Here With Me

by Alla Kar

God, I could strangle her. Giving her my best dirty look, I slowly move toward Aiden’s desk. It’s messy with papers everywhere and some drinks. Aiden moans, sending me into statue mode. I freeze, hand outstretched. Please, do not wake up. My fears slip away when I hear the faint sound of his snores.

  Heather’s breath on the back of my neck is making me squeamish. A pair of scissors are sticking out of a pen holder. Grabbing them, I turn around to face her. She is red in the face and holding back her laugh. “We haven’t even done it yet,” I hiss at her. “Can you please be quiet?”

  She straightens her shoulders and nods.

  Standing over Aiden with a pair of scissors in my hands isn’t anything I had ever imagined myself doing. Shit, I don’t even like to be in his room. Now, I’m sneaking into it? This deal is turning me loopy. My heart hammers against my chest, as I near his bed. He is still lying on his stomach, snores rising from his lips.

  “Okay,” I whisper to Heather. I reach down and carefully pull a chunk of his hair from the back of his head. Holding my laughter back, I snip until all I can see is a small bald spot on the back of his head. Success!

  Heather is high-fiving me when I hear the doorknob start to rattle. Why is Jacks making so much noise? Then the door opens just a smidge to show the top of some guy’s head, as he reads a text on his phone.

  Dread. That’s the word. It was consuming me. Aiden said his roommate was never here. Heather is wide-eyed, staring straight ahead. Shit. Grabbing Heather’s hand, I pull her down to the floor with me. With speed I didn’t know my un-athletic ass possessed, we slid under Aiden’s bed.

  The door squeaks all the way open. “Aiden, you asleep, bro?”

  Aiden jerks around, and I assume sits up because the bed squeaks under his weight. “What the—come on, man, it’s fucking one o clock in the morning.”

  His roommate scoffs and I see his jeans drop to the floor. Heather pokes me and wiggles her eyebrows. I jab my elbow into her side. “Shhh,” I mumble as low as I can.

  This is some fucked-up shit. So far this week I’ve gotten stuck in a bathroom window, trapped by my ex-boyfriend in two different bathrooms, and now I’m stuck under my pretend boyfriend’s bed. Someone is definitely out to get me.

  “Since when does Aiden—God’s gift to women—care about staying up late? You’re always dragging some innocent girl in here to bang.”

  Aiden growls. “Well, it’s fucking different now. Back off, man.”

  His roommate is quiet for a minute. I almost think he may be going to sleep. “What do you mean different? Are you saying that you’ve found someone special? Alert the media!”

  Aiden sighs. “It’s—I like her. Her—not her body, which is pretty smoking, too. But, she is…a handful. Dances with other guys, doesn’t take me seriously at all. I love it. God, I sound like a pussy-whipped boyfriend.”

  His roommate dives onto his bed, which protests with a loud screech. “No, you’re just finally starting to open up. I know that girl in high school messed you up, but it’s about time you let yourself love again. Let yourself have feelings.”

  Goddamn it. If I wasn’t feeling bad before the club situation, I sure felt like shit now. Someone had already broken his heart? He just needed someone to push his limits, make him care. An ache tears through my stomach. I squeeze my hand tighter around the hair clutched in my hand. I’m a terrible person.

  Aiden coughs and changes positions. “Thanks, man. It was nice to have you here.”

  His roommate mumbles something under his breath and then there is silence.

  Heather and I are holding our breaths, until we start to hear their snores in the silence of the dorm room. Heather taps my shoulder and points toward the door.

  I nod, slowly, crawling out from underneath his bed. Heather follows behind me, closing the door behind her. Jacks looks like he just saw a horde of zombies walking through the hallway. “What the—oh, my God, I thought you two were dead meat. Shit, I didn’t want to call you, it would have woken Aiden up.”

  “I know, I think I almost shit in my pants,” Heather says, wiping her brow. “But,” she grabs my wrist and holds up the hand with the hair, “we got it.”

  Jacks rolls his eyes. “You two are terrible people. Make sure I never piss you two off. Can we go home now?”

