The next couple of weeks passed by in a blur of activity – most of it with Simon Bricker in tow. Cora felt like a member of aristocracy with some butler or footman attending her at all hours. She did make him go home in the evenings, but most days were spent with him very close underfoot. She was surprised she hadn't tripped over him yet.
Not that she wasn't grateful to him. He knew a great deal about art, and they spent much of their time together discussing it, viewing it, and deciding where to go next. Simon also asked her about her home life, her family, New York and Newport. She attempted to reciprocate, to ask him about himself, but he tended to shrug and shake his head, insisting that his own life would make for very uninteresting talk, disclosing little. Cora didn't want to press him; sometimes people had things in their lives they would rather not discuss. So she talked about herself when he asked – otherwise, they stuck to travel, art, and their itinerary.
And they went everywhere, including spending several days in London, which she would admit she loved. Simon made it clear that he was interested in her, but Cora… well, she couldn't see encouraging him.
Not while Robert Crawley was in the world.
On the days they weren't traveling and seeing things, Cora and Simon spent time at Oxford, attending some of the classes her supervising professor taught. In one of them, a basic introduction to art history, she'd noticed a tall, dark haired young man with sparkling blue eyes and a slightly crooked, good-natured smile. The way he carried himself she could only call aristocratic. He had a perfectly beautiful high forehead and round cheeks and a chin she wanted to kiss. She couldn't remember being so smitten with a boy just from how he looked.
But it wasn't only that. Professor Arundel tended to call on students in the class to answer questions, and when Cora heard the musical tones of Robert's voice, his polished accent, she thought she'd swoon then and there.
Head over heels. She tried to control this – what she put down to hormones, a mere infatuation, a harmless crush – but, crush or not, she had fallen head over heels already. For a man she barely knew. Because of this, she did something she wouldn't normally have done.
The second week, during the second introduction class that she attended, Mr. Crawley (as he was called by the professor) proudly responded to a question with a wrong answer, his face flushing slightly after he realized he'd made a mistake. Timidly, Cora offered the correct answer, earning her a first real look from this beautiful young man.
He didn't seem exactly happy to have been shown up.
After class Cora eluded Simon, leaving him to speak to Professor Arundel, and approached Robert. "I – um – hello. I don't think we've met," she began, nerves making her voice tremble.
Robert stuck his book into his leather bag and stared at her extended hand, evidently bewildered. "Er, no. We haven't."
"You're Robert Crawley, aren't you?" She let her hand fall to her side, a faint blush rising in her face.
"I am. And you're the exchange student?" His eyebrows lifted, even as his eyes shifted from her to the doorway.
Cora's heart fell. "Yes. Well, study abroad student. Cora Levinson. Um – I do apologize if this is in any way offensive to you, Robert," she continued hurriedly, seeing how uninterested he was in speaking to her, "but I thought that if you were having trouble in the class that you might want to study for your exam with me?"
His eyes shifting back to her face, his brows rose even higher on his head. "You think I can't study for this exam on my own?"
Sighing, she looked down at her hands in front of her. "I really didn't mean to offend. I simply thought it might be nicer to study with someone."
"I will –" Robert began, but was interrupted by the professor, who raised his voice to the entire room.
"Attention! I have been informed that many of you would like to gather for a drink or some such thing, but I'm not sure where might be the best place for it."
Closing her eyes briefly, Cora opened them again as she turned and piped up before anyone else could, "I would be happy for everyone to come to my flat. You are all welcome. There is plenty of room and drinks and food. Please – I'd like that very much."
Simon blinked at her even as Robert did the same.
"Thank you, Ms. Levinson," Professor Arundel said. "Your flat is walking distance, correct?" At her nod, he replied, "Lead the way!"
Amid excited banter and the sounds of students picking up their school bags, Simon maneuvered his way to Cora and took her elbow, steering her from Robert and to the door of the classroom. She sent a wistful look back toward the beautiful boy who'd already entered into conversation with one of his mates, sparing no look for her. As they all made their way to her flat, following her and Simon, she realized that one of the voices directly behind her was Robert's, and, if she listened carefully, she could hear what he said. Shushing Simon, she did just that.
"Mate, you caught the eye of that adorable American bird!" said his friend.
Robert's voice was flat. "I suppose. You know my mother wouldn't approve."
"So? Bloody hell, Robert, not everything has to end in marriage or even meeting your mother. The girl will be gone in a few weeks – why not indulge yourself?"
"Stop that. I'm not here just to indulge myself." Cora could hear his voice replete with disgust at the suggestion, and she couldn't decide whether this made her despair or not. "I have responsibilities. Something you obviously don't understand."
The conversation behind her abruptly ended when she got to her door, shaking Simon's hand off her arm so she could unlock it.
"Everyone is welcome to anything in the kitchen or the bar," she announced when she turned to the others. Slipping into the door, she left it open wide as she went to close her bedroom door, not wanting anyone to enter it.
Professor Arundel sidled up to her as the others poured drinks and opened bags of chips. "Ms. Levinson, I thought the program provided living arrangements? This is not what they usually provide. This is… almost opulent."
