Easy

by Jordan S Gray

  “You mean you haven’t had sex because you can’t get any?” His shoulders shook as he continued to mock her, and Shayler had to remind herself that she couldn’t snap his neck without Rebecca getting angry. The thought was still more than tempting. “Want me to ask some of my brothers?”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to formulate a response that didn’t consist of only curse words and hissing. “No thanks. I don’t need your pity dates. Also, my vagina isn’t something you can just auction off at a whim.”

  “Just trying to help,” Derek said.

  “Do you see these?” Shayler unzipped the coat enough to show off her tight tank top and the C-cups that threatened to burst out of it. “I don’t need help.”

  He grinned. “Sure.”

  “I don’t! In fact, I’m going to flirt with a professor in an hour that I’ll be fucking by the end of the week.”

  Derek patted her shoulder. “There are other ways to get good grades, Shayler. You don’t have to do some wrinkled prune. We can help you.”

  Shayler shrieked and grabbed Ansley’s arm, dragging the blonde to the parking lot. She was so done with Derek and almost to the point where she couldn’t understand what her best friend saw in him. Then, she spied his usually tight t-shirt and jeans combo across the parking lot, and her gaze fell to his ass. Okay, she could think of one thing her best friend might like.

  Chapter Nine

  There were three items Shayler wanted to accomplish in her Criminology class today. One, she wanted to collect notes on the past few chapters from someone. Two, she wanted to make direct eye contact with Professor Hale and give him the fuck-me eyes she’d perfected around the same time she’d gotten her first period. And, third, she wanted to toss David’s coat on his desk before he got in the classroom and ignore him the rest of the time.

  She wasn’t usually one for lists—the only thing anal about her was the time Garrett had accidentally slipped—but her brain had been swimming ever since she’d gotten the news about needing to declare a major. At some point, she’d need to organize her priorities, and she figured Rebecca would’ve been proud to know notes were on the top of her list. So she texted that to her best friend, waiting for a reply full of confetti emojis and smiley faces.

  She sat in the same seat as she had on Monday and placed her phone in front of her, waiting for the buzz to let her know that Rebecca had texted back. She was ten minutes early, which was like four hours in Shayler Time—more than enough to find a study buddy and take off a coat. Her phone danced across the table as an incoming text popped up on the screen.

  Becca: This is probably the first list you’ve made since your To-Do list senior year.

  Ooh, Mike M. Wasn’t he #1?

  Becca: No. That was David Hoffner.

  Dnt remember him.

  Ugh. The name was not a welcome reminder of the last few weeks. Thank God she’d never done her top spot then, even if Hoffner had been the only kid at their school with abs, though he’d only had two of them.

  Turning her thoughts back to her priorities, Shayler spun in her seat. Seven minutes until class, which meant most of the Rebeccas were probably seated with stacks of notes in front of them. She just needed to find one nice enough to give her the info without working for it.

  Her gaze flicked over a girl with black rimmed glasses and a beanie and landed on a string-bean redhead. Unlike her actual red hair though, his was a vibrant orange. He gripped a pencil, scribbling something furiously into one of those black and white notebooks teachers always required for no reason other than to exert their authority before the school year started. While he paused to chew his eraser, he slicked his hair back, ignoring the bangs that fell back over his eyes. Oh yeah, this one was perfect.

  She got up and shoved her purse onto her chair. As she was about to shrug out of the jacket to dispose of it, someone tapped on her shoulders. Her hand flew from the zipper as she turned around, hardly surprised to find David standing tall and narrow, staring at her with a small grin.

  “Morning.”

  “You remembered my jacket,” he said, widening his smile.

  Shayler raised a brow. “It was cold outside, so I wore it.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “You can have it back now,” she stated, ready to peel it off her body and shove it in his arms. What if he thought she wore it because she was some creepy stalker chick? Oh God, what if he thought she liked him enough to be a creepy stalker chick?

  “It’s okay. If you need it, you can keep it.”

  She swallowed a growl. “Why are you always so nice?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You are with me.”

  “That’s because we’re friends.”

  Shayler stuck her hip out. “This again?”

  “If you don’t want to be my friend, then I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you about the pop quiz Professor Hale planned for today.”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Shayler bit on her tongue. This was why she picked a study partner the second she started a new class. Flunking out would be way worse than not picking a major.

  “Hey, are you okay?” His voice dropped an octave, and he put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m a little unprepared. Do you have notes or something?” She shook his hand off and pulled a lock of hair out of her messy bun.

  “Uh.” He rocked back on his heels. “I guess you weren’t here the first day.”

  She dragged her gaze away from her desk and back to him. “What?”

  “Professor Hale doesn’t give standard pop quizzes, he gives oral ones. They’re more like discussions.”

  Shayler exhaled roughly. “And I’m usually so good at oral.”

  There was no way she’d be able to memorize enough facts to be able to formulate actual opinions in time for the quiz. She’d bullshit a lot during her school career, but Hale clearly wasn’t the type of professor to be fooled by wordy answers.

  “He doesn’t call on everyone,” David offered, ignoring her spot-on joke.