  I nod. “What did you say to the roommate? He wasn’t curious that you were standing outside his dorm room?”

  Jacks smiles. “I just pretended to be at the wrong door. Then I started acting drunk, because I figure that always works. It did.”

  “Of course.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lachlan

  “My weakness is that I care too much” — Papa Roach

  “I won.”

  The blue ribbon in my hands stares back up at me. I clutch it tighter, glaring down at the words 1st Place. “I bloody won,” I mumble under my breath. The crowd is still cheering, patting me on the back, flashing me big grins. “I bloody did it.” It’s not that I thought I couldn’t win, but my opponent was good. She had been cooking her entire life. So had I, but she had at least twenty years on me.

  I turn and shake her hand. “Your cake was delicious, luv. You’re a fantastic cook.”

  She smiles, then pats me on the back. “Not as good as yours. Congratulations, hon. You have a wonderful life ahead of you.”

  Smiling, I kiss her cheek before she starts packing her things. Dr. Phillips, who had handed me my ribbon, was now looming over me. It kind of flipped me the bloody hell out. “Lachlan,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “We have tons to talk about. I’m going to be pretty busy with tests the next few days. Is there any way you could meet me at the college? I have a writing class around eleven on Monday. We can go over all the details of your job. Set up a time to go check out the restaurant. It will be open in a couple of weeks.”

  A couple of weeks? I don’t even know if I want to live here. I never really thought I was going to win. I had no idea what to expect. All my things are in Australia; I’d have to make a trip back to get them. Get an apartment? Get my vehicle over here. I run my fingers through my hair. “Sure—I can meet you there. Where is your classroom?”

  Dr. Phillips pulls out a notecard and jots down the directions. My eyes wander over the crowd. I know who I’m looking for, and I watched her while I cooked. She wasn’t sitting by her boyfriend, but by her friend. Her arms had been crossed, eyes uneasy. Something was wrong. But, I couldn’t blame her for not wanting to be near her arsehole of a boyfriend. Not to mention, he had a huge chunk out of the back of his hair.

  I had nearly dropped my cake when he turned around, pulled off his cap, and showed some guy talking to him. He was pissed. It made me fucking smile.

  She isn’t standing where she had been, but her blond hair caught my attention by the door. Her jeans—the ones I wish she would stop wearing—were snug against her ass. She laughs at something that guy says and then, as if she knows I’m staring at her, she glances back over her shoulder. I know the look. She wants to come over to me, I can feel it, but doesn’t. She smiles, nods her head, and gives me a thumbs up. It’s the first nice reaction, besides kissing me back, that she has given me.

  I smile and give her a small wink. She takes a sharp breath in and turns to disappear through the double doors.

  “Lachlan,” Dr. Phillips says, drawing my attention back to him. His eyebrow is raised above his Coke-bottle glasses. “Do you know Ms. Scott from somewhere?”

  “Yeah, I know her.”

  ***

  The music is way too loud in this damned place. It’s not like the casual clubs I’m used to going to back home. They don’t try to bust your bloody eardrums. Lucas insisted we go out to celebrate, since Savannah was out doing some last minute bridesmaid shopping with Jamie. I was thrilled to get out of the apartment without Jamie. She was starting to come over more, hanging around when I leave and pretending like we’re dating. We most certainly are not.

  Lucas slaps his hand against the booth
table, causing me to break my daze. “You’re a fucking winner, haven’t I always told you that?”

  He’s wasted. “No, you’ve never said that, mate. But, nice try.”

  Lucas chugs some of his drink, and flags the waitress down for another one. “Keep ’em coming,” he yells.

  “Are we trying to drink our life away tonight? I thought we were celebrating, not getting too wasted to get home.”

  “Oh, come on, you old man. We’re having a good time. You’ve got a job…here. Which reminds me, what in the fuck are you going to do? You going to move back here? Don’t get me wrong, I would love that, but I just didn’t think you ever wanted to come back. Not after—”

  I cut him off with a sharp stare. “I didn’t want to—but now, I have a reason.”

  “Two,” Lucas mumbles under his breath.

