Keeping Casey (Keeping Him #1) - Amy Aislin Page 0,84

love the opportunity to get some hands-on field experience. Especially since I’m looking ahead to grad school in . . .” He trailed off. There was a fine line between a poker face and a bored face.

The panel was bored.

That wouldn’t do.

His leg bounced again and his armpits started to sweat. He’d been doing so well so far. How did he redirect things to recapture their attention?

His hand went to the coin around his neck. To the real reason he had an interest in archeology in the first place. “Actually, the real reason I’d love to participate is because of my dad.”

A couple of heads popped up from where they’d been gazing at the papers in front of them—more copies of Casey’s applications. Professor Wainwright nodded at him to continue.

“He’s the one who got me interested in archeology. He studied it in college too, but only for about a year and a half. His own dad had died and he had to drop out of college to get a job and help support the family. But he never lost interest in it, and he instilled that interest in me.” His thumb grazed the front of the coin, memories battling for dominance—garage sale hopping on sunny Saturday mornings, browsing antique shops, theorizing on the people depicted in vintage photographs. “He died five years ago, and while everything I said about having wanted to study archeology for a long time and grad school is completely true, I guess . . .” He gazed off to the side and released a steady breath. “I feel closer to him when I’m around artifacts. And while I’m majoring in archeology because of my own interests, it’s also to honor his memory. To make him proud.” He turned back to the interviewers.

They were all staring at him.

“Uh, sorry,” he said with a small laugh. “That was probably more than you wanted to know. I’m not even sure I answered your question.”

What had it been again?

“You did,” Professor Wainwright assured with a smile.

The department chair stood and offered her hand. “Thank you, Casey. We’ll let you know by mid-February if you’ve been accepted. There’s only one spot for a freshman student and we had over thirty applications. It’ll be a tough decision for us, I expect.”

Thirty applications? Those were not good odds.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Nodding at each of the panel members, Casey grabbed his coat from the back of his chair and headed out.

Blowing out a breath, he rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension. Thank god that was over. Now all he had to do was sit and wait. He’d done the best he could in there and if he didn’t get the spot . . .

Then he didn’t get the spot.

The thought didn’t make him as anxious as it once would have. If he wasn’t accepted, that was okay. He could still join Ethan in Burlington where he’d officially signed on to coach hockey camps next summer. Get a job at a local café or . . . Were there antique shops in Burlington? He made a mental note to google that later.

Outside, the day was gray, but it had stopped snowing sometime while he’d been inside. Fresh snow made the campus quad all shiny and pretty, topping the grass and weighing down tree branches.

Speaking of tree branches, Ethan stood under a tree ahead, bundled in winter gear. He’d replaced his socks with sandals as soon as the cold weather hit, thank god for small favors, and he wore a black winter coat with a plaid gray-and-blue scarf and a dark knit hat.

Casey waited at the top of the stairs for Ethan to finish his conversation with Coach Abshire. Ethan looked . . . kind of sheepish? It was a good look on him. Made Casey’s belly swoop and dive. Made him want to hug Ethan close and never let him go.

He leaned against the iron railing bookending the stairs that led down to the quad, his toes going cold in his dress shoes. From here, he watched the way Ethan’s cheeks creased when he smiled, the way he dug the toe of his boot into the ground in embarrassment, the way he shrugged those wide shoulders, dismissing whatever his coach had said.

Wanting to be surrounded by those shoulders, Casey barely waited until Coach Abshire had departed before bounding the stairs.

Toward the man who made his world brighter just by being in it.

Campus was eerily quiet as Ethan waited in the quad near Glen Hill