Cora hesitated. What could she say? She heard her mother's voice in her head from when she'd seen internet pictures of the "accommodations": "Cora Catherine! There is no way I'm letting you live in a shoebox of a room for six weeks! Your father and I are going to come up with something much better, and I don't want you to object! No way in hell is my daughter going to live there!" Martha had promptly contacted friends of theirs in Oxford, friends who had a beautiful flat and tended to go to France for two months in the winter to visit their children abroad for the holidays.
"Friends of the family, professor," Cora said simply by way of explanation. "They insisted I use their flat." She smiled and flourished a hand to the bar. "You should have some refreshment, sir."
"So I shall." He made as if to go, then paused, putting one hand on her forearm in a fatherly fashion. "I want to say how well you've done, Ms. Levinson. Your papers have been top notch, and I can tell you're keen on the subject. My teaching assistant, Mr. Bricker, has nothing but praise for your performance."
Blushing again, Cora lowered her lashes. "Thank you, Professor Arundel. I can't express how grateful I am for the opportunity."
"Yes, well, you deserve it." With a smile, the professor left to pour himself a drink, joining the students in merry chatter.
Before she could join the others, Simon walked up with a drink in each hand. "I brought you a rum and coke," he said. "I remember you said you liked those." He smiled his handsome smile at her, but Cora's eyes strayed to where Robert and his mates drank Scotch in a corner.
"I do. Thank you, Simon." She took it, but didn't drink. "Shouldn't you mingle? You spend so much time with me; your students will appreciate your attention for a while." Cora's expression was one of mild interest.
"Oh, I suppose so. Let me know if I can do or get anything for you, Cora, alright?"
"Yes, of course." She smiled softly, then grimaced slightly when he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
Watching him walk away, she shook her head, then fixed her eyes on Robert. His smile made her knees weak. And when his eye caught hers, the smile still on his face, Cora thought her knees might actually buckle as she sucked in a hot breath. She sat, putting the drink Simon had brought her on an end table.
Cora sat in the same place most of the evening, various students sitting with her and talking for a while. For hours, she conversed, one eye always on Robert. Eventually he wandered her way and sat next to her.
Robert offered her a glass. "It's soda water." He sipped at his Scotch. "I want to apologize if I seemed rude earlier. I – I'm not used to doing so poorly in a subject, and your offer of help rankled me. It's not your fault."
With a smile, Cora drank some of the fizzy liquid. "It's quite alright, Robert."
"No, well, it's not alright. There's no excuse for my displaying poor manners. Particularly in light of your gracious offer of your time and patience with a dullard."
"I don't think you're a dullard," Cora said, chuckling, relaxing beside him. "I simply think you need some one on one attention with this subject area." She watched him sip and nod. "What are you studying here?"
"The classics," he answered, looking down in his glass as he held it between his knees, his elbows on his thighs.
Cora drained the glass and put it aside. "That sounds interesting."
Robert shrugged. "To me at least." He glanced up at her, the flush returning to his cheeks. "Would you help me, Cora?"
It was the first time he'd said her name, and Cora thought she'd melt from the way he said it. She smiled brightly. "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't mean to. Would you like to meet here tomorrow at nine am? We can spend a few hours studying and then…." She hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Then perhaps we could have some lunch?"
"I'm supposed to have lunch with my sister tomorrow. But we can study until then. I don't have to meet her until one." He grinned at her, a genuine grin.
Cora's heart skipped a beat. She tried not to bite her lip or breathe too hard. But he sat so close and smelled so good, it was hard to breathe normally. "Yes, come knock on my door at nine. I'll be ready."
"Thank you, Cora. I'll be here." He looked at the clock. "If I'm to do that, I should go get some sleep. It's nearly midnight already."
"Goodness, it is, isn't it?" Cora glanced at the clock incredulously. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
"Tomorrow," he said with a curt nod and slight smile at her.
Cora watched him walk away, trying to keep her thoughts about his tight ass out of her head, but unable to do so.
In Robert's wake, people drifted out of the flat, leaving her and Simon alone.
"One more drink, Simon?" Cora asked good-naturedly, opening her computer.
"One more, yes," he said, pouring them each one and handing her a glass.
"Thank you." She put the glass aside as Simon sat next to her on the couch. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "but my mother talks to me every night around this time."
Simon opened his mouth to respond, but a noise interrupted.
"There she is now…." Cora clicked on the word to accept the Skype call. "Hi, Momma!"
"Baby, how are you?" Martha's grinning face reflected Cora's.
"I'm doing well. A bit tired, but I've had people over tonight." Cora glanced at Simon out of the corner of her eye. He sat quietly, sipping his drink, watching the bit of the computer screen he could see. She didn't care if he heard the conversation – it was usually fairly tame. Tame being a relative term, since it involved her mother.
"You had people over? What people?"
"Oh, some students from one of the art history classes. They wanted to get together for drinks or something, so I volunteered this place. And they were very well-behaved." She chuckled.
