Nancy glanced down at her outfit, her arm tucked through Bess's as they walked down Greek Row. She had picked up an Emerson t-shirt in the campus bookstore, and she had even picked up a length of purple ribbon to wrap around the elastic of her ponytail. Her jeans were her second-favorite pair, and her sneakers were a little beat up. She wanted to look like another fan, someone who wouldn't earn a second glance, and Bess had decided to take one for the team.
Nancy's best friend looked like a socialite on her way to the opening of an incredibly expensive nightclub. Bess's long blonde hair fell in gorgeous curls down her nearly bare back; the short dress she wore was held up by a delicate chain that looped behind her neck, and the shimmering material caught any light and threw it back in a dazzling display, undulating along with her curves. Her heels were so high that just looking at them made Nancy wince, and she had asked Nancy to apply a glittery temporary tattoo at the small of her back, just for that extra little something. Nancy had laughed, but she had done it, and now a winking fairy peeked just above the low curve of her dress's back.
As soon as Bess walked into the party, all eyes would definitely be on her. Her polished nails were decorated in dark violet and tangerine tiger stripes, her eyeliner was perfect, and she exuded confidence. She would be absolute catnip.
Just in case, Nancy had already told Bess that they would stay where they could see each other at all times. If Nancy figured out which room the stolen painting was in, Bess would serve as lookout, playing a little tipsy, and give Nancy enough time to get out. Then… then, well.
"Seriously. Be careful," Nancy told Bess, not bothering to make it a whisper. It was just solid advice.
"You too," Bess replied.
Dean Jarvis had contacted Nancy's father through a mutual friend, and Bess had been the one to persuade Nancy to do it. A college full of hot guys was a total no-brainer for Bess. George, who would watch ESPN over a soap opera any day, had lit up about their playoff chances.
"In what?" Bess had asked, batting her eyelashes. "Anyone I should look up?"
"Half their basketball team has an excellent shot at going pro. The quarterback's incredible, and the baseball team, softball team…" George had shaken her head. "Hell, I'd apply."
And George, Nancy figured out, was who she was really channeling. She wasn't dressed to attract any interested gazes from any of the fraternity brothers or their guests. In fact, after all she had heard about fraternity parties, a significant part of her didn't even want to walk in, and she had faced down drug runners, blackmailers, and extortionists.
This was just a house of drunken guys and she hadn't let her judo techniques get rusty. She kept trying to reassure herself that everything was going to be fine, but she was all too aware that she was going to have to protect Bess if anything went down.
In the house, the party was loud and the mood was happy. Yes, she stopped counting the number of red Solo cups she saw in the grips of the guests or clustered on the tables and shelves. Yes, the scent of alcohol hit her as soon as they walked near the kitchen. And, most gratifyingly, yes—gazes lit on Bess, the flame to the moths, while Nancy became furniture.
The only image of the thief had revealed a ring with a large stone on the thief's right pinky finger, and a t-shirt that had been given out at a fundraiser event last year, but one that was specific to participants. And all of those participants had been a member of one of the three highest-profile fraternities on campus. The thief had light skin. And that was the extent of her clues so far. Her suspect was a sophomore at least, athletic enough to have made it through the museum's security system without tripping any alarms, and Nancy had tested that herself. Amazing upper body strength and dexterity had been required.
That, or… Nancy watched a tall, slender guy push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and nod to a guest as he headed for the stairs. Someone who had been so good at breaching security that he had left absolutely no clues.
But this was what they had to go on, so Nancy set her jaw and got to work.
The first house was a bust; too many locked bedroom doors, and too many potential witnesses. Guys actually groaned when Bess announced her departure. None of them had even noticed Nancy, which was perfect.
The next, Nancy felt her skin crawling as soon as they walked in. The theme for the night's party was all red and black, with plenty of red lights and black capes, devil horns and skulls. All of that was fine, and almost comical. But the fraternity members seemed to be taking it far too seriously. One approached Bess; he wore silver, black, red, and gold bead necklaces, his dark hair was stiffly gelled, and his expression was best described as a leer. Bess laughed at whatever she said, but when he headed over to the punch table, casting a few glances back at Bess to confirm she was still there, Bess smiled and then grabbed Nancy's arm, and they bolted for the exit.