  I glare at him over my beer. “She is fucked up, Lucas. Her heart…it seems like it’s been scattered into ten million pieces. I’m going to put her back together. You’re right. I do have two reasons to be here. I’ve won one, now I’m going to win the other back.”

  “That’s the spirit, you ole’ chap,” Lucas says. “Because here is your chance. She is standing over there by the bar.”

  What? I snap my head around, my eyes meeting her dark green ones. She is pressed against the counter, sitting on a stool and looking out across the dance floor. She sips her drink, her eyes fluttering up to meet mine. She doesn’t move, it doesn’t even look like she is breathing.

  I stand up.

  “Wait, where are you going?” Lucas asks.

  I glance over my shoulder. “To dance with my girl.”

  Lucas gives me a small smile and with his best Australian accent says, “Go get her, mate.”

  She sees me walking toward her. Her fingers tighten around her drink, and her legs twitch against the stool. Her roommate is standing beside her, yapping with some guy. She hasn’t even noticed.

  When I get to her, my heart is pounding in my throat. I’m such a pussy. Staring down at her, I offer her my hand. “Want to dance, luv?”

  She purses her lips, then bites down slowly. Goddamn, I want to do that for her. She takes a slow breath, and just when I know she’s going to tell me to get lost, she places her hand in mine.

  I grin, like a damned fifteen-year-old boy. Guiding her behind me, I stop between a few other couples dancing in the middle of the floor. The song is a rap song, fast and up-beat. Laney’s hand is trembling in mine, I hate that she is afraid to know me again. I turn her ass toward me and wrap my hands around her waist. She takes a small breath in and tenses at my touch. It’s been so long…I screw my eyes together and push her toward me again.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I lean down and whisper in her ear. She smells flowery. My dick reminds me how she affects me. Everywhere. “I won’t hurt you again, luv.”

  She sways to the music, the tension in her shoulders draining away as she finally begins to dance. She grinds her ass against me, and I pray she can’t feel my erection against her, but if I had to guess she knows it’s there. Her hands go to the air, and she starts to sing along with the song.

  Laughing, she begins to sway her hips faster, throwing her hair around. She is finally having a good time. We’re both laughing, and dancing, when she reaches down and grabs my thigh, squeezing hard. The close contact sends my hormones on a rampage. Unable to help myself, I pull her hair to the side, placing a soft kiss against the skin below her ear.

  She moans. Holy Fucking Shit. She reaches behind her, grabbing my hair and holding my face at her neck. Her fingers grip harder, so I lean down and touch my lips to her again. “More,” she says over the music.

  I’m a man of my word. I open my mouth and suck her sweet skin into my mouth. She arches her back, making her ass hit me harder. I suck harder, not wanting to let go. Biting down slightly, she growls, turning to face me. Her green eyes are wide—innocent almost—and beautiful. Her eyes undress me as they lower over my body. “More,” she whispers again.

  Christ. I grip the base of her neck, forcing her chin up. She couldn’t get away if she wanted to. I hover my mouth over hers, smelling the alcohol and mint, just a hairbreadth away from her waiting lips.

  “More?” I ask.

  She nods, her eyes wide—waiting—and her pupils growing. “Yes.”

  Bringing my other hand up, I trace my finger over the outline of her bottom lips. She has the prettiest lips I’ve ever laid eyes on. Thick, pink, and soft. They would make a priest swear. Slowly, I close the gap between our mouths, not able to keep myself from it any longer.

  Gentle at first, a soft, barely there kiss, then I quicken the pace. She opens her mouth for me, inviting me in. She doesn’t know but I never want her to let me go. This is the kiss I want forever. Tangling my hands in her soft blond hair, I tug until we’re touching everywhere.

  Her body is shivering against mine. Her softness fits perfectly against my hardness. A soft groan comes from her throat as I trace her lips with my tongue. I’m not sure how much she’s been drinking, but I know it’s not enough to cloud her judgment. She wants this. Just like I want it—need it.

  Breaking free, I trail down her neck to the top of her low-cut shirt. She is breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in quick jerks. The tips of her fingers press harder into my scalp as I make my way to the edge of her bra.

