By Chance (Courtland Chronicles) Read Free Page B

before I forget—you took Stevenson for early twentieth-century US history last semester, right? I was wondering if you still had your notes. He talks so fast I can’t keep up with him.”
    That was especially ironic coming from Ally; Nick had to bit his lip to keep from laughing. He dug around in the closet until he found his old US history notebook. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her as he ushered her out the door. “Save me a seat in Mitchell’s class tomorrow, otherwise we’ll end up missing each other again.”
    “Will do.” She grinned. “And good luck in there with Mr. Motormouth.”
    “Shut up.” He closed the door, then headed into the kitchen for a soda. Eric was sitting at the table, eating another bowl of soup, a thick textbook spread out open-face on the table. He glanced up briefly when Nick came in, but didn’t say anything.
    Nick sighed. As usual, it was up to him to break the stony silence. “Sorry about that. I should’ve asked if it was okay before I started inviting people over.”
    “As long as you keep it to one person at a time, it’s fine by me.” Eric finished off his last spoonful of soup before pushing his bowl away, then leaned back in his chair. From this angle he looked pale and fragile, his cheeks and jawline jutting out like razor blades. Weirdly enough, it seemed to suit him. “I’ll probably be gone this weekend, so you and your girlfriend can have the run of the place.”
    “Ally’s not my girlfriend,” he said, wincing inwardly. It’d come out a lot sharper than it’d sounded in his head. “Not anymore, anyway.”
    “Really? You two seem pretty close for exes.”
    “Good friends usually are.”
    “My mistake.” Eric dog-eared a page in his textbook before flipping it shut.
    Nick couldn’t resist glancing at the cover. “Economics, huh? Is that your major?”
    “Double major, actually, with political science.”
    Impressed, Nick stifled the urge to whistle. Most of the well-off guys in his classes skated by on “gentlemen’s C’s,” but in the short time they’d been roommates, he’d never seen Eric go more than an hour or two without burying his nose in a book. “That’s pretty heavy-duty. Guess you’re getting ready to follow in your dad’s footsteps, huh?”
    Eric’s lip curled. “Hardly. I want nothing to do with Courtland Industries or anything else my father’s involved in. Lately I’ve been considering a career in politics.”
    “You want to run for president or something?”
    “Eventually.” Eric smiled. “After I get my doctorate out of the way.”
    “Why do I get the feeling that if I look up ‘ambitious’ in the dictionary, I’ll find your picture?” Eric laughed—and this time, it actually sounded sincere. Taking it as a favorable sign, Nick yanked out the other chair and sat down. “Mind if I ask you a personal question?”
    Eric pondered it a moment, then nodded. “Go ahead.”
    “For someone who wants to run for public office, you sure don’t seem to like people that much. I haven’t seen you down in the dining hall once.”
    “That’s an observation, not a question.”
    Annoying, even if he was technically right. “Okay, then. Why do you avoid people?”
    Eric flinched. “I’m, um, not especially fond of crowds.”
    “That’s a pretty big handicap for an aspiring politician. You’ll have to give speeches in front of huge crowds when you’re campaigning.”
    “True.” Eric flashed him the same tiny half smile that had made Nick so nervous earlier. This time it sent a sharp zing! sailing through him, tingling all the way to this fingertips. What the hell? “Since you’re so astute at diagnosing my problem, how do you suggest I cure it?”
    “What time’s your first class tomorrow?”
    “Ten, I think.”
    “Good. The dining hall’s pretty deserted after nine. C’mon down with me tomorrow, and we’ll have breakfast.”
    Now Eric stiffened, shaking his head. “I don’t normally eat