by Linda Kage
Hmm, I’d been wrong. Spoiled brat was actually too mild of a term for this one. I was beginning to think raging bitch might work better. Continuing to smile, I lifted an eyebrow. “And you expect an A for that?”
She flashed me a grin. “Exactly.” Then her gaze went serious as she leaned forward. “Oh, and one more thing. I’m going to need you to stop fucking Noel Gamble while you’re at it.”
I bolted upright in my chair as the blood rushed from my head. “Excuse me?”
With a little sniff, she rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to play stupid with me, honey. I know everything. You see, Noel turned me down the other week.” An aggravated sound gurgled from the back of her throat as she tossed her red locks over her shoulder. “And no one turns me down. I knew something was up then. So...I followed him until I got my proof. And tada!”
She drew up her cell phone, turning it to show me the screen. Noel and I were in my car, cozied up in the passenger seat. We hadn’t reached the part yet where he’d ripped off my bra, thank God, but it was more than obvious what kind of relationship we had.
Wondering how the heck she’d gotten such a good shot, as dark as it had been and as close up as it was, I zipped my gaze up.
Marci smiled and nodded. “It’s time to give me a chance with him now.”
Dear God, she liked him. She liked my man.
Banking on the fact that she didn’t want to hurt him, I said, “If you show that picture to anyone, Noel will get into trouble, too. After the scandal on the volleyball team, his coach told all the football players they’d be kicked off the squad if they were caught in a similar situation. And since he’s here on his athletic scholarship, he’d have to leave Ellamore completely. Do you really want that to happen to him?”
Marci paused. I prayed I had her bluffed out; I even took a relieved breath. But then she came back with, “Then I guess I’ll just have to show them this picture.”
She used her fingers to scroll to a new image, and I almost threw up.
Noel’s face didn’t make this shot. It was all me. My bra was gone, and I’d thrown my head back until my hair was spilling down my back with my bare breasts arched out. The only part of my partner was a strong masculine arm wrapping around my back. I was probably in the middle of my orgasm, and...okay, I had to swallow a little bit of vomit there.
But, oh, my God. This was bad. How many pictures did this bitch have?
“No one can tell who he is here because his face is cropped.” She sent me a little smirk, which I returned with a silent glare. “But you see... right there.” She pointed to his tattoo. “About a dozen other players have that same exact tattoo. So, it’s more than obvious you’re fucking a current player on the football team, but no one has to know exactly which one.”
I kept my expression bland. It was the only thing I could do at a time like this. I mean, sure, I could leap across the table to strangle her to death, and that’s what I wanted to do. But that wouldn’t help Noel, unless I finally did come up with a way to sneak a dead body out of my office.
Damn it.
After clearing my throat discreetly, I asked, “Did you want that to be a low A or a high A?”
***
“The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.” - Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters
***
~NOEL~
I decided to give Aspen some time. I know, that made no sense. Whenever she had time to reason things out, she decided against us. But I was banking on the fact she’d miss me.
Because I sure as hell missed her.
“Come on, man. You’re killing me here.” Ten reached past me where I sat at the table in our dinky kitchen with homework spread across the surface and slammed closed the textbook I was reading. “You’ve been working or doing homework all fucking weekend. It’s driving me batty.”
I sent him a glare and reopened my book, muttering under my breath because the bastard had lost my place. “I told you, I need to catch up with this shit. Back the fuck off.”
Ten slowly tipped the book shut again, lifting his eyebrows in outright challenge. “You’re not doing homework, pussy. You’re pouting because she dumped your ass.”
Clenching my teeth to keep my temper in check, I ground out, “She did not dump me.” She’d specifically said the word break. Break meant we’d get back together...eventually. Break meant there was still a chance.
When I opened the book a third time, my roommate snagged it off the table and out of my reach, holding it above his head like some kind of eleven-year-old bully stealing his little sister’s doll. “You just keep telling yourself that, bud. But we’re still going out tonight.”
I slapped the top of the table. “I don’t want—”
“Well, I’m starving, and there’s no food in the fridge. It was your turn to grocery shop. So you’re taking me out to eat. I’m craving Guido’s.”
I shook my head, startled by how specific he was. He never craved one certain place. Hell, the guy never craved one certain type of food. He was one of those vacuums that ate whatever you put in front of him.
“What is this?” I asked. “You asking me on a date?”
He winked and blew me a kiss. “Buy me enough drinks, and you might even get lucky.”
With a snort, I gave in and let Ten drag me out of my apartment. I wouldn’t admit it to him, but it was nice to get some fresh air. I’d holed myself up in the apartment for too many days, and getting out to breathe for a minute actually helped clear my head.
We found a spot a block down and across the street from Guido’s. Still flipping me hell about mooning after Aspen, my roommate bumped his arm into mine, trying to rile me up. But I ignored him for the most part.
Not until he breathed, “Oh, shit,” did I look up and catch how wide his eyes had gone.
“What?” I began to turn to see what he was staring at, but he caught my arm. “Nothing. I changed my mind. Guido’s sucks. Let’s get some Mexican or something instead.”