"No," Bess said. "Not now."
"The beads?"
"You have to 'earn them,'" Bess said, grimacing. "Different thing for each color."
"Did you ask if he had?"
Bess glanced over at Nancy and burst out laughing. "Wish I had," she replied. "Damn. Prick."
Nancy turned back when they had crossed to the next house, which was alight but didn't seem to be hosting a party, and considered. Maybe very late, people would be passed out, but they would also be in their beds. She sighed. A housekeeping ruse would have been perfect, but she didn't know if the houses employed them…
Party cleanup. Damn. It would be perfect to pose as someone who was selling that service. She made a mental note. A thief would likely make an excuse to remove "a package" and she would have her lead.
After their visit to the third house, Bess had amassed a coterie of admirers and Nancy had searched three bedrooms. She had some ideas about what to do, had eliminated a few of her suspects, so the night wasn't a total wash, but she couldn't help feeling disappointed. Maybe she had made some progress, but she had wanted to find the culprit and recover the stolen goods, dammit.
Bess blew some kisses as they headed out, laughing as she and Nancy walked down the front steps and turned in the direction of Nancy's Mustang. "I don't see something bulky under your shirt…"
Nancy sighed. "I've eliminated some people, but I haven't found it yet."
"Oh, honey. You'll figure it out."
"You're definitely not torn up about it."
Bess smiled. "Oh, no, we'll be spending longer at Emerson," she mock-complained, singsong. "Oh, whatever will I do with all these phone numbers I've collected tonight…"
They weren't far from Nancy's car when she and Bess saw a young woman, clearly upset, standing in front of another girl who was sitting behind her, on the edge of the sidewalk, holding her stomach. The standing woman's chin was up and she was glaring at a tall guy. He was easily a head taller than she was.
After everything they had seen that night, Nancy immediately felt defensive, but the guy… he had his hands up, palms out, and wasn't making any feints or aggressive moves. His expression was one of concern, and he didn't appear obviously drunk.
"Can we help?" Nancy called out, once they were close enough.
The young woman standing on the sidewalk cast a quick glance in their direction and nodded. "My friend is feeling sick," she said.
"And I was offering to give her a ride to the student clinic," the tall man said, his tone calm and even. "Since she doesn't look like she could reach it on foot."
The sick friend, for her part, was groaning and seemed to be completely disconnected from the confrontation in front of her. Her mascara had run; tears were slowly sliding down her cheeks.
Bess knelt to talk to the sick friend, while Nancy gave the young woman a quick smile. "I'd be happy to give you both a ride," she said. "My car isn't far away, but if she can't walk, I'll pull it around. I just… don't know where the clinic is."
The young woman was flushed and clearly upset, and had backed away from the tall man to glance back at her friend. Her posture was still defensive, like she was afraid he was going to snatch up her friend and bolt at any moment, and given everything else she had seen tonight, Nancy actually couldn't blame her for that.
"I don't either," she admitted.
Just then, the girl sitting on the ground turned her head and retched violently.
The tall man made a quiet, frustrated sound. "If me driving isn't an option, can I at least come with you to give directions?"
Figuring out how to cram five people into Nancy's Mustang was, as usual, ridiculous. Eventually Bess helped the sick girl and her friend into the backseat, and the tall man, since he was navigating, swung into the front passenger seat. It was also, Nancy figured, the only place in the car that could accommodate his long legs.
It was only once he was seated beside her, after she had started the ignition and made sure everyone was in relative comfort, that Nancy turned and looked into his eyes for the first time. They were dark, long-lashed, and his hair was equally dark. His jaw was square, his lips full, and he was incredibly, classically handsome. Broad chest and shoulders, muscular and well-built. He was easily the most gorgeous man she had ever been this close to.
Jesus, she almost said, and caught herself just in time. But he didn't look away, and neither did she.
Then she blinked and managed to break the spell just enough to mutter, "Now what?"
"First left."
The student clinic was a five-minute drive, and was staffed; Nancy supposed that was just common sense, given the number of frat parties going on. The tall guy helped the friend support the sick girl as she walked inside, nearly doubled over and slow to respond to commands.
"Drunk? Drugged?" Nancy murmured to Bess as they followed.
Bess shook her head. "Didn't sound like it. Maybe it's her appendix. I don't know. She's hurting so much she can barely talk."