  “Please.” After the professor’s lingering gaze and their banter in the last class, she knew she’d be called on for the hardest question. There was only one thing left to do. She took off the jacket, pulling her arms out one by one. “If these don’t distract him, I don’t think anything will.”

  David’s gaze fell to her full chest, and he coughed loudly before looking back into her eyes. Shayler beamed. So he wasn’t totally immune to her womanly charms? She made a mental note to start wearing tank tops to class more, even if it was the middle of winter.

  “Here.” She handed him the jacket, slightly sad to part ways with it. It’d been the hottest thing she owned, other than that special warming lube that’d almost sent her to the ER last year.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled. “I have to go get started on editing the first test. Good luck though.”

  “I’m gonna need it,” she said, dropping back into her seat.

  Sadly, the redhead in the back would have to wait. She needed to figure out what she could do about the quiz thing. If she arched her back enough… Shayler flipped her hair, wondering if the position was enough to make the professor’s brain deteriorate for a few minutes while she spoke.

  She tilted her head and noticed David staring at her. If Mr. Friendship could be distracted, she thought, then so could a grumpy teacher. His gaze peeled away from her slowly, and David began alternating between highlighting in his other textbook and marking up a few sheets of paper. Shayler guessed that he could give Rebecca a run for her money if they were in a competition for who was the most studious—and boring.

  Tapping her pen on a notebook she’d found under her bed, Shayler waited for the rest of the class to get their asses in there. An arched back wasn’t exactly an easy position to hold, and she’d need to really sell it if she wanted to melt Hale’s mind enough to avoid being called on.

  The door slammed open and footsteps thundered across the class as Hale entered. The noi
se dispersed amongst the sound of students dumping materials onto their desks. Everything her professor did was like it belonged on a soap opera. She rolled her eyes as he tossed a briefcase beside David, not bothering to make sure he hadn’t smacked his assistant in the face with it.

  “Pop quiz today,” he announced in route to the podium.

  Shayler let out a sarcastic cheer, squeezing the muscles in her arms and chest so that her boobs popped out a tad more. Hale’s gaze went from his stack of papers to her face to her body in a matter of seconds, and she had to stop herself from smirking triumphantly.

  He rubbed his hands together, and she glanced away, staring at David while Hale explained the topic of the day. David’s eyes were squinted in concentration, and his bicep almost strained as his hand wrote at super speed. Shayler tugged on a curl. Everything about him, from the stupid crease in his forehead to the tiny mole below the corner of his lips, was just so damned hot. And that was only what she could see.

  David’s head snapped up, and Shayler prayed she hadn’t blurted her thoughts out this time. Their gazes clashed and her grip on her pen tightened. But she didn’t look away. She held the eye contact, forcing him to be the one to break it. After all, she’d made it clear that she wanted him, had said so at the bar the first time she’d seen him. If he wanted to be serious and friendly, that was on him.

  “Ms. Thompson, would you care to explain your thoughts on the institutions of social control? Specifically, their primary role?”

  Shayler bent deeper into the arch, wiggling her butt to the back of the seat. She grabbed for a curl that skimmed the top of her chest, but Hale’s gaze stayed focused on her face. So much for that.

  “Um.” She cleared her throat. “The institutions of social control are to, uh, control us socially. To seize control of us as social groups. Primary role being able to, um, keep up that … control.”

  David snickered, and Shayler glared at him as she awaited her professor’s rebuttal. She hoped that the girls were enough to save her from certain humiliation.

  “The institutions of social control are how we keep members of society in line. Law, religion, government all fall under this construct, which you would know if you had the courtesy to show up for the first two weeks of class. Let this zero be a lesson to you.”

  Hale moved on swiftly, spitting out another question before pointing to a blonde across from her. Shayler leaned back, shoving the curl she’d been twirling into her mouth. Her stomach threatened to burst out of her throat, and it took all of her energy to stay seated and not run out of the room like someone had lit her pants on fire, which, coincidentally, was exactly how she’d felt after using that lube.

  The quiz continued. Students answered questions, some wrong, some right. But none of them were reprimanded like small children. Shayler tuned out. She didn’t care about some lame-ass discussion, didn’t give a fuck that she had a big fat zero next to her name. Letting out a ragged breath, Shayler stabbed her pen on her notebook in tune with her pulse.

  This wasn’t the first thing she’d ever failed. Hell, she’d actually flunked the nap portion of kindergarten, and the only reason she’d been able to move on to first grade was thanks to her teacher’s fear of having her in class again. But she doubted she could intimidate or scare Hale into giving her a free pass.

  Shayler checked her phone, scrolling through the notifications and party invites without really seeing them. There was no way she’d give her dick professor the satisfaction of knowing he’d embarrassed her. She set the phone back on the table and picked at her fingers, yawning and lowering her eyelids every few minutes. Thirty minutes ticked by slower than the time she’d had sex with a yoga hippie who’d sworn he’d kiss every inch of her body—including places like her armpits and belly button. This was almost as torturous too.

  When Hale exclaimed class was over, Shayler was eager to stand. She dumped her notebook into her bag, antsy to launch out of the aisle and toward the door, but that’d be obvious. Slowly packing away her things and texting her roommates about dinner was a better plan. She was watching David leave when a gruff voice commanded that she stay.

