late-March night. They nearly ran to his car, but it was as cold in there as it was outside. James reached into the back seat for the blanket he always kept there.

"Thanks," Rose said, tucking it around her shoulders.

"Ooof, I should've visited the loo before we left," James said, grimacing as he fixed the seatbelt strap so it didn't dig as hard into his lower abdomen. "Ah well. We'll be home soon."

"If you get truly desperate, there's this slushie cup," Rose said, wiggling it at him.

He scrunched his nose. "Ew. No thanks. I can hold it."

He must have really had to go, though, because he drove faster than normal. When they made it to his house, he unlocked the front door and left her behind as he sprinted down the hall to the guest bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind himself. She heard a lot of muffled cursing, then she tried her best to tune out the sound of him using the toilet. Instead, she turned to the two drowsy cats curled up on the couch and absently stroked their chins.

James returned to the living room a minute later, his dress shirt untucked from his trousers.

"Feel better?" she asked with a smirk.

He smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. Sorry. I had to wee since the ballroom scene, then forgot about it. I really had to go. God, that's embarrassing. You just heard everything, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she confessed. "But if we're gonna spend the rest of our lives together, we ought to get used to all bodily functions, eh?" She came up to him and slung her arms loosely around his shoulders. "Besides, I'm quite familiar with your private parts by now. I know your cock isn't only used for sex."

His cheeks turned an adorable shade of crimson. "It's still a bit weird, though. But something I'll get used to, no doubt."

"That's the spirit," she laughed, planting a firm kiss to his lips. "Come on, you. I'm exhausted. And I have to wee too—if it makes you feel better, you can listen in."

James rolled his eyes and pinched her side, but dutifully followed her down the hall to their bedroom.

Rose slept like a rock that night. She had no dreams, and was barely aware when James slipped out of bed to get ready for his morning lab.

"See you later," he murmured to her, kissing her cheek. "Love you."

She grunted something that hopefully resembled an "I love you, too," but with the way he laughed at her, she wasn't sure she managed. She fell right back to sleep and didn't stir until her alarm woke her up an hour and a half later.

Groaning, she silenced it, then grabbed her phone and rolled over to hug James's pillow to her chest. It smelled like him, and she buried her nose deeper into the fabric while she mindlessly scrolled on her phone. A couple texts from James and a message on WhatsApp awaited her.

She opened James's messages first.

Life-giving bean juice acquired. He'd attached a selfie of himself holding a large cup of coffee in front of his face. She grinned at the photo.

I forgot to bring food. Wanna meet for lunch in the dining hall?

"You sexy Beast," she typed, adding a winking kiss emoji. "And yeah, lunch sounds great. I'm still tucked away in bed."

Little dots popped up seconds before James answered with the looking eyes emoji and the words Pics please?

She rolled her eyes and grinned to herself as she tucked her face into the pillow and gathered up the blankets to her ears, obscuring her from view. She snapped the photo—she was barely visible—and sent it to him with a wink.

He replied with a frowning face, then the large-eyed pleading face.

Laughing, Rose rolled onto her back and pushed the blankets down to her hips. Her camisole had shifted, and though her breasts were covered, there was a generous amount of top- and side-boob on display, as well as a sliver of her lower belly. She stuck her tongue out at the camera and snapped the photo before sending it to him.

He responded with the drooling face, heart eyes, star eyes, and half a dozen red hearts.

You're gorgeous. Wish I was there with you.

"Hmmm, and what would we be doing?"

Definitely not this damn physics lab.

Sigh. Sorry, love. I gotta go.

My prof is gonna incinerate me with a laser if I look at my phone one more time.

Love you loads! See you for lunch.

"See ya xoxo."

Rose groaned and stretched, then rolled over onto her side once more. She had another ten minutes before she absolutely needed to get up and get a shower. So she checked her email—noting with delight that her afternoon composition class was cancelled—and her social media.

She finally remembered the awaiting message on WhatsApp, and wondered which of her London friends had messaged her.

None of them, as it turned out. There was no name, just a number that was undoubtedly the London area. The message was a simple Hey.

Hmm. Wrong number? Scam message? One of her friends with a new number?

"Sorry, who's this?" Rose asked, then she rolled out of bed to get ready for her day.

She showered hurriedly, not bothering to shave her legs despite not having done it all week. James, thankfully, didn't care if her legs were stubbly, a refreshing change from some of the other blokes she'd dated.

As she finished blow drying her hair, her phone buzzed: another text from the mystery number. She turned off the hair dryer and picked up her phone. Her blood turned to ice at the new message.

Aw come on. Don't be like that Rosie.

Nausea roiled through her stomach and clawed up her throat, making her head swim. Her body went cold even as sweat prickled across her brow. There had only ever been one person who called her Rosie…

Her phone buzzed with another message, but she already knew who the mystery number belonged to without needing to be told.

It's me. Jimmy.

As always, if you've read this chapter, I would love to hear from you.