Nancy grimaced. She had heard the groans coming from the backseat, and had just hoped they would make it before another attack came on.
Bess nudged her. "Speaking of numbers. You better get that absolute hottie's digits."
Nancy snorted and nudged Bess right back. "That girl is sick."
"And? Talking to the dude isn't going to make her sicker."
Once the sick girl was checked in and seated next to her concerned friend, Nancy gave the friend her name and number in case she needed any help, and they left. The tall guy sighed, glancing at his watch. "Great," he groaned.
"Late to be out, huh."
"Well, you know. Game tomorrow." He nodded at her shirt.
Nancy glanced down. She had barely glanced at the choices in the bookstore before grabbing something in her size. Welcome to Wildcat Country! Emerson leads the pack!
"Yeah," Nancy replied with a smile when she glanced back up and met his dark-eyed gaze. "We're totally stoked about it."
"And who are you here to cheer on? Anyone special?"
Nancy's mind, already tired from the lateness of the hour and sapped even more by the disappointment of making so little progress, groped frantically at the little she remembered from George's breathless recaps of Emerson's most recent games. "Uh—Nickerson," she blurted, even as her cheeks colored slightly.
The tall man smiled.
"Yeah, he—he's great," Nancy said, horrified to hear herself continue talking, just digging herself in deeper. "You know they're saying he might go pro."
"Oh," the tall man replied, though he didn't sound startled. "Well, look. You already have your tickets for the game?"
Bess nudged Nancy. Nancy risked a glance over at her and saw Bess's eyebrows rise in exhortation.
"Uh—you need a ride? Back to Greek Row?"
He smothered a huge yawn and nodded. "If it's no trouble," he said. "And I'll call the clinic in the morning, make sure that girl's doing okay. It was really nice of you to give her a ride."
Bess shrugged. "Least we could do."
Nancy's identical response died on her lips, and she swallowed. If the tall man were a member of one of the fraternity houses she needed access to, it would pay to cultivate his interest in her—and while he wasn't leering at her or offering beads for anything sordid, she was definitely getting an "I'm interested" vibe from him.
"Which house?"
"Omega Chi."
Nancy's heart sank. Well, that was that.
"Seriously, do you need tickets?"
Bess cleared her throat.
Nancy had a feeling Dean Jarvis would get them tickets if needed, but… well. Maybe she wasn't investigating Omega Chi, but she was pretty sure it was next door to one of the fraternity houses she was checking into, and maybe he could give her some gossip on his neighbors—or let her set up an observation post to see if she could catch the thief with an appropriately-sized parcel.
"Tickets would be fantastic," Nancy said, and shot him a brilliant smile. He blinked and returned with a wide, delighted grin.
It wasn't that she ever particularly enjoyed using people. But this… felt a little worse than usual.
"Awesome. I'll have them left at the booth for you. Let me get your name so you can get them at will-call…"
She would likely have to show ID for the tickets, and since he had offered, Nancy knew Bess would likely insist on going, so after only the briefest hesitation she said, "Nancy Drew."
"And your number?" He smiled. "You know, in case… I wanted to give you an update, or there's a problem."
Nancy snickered. With anyone else, she would have been very guarded, but this guy… if he was a dangerous misogynist, he had apparently cloaked it well. She gave him the number of the phone in the dorm where they were staying.
"Oh, Jenkins!"
Nancy's eyebrows rose. "How did you know that?"
"I lived there first semester. All the numbers start like that."
Nancy relaxed fractionally. "Yep. That's where we are."
"Cool," he said, as she pulled to a stop in front of the Omega Chi Epsilon house. "Thanks again. I'll try to find you before the game."
"Are you going to be there too, by chance? Cheering Nickerson on?" Bess's voice wasn't syrup-sweet, but it was close.
The man snickered. "Definitely."
The next day, while Bess agreed to let Nancy do some more sleuthing, she insisted that they go to the game, which would be "absolutely overrun with cute co-eds," and Nancy reluctantly agreed. A few of her suspects were on the team, but the game was also taking place mid-afternoon, and her chances of sneaking into their rooms unobserved was nearly zero.
And that… was when she figured it out.
"Last but certainly not least," the announcer called out, voice booming and hearty over the PA system, "our starting quarterback, Ned Nickerson!"
