“That’s not quite—”
“That’s exactly what this is,” Max said. “You have this idea in your head that everything is going to work out perfect. Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to get a couple of semesters in and realize this isn’t what you want. You’re just following some fantasy taken too far. You’re going to drop out and all of this money will be for nothing.”
I could feel my blood boiling, my hands clenching into fists. Every muscle in my body seemed to scream punch him! Claw his eyes out! I felt dizzy with adrenaline. And yet I prevailed. If I attacked Max, I got expelled. And frankly, my education was worth more than Max. That’s it exactly. My education was worth more than everything—Max, Shep, money, you name it.
“No, you know what, Max?” I hissed. I felt alive, renewed with fresh vigor. Max’s reign of terror had gone on long enough. “Let me tell you something –”
“Is there a problem here?”
Oh, shit. I knew that voice. I’d heard that voice a million different ways over the last few days, echoing through my mind, remembering the way it had growled my name.
“Not a good time, Yea, Shep.” Of course it was Shep who stood there. I was surprised I hadn’t figured out he’d been there sooner, as his shadow was long enough to eclipse me totally. His eyes were narrowed. “This the guy you were on the phone with the other night?”
“Who the hell are you?” Max barked.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Shep said. “But let me take a guess. You’re the douchebag Anna’s been trying to deal with for the last couple of weeks.”
“Shep!” I said. “Shep, back off. I can handle it.”
“What I do with my wife is none of your business, jackass,” Max said, stepping forward toward Shep.
“I’m not your wife, Max,” I hissed.
“She ain’t your wife, douchebag,” Shep echoed. The two men were standing face-to-face now.
“Shep, would you shut up? I said I could handle it!”
“Listen to Anna,” Max said. “How about you shut up?”
“How about you go find a hole and crawl in it?” Shep retorted.
I tried to get between the two men, slapping at their chests, but they were practically unmovable. Their eyes were locked in unblinking stares.
“How about you get out of my face?” Max said, shoving Shep.
It was the gesture Shep had been waiting for. With his left hand, Shep grabbed Max by his tie and pulled him forward. His right hand curled into a meaty fist and hooked Max in the face, directly in the nose. Having landed the blow, Shep let Max’s tie go, allowing him to go tumbling to the ground.
“Shep!” I screamed.
“Ow!” Max cried, clutching his face and speaking with a kind of nasal tone. “You broke my fucking nose!”
“No kidding? I was aiming for your jaw. How about another go?”
“Hey!” An unfamiliar voice behind us. “Hey, you two! Knock it off!”
I spun around. It was one of the kids working security. They weren’t cops—they didn’t have guns or badges; they were mostly intended to keep their peers from riding bikes too fast through crowds—but they had phones. And phones lead to cops.
“I’m sorry,” I said, putting up my hands. “Please, we’ll go.”
“Yeah!” The kid said. He looked to be reaching for his phone. “Take it off campus before I call the police on you!”
“No!” I cried. “No—please don’t call the police.” I spun around to Shep. “Look, let’s go.” I glared down at Max. “Max, buzz off. You’re going to keep paying my tuition whether you like it or not.”
“I’m going to sue your little boyfriend,” Max grumbled, his voice even more nasally now as he lifted himself to his feet.
“Try it,” Shep said. “I’ll countersue your ass for harassment. How’s that sound, douchebag?”
“That’s it, I’m calling the police,” the student said behind us.
“No!” I said. “See? We’re going. We’re leaving now. Okay? See?” I took Shep by the arm. He let me drag him away. I kept an eye on Max, but luckily he’d smartened up and seemed to be heading in the opposite direction. The kid was on the phone.
“Great,” I said. “God, Shep, why are you such an asshole? You’re going to get yourself expelled!”
“That’s fine,” he said gruffly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not sitting by and letting some prick push you around like that,” he said.
“I told you I could handle it!” I said a little louder than I’d meant. “I was fine. I need to do this on my own.”
“Doing it on your own?” Shep asked. There was a challenging edge to his voice. “Is that how you ended up with that guy in the first place?”
“Shep, don’t do this—”
Without warning, Shep grabbed me by the waist and spun me so I was facing him. I cried out in surprise. He capitalized by swooping in and pressing his lips to mine, and for a brief, fleeting second, we were back in his bedroom, bodies rocking together, me feeling more fulfilled than I ever had before. I practically melted in his arms, my limbs turning to jelly, and with my eyes closed, I could see stars.
Then I got a grip and pushed him away. “Shep, no.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’? What, you’re okay with having sex, but you’re not okay with kissing?”
“I wasn’t okay with having sex!” I said. “I mean… obviously, I was. But we can’t do it again! I’ve told you that. Shep, you and I are at different places in our lives. You’re young; you still have your whole life ahead of you. I’m—”
Shep shook his head. “For the love of God, don’t say it, Anna. Every time I see you, you have to tell me you’re old. Here’s a reality check, Anna. You’re not old!”