I rolled my eyes. How much more obvious could a guy get. I turned again. When he physically tried to bar me from looking, I shoved him back and faced the little Italian joint.
And there she was.
Across the street, in front of a wide, open glass window at a table for two, sat Aspen. In Guido’s. With Dr. Chaplain. On what looked like a fucking date.
“Motherfucker.” When I stepped off the curb to cross to her side, Tenning grabbed my arm.
“Whoa, man. What do you think you’re doing?”
My jaw set. I couldn’t look away from my woman as she took a drink from a wineglass and smiled at something the douche across the table from her had just said. What did she think she was doing? That was the question.
“I’m going over there,” I told Ten. But he jerked me back, pissing me off something major.
“Are you nuts? If you go over there and create a scene like some kind of jealous ex-boyfriend, people are going to realize you’re actually a jealous ex-boyfriend. Do you want to get kicked off the team? Do you want her to lose her job?”
I snapped a hard glare at him. He lifted his brows, and I cursed under my breath. “Damn it.” Digging my phone out of my pocket, I did the next best thing. I called her.
I could tell the moment her end of the line started ringing. She went stiff and her date made a gesture, probably telling her it was okay if she answered. But she shook her head. I ground my teeth. When it went to voice mail, I growled. “I see you. I see who you’re with. And I don’t like it. How is being with an engaged man so much better than dating a student?”
After leaving that message, I instantly dialed her number again. This time, she apologized and leaned down to check the ID. When she saw it was from me, she set her phone back in her purse. I could read her lips as she told him it was no one important.
Acid ate through my stomach. “No one important, huh?” I snorted and had to glance away because it suddenly hurt too much to look at her. “You tol
d him I was no one important? Thanks. Thanks a lot.” I hung up because I knew I would say something really awful next, and I didn’t want to say anything awful to Aspen. I just wanted her to get her head out of her ass and get away from that dick.
But, damn it, I couldn’t hold it in. I lit her phone the fuck up with text after text, damn near harassing her—or maybe it was flat-out harassment. Hell, I didn’t know. I asked if she was going to fuck him, if cheating on his fiancée with him made her feel better about herself than having a faithful, monogamous relationship with me, if she always got over men as easily as she’d gotten over me. I don’t know what all I said, I just couldn’t shut up until I saw her grab her purse and stumble to her feet, probably heading toward the bathroom.
Taking that as my cue to follow, I stepped off the curb again. But Ten, damn him, wasn’t about to let me get near that restaurant.
Growling at him until he gave me some breathing room, I paced the corner of the street, waiting until she made it to the bathroom, or wherever the hell she’d gone, and could reply to me.
But she didn’t reply.
Fed up, I dropped the big bomb. I wasn’t playing around anymore. Fingers shaking so hard I had to delete and retype the message three times before I pushed Send, I wrote, “Don’t do this. I love you, Aspen. Ditch him and come outside to me.”
Anxiety shuddered from my lungs. There. Now she knew. I’d just bared my soul to her and made myself as vulnerable as I’d ever been. Only a cold-hearted person would ignore this, and I knew Aspen. She was the furthest thing from cold-hearted as a person could get. She loved me back. She just had to stop listening to reason and propriety, and she’d realize that.
Another five minutes passed. When she appeared at the table where her date was still waiting, the breath rushed from my lungs. I fully expected her to give him her apologies and come running out to me. But she tucked the back of her skirt up to her legs like a proper lady and seated herself. And their date continued.
I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t blink. Everything inside me shattered. Swiping my hand over my mouth, I turned to my best friend.
His eyes were wide with, what...I didn’t know. Shock, fear, concern, worry. “Gam?”
“Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s get drunk.”
***
“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” - J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
***
~ASPEN~
My head was pounding. As I let myself into my dark house, I kept the lights out and rested my back against the front door to catch my breath.
The night had gone exactly as I’d planned, which I hated. Philip had been eager to take me out when I’d called him. He hadn’t even had a problem with agreeing to meet there.
I’d asked him about his fiancée straight off, and he’d told me they’d split in February. Then he’d bought me some drinks, and we’d talked university politics until the phone calls and texts had started. I knew it was Noel immediately.
When Philip had told me it was okay to answer them, I’d waved him off, trying to appear as if it’d be rude to answer a call on a date. But then it became rude to ignore my phone because it kept going off and interrupting us. I don’t know what I was thinking; my brain obviously wasn’t screwed on right because I should’ve just turned the entire thing off. Except I’d never been able to do that because subconsciously I’d always been waiting for “the call” from my parents.
I’ll never know why I excused myself to go to the bathroom, either. But I did. And I read his texts. All of them.
It killed me to walk back to Philip.
As inconspicuously as possible, I found where Noel was outside, watching us, and thirty seconds after he dragged his friend off, I stood up, cancelling my date with Philip.
Drawing my phone out of my purse, I let the Prada drop to the ground as I opened the last message he’d sent me.
Don’t do this. I love you, Aspen. Ditch him and come outside to me.
Over and over again, I re-read it, and it hurt more each time my gaze flowed over the words. Moaning, I brought my fist to my mouth and bit my knuckles. But that didn’t help. The tears came anyway.