Their seats gave them an excellent view of the field, and Bess had picked up binoculars for the occasion. "Shit," she breathed.
"Hmm?"
Bess handed them over and gestured wordlessly to the dark-haired guy who had just strode out onto the field, to thunderous applause and overjoyed shouts.
Of course. Of course the guy who had been in the passenger seat of her car the night before, who had casually asked him who she would be cheering on…
…had to be the only guy on the team whose name she had been able to remember.
"They have his jersey in the bookstore," Bess commented, scooping up a handful of popcorn. "You should totally buy it and go wait in his room for him to get back after the game. Wearing that and nothing else."
"Bess!" Nancy stared at her best friend, agape.
Bess just grinned. "It's what I would do," she said, and giggled wickedly.
--
Nancy sighed on waking, sensing the pale blue of dawn even before she opened her eyes. The bed was cold.
And when she finally did open her eyes, the first thing she saw was the discarded tangle of a purple and orange football jersey.
She sighed, wanting to snuggle deeper under the covers, but that wouldn't change anything. Nothing in her power was going to dissolve the pit of anxiety in her stomach.
Ned was in his desk chair, bare chested, elbow propped on the desk and his jaw against the heel of his hand. Stubble shadowed his cheeks, and his eyelids looked heavy. She didn't think he had been sitting there for long, but she didn't know. He had been beside her when last she had stirred, but that had been in deep night.
This was stressful for her, but she couldn't even imagine the pressure he was under.
She sat up, holding the blankets so they stayed draped over her shoulders, covering her up to the collarbone. The room was cold, the way he liked it when he slept, and she shivered as the air touched her newly-bared back.
"Happy anniversary."
Nancy blinked, considering as she puzzled through it, then smiled. "Of our first meeting."
He nodded, his gaze tracing the lines of her face. "The most incredible year of my life."
Her smile didn't falter. No matter what metric he used for that, and she didn't flatter herself by thinking her presence in his life was behind that statement, she fully believed that was true. "The first of many," she said, keeping her tone light.
He didn't answer, and she watched him memorize her, over and over again, and her heart sank. So that was his answer.
Then he sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He pushed his boxers off, and she moved over a few inches to give him space just before he rejoined her in his bed.
"I'm going to decline."
She immediately turned to face him fully, eyebrows high, eyes wide. "What?"
He cupped her cheek and traced her cheekbone with his thumb in a slow, repetitive stroke. "I know what I want to be, and pro is not it."
She was speechless for a minute, searching his dark eyes.
"Does that make you think less of me?"
"No. Not at all. It's just… hard to imagine turning it down."
"You would. Turn it down, I mean."
She smiled. "But I can't say I wouldn't be tempted," she admitted.
"And I am. I could defer until I finish my degree, but I could blow out my knee, get a concussion or two, absolutely ruin my arm. I could give them a year, but all it would take is five seconds of bad luck and my life would be on a very different path."
"That's always true, though," she pointed out. "Every time you get behind the wheel of a car."
"But the odds are significantly higher."
"Yeah." She slid her arm over him, moving a little closer. "I was so sure I was going to lose you," she whispered.
"Even if I had taken the offer, you wouldn't have lost me."
She smiled, lips closed, eyes nearly so. "I," she whispered, but she couldn't find the words.
He moved down, and she felt his lips brush against hers. "You wouldn't have," he said again, and slid his arm over her. "You won't."
Her blue eyes were shining when she opened them again. "I look at you and I think of all the reasons…"
"As though I don't," he said. "You could have chosen anyone."
She laughed. "You could have chosen anyone," she said. "You could choose to be anyone."
"Just as you have." He stroked her cheek.
She shook her head. "I love you," she breathed, and a tear streaked down.
"I love you too."
"I thought I was going to have to let you go."
He grinned. "I've seen my future," he said. "I'm going to earn my degree and settle down in Chicago, coaching basketball, and helping you on the weekends. If that's what sounds good to you."
Nancy searched his dark-eyed gaze. "My dreams are not usually this…"
"Realistic?"
"Wish-fulfillment."
Ned grinned, and she laughed as he rolled her onto her back. "Well then," he murmured, nuzzling against her neck. "Let me work on a few more wishes while I'm at it."