Martha laughed. "I'm glad to hear that, since that apartment isn't yours. Oh wait –" Tilting her head, she squinted her eyes. "Fuck. Your father is calling something down the hallway, and I can't tell what he's saying. Be right back, Cora?"
"Sure, Momma," she said, watching her mother move out of the frame as she yelled up the hallway.
Turning her head, she smiled a bit at Simon, who smiled back, waiting patiently, sipping his drink.
"Yo!"
The voice startled her. The screen now showed her brother. "Hey!"
"Mother's got to help Dad with something. So I thought I'd see what you're getting into."
Cora giggled. "Nothing, really. Just studying the art, Harold."
"Ha – likely story." He shook his head. "Bang any Brits yet, sis?"
From beside her Cora heard a choking noise, then coughing. "Okay there, Simon?" He nodded, still coughing, his hand held to his mouth as he looked at her.
"Who's that?" Harold asked.
"It's Simon. He's the teaching assistant for my supervising professor here. Grad student." She shifted the computer over a little so Harold could see. "Say hi to my stoner brother. And don't mind what he says. He's joking."
"No, I'm not," he insisted while Simon waved with his free hand, finally having stopped coughing and now wiping at the moisture gathered in the corners in his eyes. "Trying to get rid of her for good. And if she bangs a Brit she might stay over there."
"Harold!" she squeaked out, half amused and half mortified, swiveling the screen back to herself. "Don't say things like that! And what happened to you being nice to me?"
Her brother rolled his eyes. "That went out the window when I decided to dump Kristin."
"I thought you really liked her. You said so, Harold." Cora's brow furrowed.
"Yeah, well, she still thought I needed to be responsible." His eyes darted to the side; Cora knew this was how he acted when he wanted to be evasive.
"Oh, don't stop there, super stoner." She shook her head. "There is no way that's all. Give me the rest of the story." Crossing her arms, she waited, forgetting Simon was even there.
Harold grimaced and hesitated, but eventually mumbled. "Well, she likes to ride horses, right? So I got her some Christmas gifts –"
"You got her gifts? You never do that!" Cora interrupted, her eyes wide.
"Exactly!" he said, his voice becoming clearer. "I got her several things, including a fancy new riding crop."
"Um-hmm." She nodded, encouraging him to continue.
"She called me a pervert, walked out, and won't speak to me anymore! She won't even let me explain!" His sigh made Cora frown. She could tell he was more upset than he would ever let on. "That's the trouble with having parents who are sex therapists. Everyone thinks you're into some kinky shit."
"Uh, I hesitate to point out that it sounds like – you know – she dumped you." Cora chewed on her lip.
"Way to rub salt in the wounds, sis. Thanks." Looking behind him, he nodded. "And on that note, I'm off to smoke the good stuff. Later, Cor." He stood, waving awkwardly as Martha took his seat.
"Nice talk?" Martha asked. Without waiting for an answer, she launched into a story of how Isidore had gotten himself tangled in some new Christmas lights and needed her to extricate him.
After a while, Cora began yawning, the lateness of the hour beginning to catch up with her.
"Oh, here I am prattling on, and you should get some sleep. I forget how much later it is there sometimes. I'm sorry, baby." Martha sighed. "I miss you, Cora."
"I miss you too, Momma. But I'll talk to you again tomorrow night." Blowing a kiss at the screen, she smiled. "Give Daddy a kiss for me too."
"Okay. And he'll want to talk to you tomorrow. He just wanted to get those lights up tonight. I'll send you pictures."
"Yes, I want to see. Goodnight, Momma. I love you."
"Goodnight, Cora. I love you too. Sweet dreams." She, too, blew a kiss at the screen before signing off.
Cora yawned again, closing her computer and stretching. She nearly laughed aloud to see Simon curled into a corner of the couch, his arms wrapped around himself. Shaking him gently by the shoulder, she whispered, "Simon? Simon, don't you want to go home?"
He mumbled something unintelligible and hugged himself tighter, barely opening his eyes.
Chuckling, Cora crossed the room to a chair, picking up a blanket and crossing back with it. "I suppose you're staying here tonight. Take your shoes off at least, and you can stretch out on the couch."
Simon blinked hard, trying to stay awake long enough to shove his shoes off his feet and swing his legs up on the cushions. As Cora spread the blanket out over him, he fixed his eyes on her face long enough to murmur, "Your parents are sex therapists?"
Cora laughed. "Yes. I usually leave that detail out, though. It can be an embarrassing conversation."
"Hmmm," he hummed in assent, his eyes closing again, falling fast asleep.
Turning out the lights and walking to her room, Cora smiled to herself. Not about the man sleeping on her couch – truth be told, she didn't have another thought about him after she'd tucked him up.
Robert would be there tomorrow. The smile grew wider as she changed into her night clothes and got into bed, snuggling down into the blankets.
"Robert," she whispered. When she closed her eyes the image dancing before them was of his slightly crooked smile and bright blue eyes. She, too, fell asleep, his name upon her lips.