  Shayler spun on her heels, mouth parted in surprise. She shook the reaction off. If Hale wanted to keep her after class, she’d use the opportunity in her favor. For now, she’d let the quiz go, in favor of her lonely lady bits.

  Chapter Ten

  “I’m sorry if I was a little harsh on you.”

  Shayler raised her brows. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from her professor, but it certainly wasn’t an apology. Standing by his desk, she planted her hands on her waist.

  “A little? It was borderline harassment.”

  His brown eyes lit up as he crossed his arms. Shayler ran her gaze down the length of his body. He was in good shape for his age, and the charcoal-colored hair that covered his head and arms wasn’t exactly a turn off.

  “Harassment?”

  She stood toe to toe with him. If he thought she’d cower under his scrutinizing gaze, he had another coming—hopefully literally.

  “Most professors don’t speak to their students that way,” she stated.

  “I’m not like most professors,” he retorted, his glare landing on her chest.

  The cheesy line washed over her like ice-cold water, putting out any heat that had appeared in between her thighs. “What did you need?”

  “I wanted to discuss the pop quiz.” Hale cracked his knuckles before striding to his desk and taking a seat in David’s chair. It was weird seeing him there, and he didn’t fill the chair out quite as nicely as David had.

  “Sorry about that. Forgot to study.”

  Hale shook his head. “Unacceptable. I’ve given you the information you need to know, and you have the textbook. You need to get your participation up and pay attention.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “If Criminology isn’t for you, there are a few days left to opt out without leaving a bad mark on your transcript.”

  “I can handle Intro to Crim.” Shayler scoffed. Did he think she was just some dumb bimbo? She gulped. Was that how she’d been acting?

  “The discussion today did a good job disproving that.”

  Shayler narrowed her eyes and used her arms to shield her boobs from his view. He didn’t deserve to see them. “Today was a mistake. I’ve been … in a bad mood lately.”

  “A bad mood does not equate bad grades. Some people aren’t cut out for this line of work, bu—”

  She interrupted him with a cackle. “I can pass this class with my eyes closed and my hands tied behind my back. Are you done now?”

  “Ms. Thompson.”

  “Look, I was absent. I wasn’t setting classrooms on fire. You need to chill.”

  “I don’t appreciate being told to chill,” he said, the word falling from his lips like a curse. “If you think you can skate by on looks alone, you’re in for a rude awakening. I don’t put up with that sort of bullshit.”

  Shayler gasped. Was he calling her a ditz? Hadn’t he just been hitting on her? She took a step back and tugged her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you Friday, Professor.”

  “Ms. Thompson,” he said, sounding like an iPod stuck on repeat.

  She ignored him and marched to the door, pushing it open with a grunt. Satisfaction washed over her as it slammed shut. Screw that guy. He thought she couldn’t handle an intro class? That she was just a pair of hot boobs to criticize?

  She caught movement out of her peripheral vision and turned her head to see David behind her, resting against the wall. Of course he’d be there, probably wanting to talk or something stupid. What she really felt like doing was punching someone or smashing a load of dinner plates on Hale’s head. But that wasn’t going to happen, so she settled for David coming to a stop beside her and bumping into her shoulder.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “Why do you always ask that?” she snapped. “I’m. Fine.”

  “Whoa. It just seemed like a rou
gh class for you.”

  “I’m just frustrated.”

  He inched forward and switched his pile of books to under his left arm. “What’s wrong?”

  She stared at his face and unclenched her jaw. The only people she should’ve been talking to were Rebecca or Ansley or a roommate if those two were unavailable. But everything about David was so concerned and sweet and reminded her of her dad. Not in a weird way, but in a way that made her think of when she’d fallen off her bike and her dad had rushed to clean the cuts, bandage them, and buy her a new tub of Cookies ‘n’ Cream ice cream. Like being around him was comfortable and safe.

  “I sucked in class today. And, okay, that’s not surprising because what the fuck do I know about Criminology? But Hale was all smoldering and then mean, and hot and cold doesn’t work in real life, it only works for faucets or pornos.” She grabbed her hair and pulled. “I feel … I feel like I’m suffocating.”

  “You can’t be that stressed from one class.”

  “That’s it? That’s what you wanna say? You’re not gonna tell me everything’s okay or give me a hug?”

  David laughed. “I just think there’s gotta be something else making you feel like this.”

  “I had a meeting with my advisor last week.”

  “Why?”

  “Oh, you know, she told me I was so amazing that they’re going to dedicate a statue to me in front of the student gardens.”

  He raised a brow and shoved a hand in his pocket.

  “She told me that if I don’t pick a major, I’m going to run out of money before I can get a degree.”

  “You haven’t picked a major?”

  She threw her arms in the air. “Sorry that most of us don’t know what we want to do with our lives!”

  “Picking a major isn’t set in stone, it’s more like making an educated guess. You can always change it.”

  “Is that how you picked yours, you just guessed?”

  “I majored in Crim because I figured I wanted to do something related to helping people.”