The Heart Switch: An enemies to lovers tale (The Hartman Family Book 1) by Jezabel Nightingale

Author:Jezabel Nightingale [Nightingale, Jezabel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780645806113
Published: 2023-07-10T23:00:00+00:00

That evening, I looked for Bridget in the library. She was a creature of habit, and Thursday evening was library evening. She wasn’t hard to find and didn’t complain when I sat next to her and opened my laptop.

“They won’t ask us about the Krebs Cycle again, will they?” Bridget asked as she jotted notes in a ring-bound notebook.

“It wouldn’t surprise me. I think I had a mnemonic for it.”

“Better than pneumonic.”

“You make me smile, Bridget. Thanks. Why do you study with me and let me sit with you in class?”

“Usually because you’re quiet and don’t talk. I’m not sure why I’ve let you sit with me in lectures, but again, you don’t annoy me. In Dr McMillan’s former class, we were paired, and I ended up learning from you.”

“You learnt from me?” I’d never even contemplated this might have been the case.

“I know, surprising, isn’t it? You’ve shown me that talking to someone socially isn’t always excruciating, and you make me think. I find you amusing, and, as I think I said when I was inebriated, you are easy on the eye.” One side of Bridget’s mouth turned up in a sly grin.

“What are you doing after exams?” I asked, unable to focus on any study.

“Getting ready for next semester. I’ll possibly visit a gallery or museum, and I still have some movie tickets left.” Bridget was talking and flicking through a textbook at the same time. She stopped and highlighted a passage before placing a sticky tab in the outer margin to bookmark it for later.

“I’m going home to Cassowary Point for two weeks. Come with me. Val’s all into sailing and going on some sailing camp, so you can have her room. It will be a change of scenery, and it’s warmer up north than down here in June.” I spoke quickly. This was something I’d thought about for weeks and had been dying to ask.

“Giles,” Bridget sighed as she turned from her textbook. “We need to study. Exams are next week.”

I knew when exams were. Concentration eluded me at times, and I hoped I’d be able to sit through a three-hour examination that I needed to pass. I’d started the semester with such hope, but my grades had slipped after Fitz’s death. Pat told me not to worry and assured me I was doing the work, so the information would be there in my subconscious when I needed it, but I didn’t know if I believed him or not.

We had one major exam. Although we had study notes, we knew that at fifth year, questions could draw on anything from our previous years of study. I offered for Bridget to come and study at my new apartment, but she refused, even after I pointed out different study spaces had been shown to help students and provided peer-reviewed journal articles that showed the same.

We met on the ground floor of the library instead.

I’d texted Bridget on and off over the swot week before exams, but she hardly ever replied.

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