I slid to the floor and buried my face into my knees as pinpoints of agony stabbed me in the gut. I have no idea how long I sat there, trying to console myself and failing, but my joints were stiff and my head was muzzy. It hurt when someone pounded on my door, making the vibration of it rattle through my spine.
I yelped and slapped my hand over my mouth, hoping the caller hadn’t heard me. Breathing hard, I remained perfectly still, hoping he’d leave without trying again. But thirty seconds later, more pounding followed.
“Dr. Kavanagh,” someone shouted. “I know you’re in there. Dammit! Get your ass out here. Now!”
Wait. That wasn’t Noel’s voice. What the hell?
I scrambled to my feet and slid aside the curtain to peer out the window. Oren Tenning glared back, his hands on his hips. Worried something had happened to Noel, I scrambled to unlock the deadbolt and opened the door.
But he didn’t spill any kind of word about his roommate. Fisting his hands and waving them erratically, he screamed, “What the fuck?”
I cleared my throat, licked my dry lips, and straightened my back. “What do you need, Mr. Tenning?”
“I need you to tell me what the hell happened tonight. When you texted me and asked me to make sure Gam was in a certain place at a certain time... Fuck, I thought you were going to try to get back together with him. Not rip his fucking heart from his fucking chest.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks. I was grateful it was dark and he couldn’t see my face, because my plan to appear unaffected was bombing.
“You used me.”
Setting my hand against my diaphragm, I took a deep breath. “I needed him to hate me.”
“Well, congratulations.” He snorted and flung his hands at me. “He does.”
I winced but nodded my head. “Good.”
With a harsh laugh, Ten ran his fingers through his hair and spun around only to come right back to me. “I can’t believe you. He was crazy about you. He...Jesus. Just...don’t ever ask me to help hurt my best friend like that again. Because I refuse.”
“I wasn’t asking you to hurt him. I was asking you to help me protect him.”
“Protect him? Protect him from what?”
I couldn’t answer that one without breaking down. My fingers were already shaking too hard, telling me I was on the verge of a panic attack. With a stiff smile, I met Ten’s gaze. “I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
“Find out?” he echoed, his eyes going wide with alarm. “Find out what? What the fuck is about to happen?”
“Nothing that will affect you. Nothing that will touch Noel. I think.” With a hefty swallow and metaphoric crossing of my fingers, I drew in a deep breath. “I think he’s safe.”
“You think? Jesus Christ. Now I’m freaked out. What’s going on? What did you get him into?”
“Nothing. I’m ninety percent certain this won’t affect him at all.”
“Well, unless you’re a hundred and ten percent certain, then I’m not convinced. What is going on?”
Standing steady, I lifted my chin and got my regal on. “What’s going on is that I refuse to be one of those teachers who gives a student a grade she doesn’t deserve.” If I couldn’t get my happily ever after, then neither would Marci Fucking Bennett. “I won’t bow under pressure, or demands, or blackmail. And that’s all you need to know. I appreciate your concern for your friend, and I’m glad Noel has someone who’s loyal and concerned about him. But you really need to go now.”
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Someone knows, don’t they? Shit. Who is it? It can’t be any of the guys from Forbidden. They’d never do that to Gam. Just tell me who it is. Maybe I can talk to him. Wait, you said she, didn’t you? Who is she?”
“You don’t need to get any more involved than you already are.�
�� I touched his arm. “Just keep Noel...away from it. And...and if he does try to do anything radical, please remind him of his brothers and sister. He can’t get himself kicked out of Ellamore if he wants to help his family. His siblings need him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you.” - Markus Zusak, The Book Thief
~ASPEN~
The longest night of my life passed in seconds. Thirty thousand of them. And I felt every single one. I didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Just sat on my couch, in the dark, wondering if I was doing the right thing. If I told Noel about Marci Bennett’s demands, he’d try to do something sweet and noble, and he’d probably get himself kicked out of Ellamore because of it.
But it had hurt so much to do what I’d done. If he hurt half as much as I did, then this was cruel and unusual punishment. How could I do this to him? How could I make him think I didn’t love him after he told me he loved me first?
Because I did love him, I had to repeat to myself every time I began to melt. I loved him so much I wanted him to reach his goals. I wanted him to graduate from college, get drafted into the NFL, and live out his happily ever after. He was going to accomplish every goal he ever set out to reach. I was going to make sure of it.
But my head throbbed as I drove to work. And it pounded as I started my first class. I was halfway through teaching Introduction to Literature when the door to the lecture hall burst open, slamming against the wall.
A couple girls in the room let out shrieks of terror and I nearly peed my panties as I whirled around to face the threat. I expected to see some terrorist toting a lethal-looking weapon or something equally dramatic. But what stumbled into the room was worse.
So. Much. Worse.
Clothes rumpled as if he’d slept in them, an unshaven Noel Gamble sent me a huge, sloppy grin as he tripped toward an open seat in the front row.
“Sorry I’m late, Professor.” He slurred his words badly, and the scent of a brewery punctuated the air as he passed me to collapse into his chair. “I slept in.” He held up his thumb and forefinger, holding them an inch apart, “jus’ a lil’ bit.”