“I just mean—”
“No,” Shep interjected. “You had your turn. Now it’s my turn. You keep telling me—and yourself—how old you are. You’re not. You just spend so much time worrying about your age that you waste the time you have.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“Age is up here.” He tapped a finger his temple, then shocked me by reaching out and cupping my breast, just a quick squeeze. “You keep telling me you’re so old, but guess what? Your parts seem to be working just fine, all of them except your attitude.”
“Shep!” I jerked away, and he let me, smiling meanly down into my face.
“Fine,” Shep said, stepping away from me. “If you think age is so important, here’s what I think. I might be younger, but you’re the immature one, Anna. I thought we had something good going, but I guess not.” Before I could respond, he spun on his heel. “Let me know when you want to stop acting like a teenager.”
With that, Shep strolled to his truck. I watched him for a time, rubbed my forehead, and then started for my car.
Shep and I had officially broken up.
10
One Week Later
“See?” I said. “I told you. What ended up being the problem?”
Lisa sighed. “He left my house and had a flat tire. He would have told me, but because he spent the night, he couldn’t charge his phone…”
“…so his battery was dead,” I finished for her.
“Right. He called me that night and apologized. I feel like such an idiot.”
“Well, it’s okay,” I said quickly. Big-Sis-Anna was kicking in again. It was my job to steer her on the right path, right? “It’s good that you’re holding yourself to such a high standard. You’re better than one-night-stands.”
“I know, I just feel like a jerk for overreacting that morning,” Lisa said. “I’m just glad I didn’t send him any angry texts or anything like that. I just assumed…”
“And you know what they say about assuming.” I grinned.
“I guess you’re right,” Lisa said. “Anyway, we’re going out again tonight. Which reminds me, what are you doing?”
“Tonight?” Now there was a can of worms. The last thing I wanted to
do was tell Lisa the truth and completely undermine everything I’d just told her. Lisa was supposed to see me as the relationship guru, not some hot mess who could barely hold onto a guy for a week. “I’m just going out for dinner.”
“With who?”
“A friend from class,” I lied. “Her name is…Kendra. We hit it off earlier this week.”
“Cool,” Lisa said. “A couple of hot girls hitting the clubs. Who knows, maybe you’ll find someone special?”
I cringed. Yeah, maybe. Whether or not he’ll want to see me is another story. I laughed. “Well, we’re probably not going to be doing Tequila shots and dancing on tables, so let me nip that in the bud right now,” I said.
“Awwww, come on!” Lisa said. “Live a little.”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to do,” I said. “I just feel like I’ve been acting like kind of an old woman lately. I want to get out, get socializing. I might be in my thirties, but I can still rock a miniskirt if I want.”
“That’s the spirit!” Lisa said. “Listen, I have to get ready for Paul. He’s picking me up in an hour. Talk to you next week?”
“Next week,” I parroted. “Have fun on your date.”
“You too.” Lisa hung up.
I’d lied a little, for a good reason. Was I going to a bar by myself? Yeah, indulging my inner loser, maybe. But Shep had been right. How much time had I spent focusing on my age? How many times had I told myself that my best years had been lost on Max and that I was past my prime?
No, if anything, I was just getting started. I was going back to school and looking forward to a bright new future. Despite what had happened a few days earlier, Max had been silent, and the tuition payment had been made. And if he’d followed through on his promise to sue Shep—which I doubted, since Max had always been an all-bark-and-no-bite kind of guy—I hadn’t heard anything about it.
I got ready, rocking a pair of fuck-me red pumps and a nice pair of blue jeans, and took off. I knew where I was going. Frank’s, where Shep and I had gone on our first date. And yeah, that’s what it had been. It wasn’t a ‘meeting’; it wasn’t a ‘get-together,' it wasn’t ‘just two people doing a school project.' No, it had been a date, no matter which way you looked at it.
My heart skipped a beat as I pulled into the restaurant parking lot and saw the unmistakable hulking dark blue silhouette of Shep’s truck. He was here. Was this place his go-to on Saturday nights? Was he here alone, or with someone?
I trotted inside and asked for a table. As I followed the waitress—a redhead named Jean this time, it looked like Amanda had the night off—I scanned the restaurant. My stomach rolled when I caught a glimpse of Shep sitting in a corner booth.
…with another girl. Try as I might to not care, there was still a little twist of jealousy that formed in my stomach. She was a cute girl – one of the girls from our Business class named Lily or Lila or something – with long brown hair and a skirt that could have doubled as a belt. She sat behind Shep in class. I’d never seen him even look her way, but apparently, he had. He didn’t seem to notice me, but the table Jean set me at gave me a straight view of hi. He had a Budweiser in front of him, as did Lily-Lila, and it looked like she was enthusiastic about the drink.
“Can I bring you a beverage while you look over the menu?” Jean asked.
“Yeah,” I said, looking at the menu without looking up. “How about a Strawberry Lemonade Vodka? And a side of mozzarella sticks, if you don’t mind.”
“You got it,” Jean said.
I glanced over. Shep’s eyes were wandering. Lily-Lila seemed to be telling a lengthy story, and it didn’t look like Shep was particularly interested. As his gaze wandered, we made eye contact. I jolted as the connection was made, currents of electricity shooting through my body.