  I’m lost in her delicious skin when I feel someone push me forward. I fall into Laney, grabbing her hip to keep her from falling.

  Her eyes are wide, staring behind me. I know it’s him. “Go sit down, Laney. I’ll take care of this fucking twit.”

  I don’t give her time to answer. I push her forward and sling around. I come face-to-face with Aiden. He is staring at me, a serious rage building in his eyes.

  “Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend.”

  “I’m not your girlfriend,” Laney spits out.

  “Go sit down!” I yell back at her.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and doesn’t budge. God—hard-headed woman. I grit my teeth and turn back to Aiden.

  “You’re hurting, Laney. I said I was sorry. Please forgive me,” he says, taking a step toward Laney. I step to my left and block his path. “Move out of the way, before I beat your ass right now, Aussie.”

  Closing my eyes, I try to calm myself. “You have no idea how badly I want to press your head into the floor, twit. Now, get the fuck away from her. She isn’t your girlfriend. She just said it.”

  Aiden frowns and tries to move around me, but I push his shoulder, making him stagger into a few dancing couples.

  “No,” Laney says, running in front of me. She has one hand on my chest and the other out in front of her. “Aiden, stay back. You’ve both been drinking and will probably regret this tomorrow. Just go home.”

  Is the bloody twit crying? He is clenching his fists and staring at Laney. “I’m fucking sorry. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

  Do what again? I’m going to knock the last living breath out of him. She is quiet for a moment, then she drops her arms. “Aiden…we can talk tomorrow. Go home, now, or I’m not going to talk to you at all.”

  Aiden screws his eyes shut, turns, and pushes his way out of the crowd. Laney turns around, her dark green eyes wide. A tremble forms on her bottom lip, but she bites it.

  “Laney, does he hurt you?”

  She closes her eyes, a tear falling from the corner. I want to wipe it away but she doesn’t look like she wants to be touched. “No, I hurt him.”

  What? “You—you hit him? What do you mean?”

  She shakes her head, wipes her face, and takes a deep breath. “Don’t worry about me, Lachlan.”

  No, she is withdrawing. She is going to hide. She is shutting her doors. “Laney, no, don’t go.”

  “Lachlan, please, it’s too much right now. I feel like I’m suffocating. I see you and it hurts. It burns. Just please…”

  She is crying, hysterically. Tears stream down her flushed ch
eeks. Fucking shit. I want to hold her. Tell her it’s going to be okay. Tell her I love her, and that I never stopped loving her, but she is gone. She pushes a path through the crowd and out the door.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Laney

  “Life goes on, it gets so heavy

  The wheels break the butterfly

  Every tear—a waterfall” — Coldplay

  At least my coffee is warm today.

  Snapping the top onto my coffee container, I sling my backpack over my shoulder. My head is pounding and the Advil I took when I woke up isn’t helping. I hold the bridge of my nose with two fingers.

  “You know you can miss a class, Laney. It won’t kill you,” I hear Heather from under her covers, sleeping comfortably like I wish I were.

  Pushing my glasses up my nose, I narrow my eyes at her. “No, because I can’t miss Dr. Phillips’ class anymore. Since he tortured us with the Cook Off, I’m not risking it again. And we have an assignment due today.” A poem that I wrote while I was crying which is never a good thing to do. Not only are there corners smudged with mascara from me drying my tears and trying to write, but it’s about Lachlan.

  Heather mumbles incoherently through her covers, and then flips onto her side.

  Jacks is leaving his dorm room when I open my door. “Wow, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

  “Thanks.” I roll my eyes.

  Jacks pats my shoulder. “Really, what’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

  All weekend. All freaking weekend. I don’t think my eyes can produce any more tears. They burn when I blink. My entire world feels like it is slipping from me. He had held me so close to him, his hard muscles clenching around me. So perfect. So raw and real. I never wanted to let myself go with him as much as I did last night.

  “I’ve just had a terrible weekend. Can we talk about anything else?”

  “Okay, how are you and Aiden doing?”

  “Okay, anything other than my terrible weekend and Aiden.”