At once it seemed like everyone in the restaurant ceased to be. The dull roar of chatter seemed to fade and melt into a distant background noise. It seemed like the lights all went dim, and it was just Shep and I sitting in the restaurant, making eyes across a crowded room like some contemporary Romeo and Juliet, only there was nothing forbidden about our relationship—
nobody saying we couldn’t be together, nobody trying to hold us apart, nobody but me.
Jean returned with the drink. “The mozzarella sticks will be right up,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said. I lifted the glass to my mouth and took a sip, and when I looked back to Shep, he’d gone back to looking at his date.
11
Sunday mornings were my favorite mornings to drive because everyone was either sleeping in or attending church, which meant the roads were almost completely clear. Sure, there were a few cars here and there, but for the most part, the streets were deserted.
I wasn’t out for a Sunday drive, just to explore the town. No, I had a destination in mind, places to go, people to see. Rather, a person.
I pulled up in front of Shep’s garage. True to form, his truck was parked outside. I parked my Civic beside it, rounded the building, and tried the door. Despite the conspicuous CLOSED sign on the door, I tried the knob. It was unlocked.
“Jay? That you?” Shep’s distinguishable voice floated in from the garage. I rounded the counter and stepped out into the garage. The layout was similar to what it had been a week earlier, just with different cars. I paused at the doorway.
“Jay? Is—” Shep, bent over the open hood of a car, looked over his shoulder at me, stopping mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow at me and went back to doing whatever he was doing.
For a time the garage was silent, except for Shep’s radio—which was tuned to one of the local rock and roll stations—and the clanking and ratcheting of his tools as he worked on the engine. I didn’t want to venture into the garage, but then again, I wasn’t going to leave. So for a time we just stood there, frozen in time, him waiting for me to make the first move and me waiting for him to make it. In the end, I won.
“I got nothing to say to you,” he said, without looking up from the engine block.
“I know,” I said, taking it as an invitation. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I wandered into the garage. “I didn’t think you would. But I have something to say. I’m hoping you’ll hear it.”
He didn’t respond; he just focused on the engine block. I waited for a few moments and then continued.
“I married Max when I was nineteen,” I said. “I was young then. It seemed like a great idea. Max came from a well-to-do family; he had prospects, he seemed like the kind of guy who would take care of me.” I approached the car he was working on and leaned against the driver’s side door. “And that was the problem, I think. I was looking for someone to take care of me. I wasn’t looking for someone to complete me, I guess. I was looking for someone that I could make me feel safe, so I wouldn’t have to.”
I paused. Shep was either ignoring me or listening; I couldn’t tell which.
“For years I put up with Max. He had this whole nineteen-fifties idea for how things were going to work. He’d pursue a career, and I’d stay at home, cooking and cleaning. Once we had kids, I’d take care of them, too. I had dreams, sure. I wanted to go back to school and have a career of my own. Anytime I brought it up, though, Max would remind me of what I was—someone who was better off staying home, someone who would start school and never finish it. And the thing is, he was right.”
“I was a child. No, I wouldn’t have finished school if I’d gone back in my twenties. I would have run up a huge debt and have nothing to show for it. Worse, I always blamed Max for keeping me down, but I was keeping myself down. I was so afraid of change that I never pursued it. Until finally I decided that enough was enough. It was time for me to grow up, put on my big-girl panties. The first step was divorcing Max, which I did. And I’m not going back. Every day that I spent resisting the urge to go back to Max was a victory. Now he’s getting married again, so I guess the point is moot, but now I have school, which I’m going to finish.”
“I guess my point is�
��I don’t want to rely on a man. Or a woman, for that matter. I want to be able to rely on myself. If I need something, I want to be the one to get it. I’m okay with help. I’m okay with suggestions. I’m okay with pointers. But I don’t want people doing things for me anymore. I don’t want people spoon-feeding me because I can’t do it myself. I don’t want someone else living my life because I’m afraid to do it myself. And right now, I see that you were right. We do have chemistry. There is something between us. And I want to explore it. I want to find out where the rabbit hole leads. Not for you. For me.”
Shep continued doing whatever he was doing. I waited for a minute to see if he would react. If he took my offer, great. If not, oh well. I wasn’t going to get on my knees and beg him to get back together with me. No, I’d just go out and find another guy, one with whom I had chemistry.
“That project,” Shep said. “The one for business class. You know that’s like sixty percent of the grade, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And we haven’t finished it.”
“I know.”
“So if you think you’re going to make it through school, we should probably get started on it.” Solemnly, he set the wrench aside. He was filthy, sweaty and covered in grease.
I wanted that grease all over me.
“We should,” I agreed. “But I think I need to earn some extra credit with my partner, first.”
“Oh yeah?” Those pale eyes lit up, and I saw a hint of the dangerous Shep that came out to play when he was turned on. “What did have in mind? I’ll tell you if it’s going to happen or not.”
“Hmm, on second thought, maybe we should get the project done first.” He grabbed me by my belt loops with a low growl that made my pussy clench.
“That’s right. We’re going to finish the project first because you deserve to wait for my cock.” Heat flooded me. “You put me through hell, so we’re going take our time.”
Cupcake (Complete Me #1) Page 6
