“When can I see you again?” God, he sounded desperate. But something wouldn’t let her walk away. Maybe it was the cheerful rainbow scarf, so bright and simple.
“I can’t quite tell if you’re a jerk, or just an idiot.” She smiled at him anyway and the words were like an endearment.
“When?” he pressed.
“Sorry, pal. Until you clear it up with Becca, the answer to that is next door to never. I do not date guys who date my friends.” She danced away from his reach, sauntering down the sidewalk into the wind, leaving just the scent of lavender behind on the wind.
“What took you so long? It’s freezing out here.” Dell and Becca huddled together.
“I dropped a mitten.” She held her hands up, showing both colorful mittens. “All clear. Shall we?”
The three linked arms and walked down the sidewalk. Dell leaned close to say something to Lucy, and Becca peeked over her shoulder to smile coyly at him.
Damn. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl. Totally, 100 percent, wrong girl.
Chapter Three
“Mom, do you need any help in there?” Drew called into the shower. He sat waiting, bath towel ready. She had turned off the water a moment ago and hadn’t said anything.
“Not yet, can you just hand in that rose lotion, dear?” Her voice wobbled with pain and weariness. Having your hip replaced was almost an outpatient procedure these days, but it was still damn hard rehabilitation.
And his mom hated, hated being reliant on anyone. It was embarrassing to have her grown son help with these everyday tasks. He explained he had a sabbatical for a semester, to research and write this paper, so this was helping him as much as her.
She told him, “Don’t shit a shitter, kid,” but agreed anyway.
He truly did need a place to go where he wasn’t recognized to research, to get unbiased reactions from female online gamers. He was too well known in Portland, so tucking himself halfway across the country in Milwaukee, growing the beard and dressing like a shlub, was his best option. Plus, he was under deadline. His Comic-Con presentation coincided with the article release in Wired magazine. The timing was vital.
She poked her hand out with the lotion bottle. “Okay. Close your eyes.” She pulled open the curtain, and he aimed the towel at the feet he peeked at. She had painted her toes before the surgery, a bright cheerful red. They were chipped now, and he reminded himself to repaint them for her.
He shuffled forward, wrapping her with the huge towel, letting her tuck the edges tight before he lifted her up, hoisted her over the edge of the tub and put her gently on the ground. She braced her hands on his shoulders, and he picked up the clean pink underpants waiting on the counter. Crouching at her feet, he tapped the good leg first, and she lifted her foot, grunting a little under the strain.
“Next foot.” He shut his eyes as he shimmied them up under her towel. Next on, a pair of stretchy cotton pants that didn’t rest too heavy on the incision. She turned, pulling on a bra and shirt.
Her eyes were glassy with pain. She quickly ran a brush through her short damp hair, and he helped her hobble back to the living room and the easy chair she was camping out in. He fetched her pain pills, and a glass of water.
She sighed, propping her feet back up in the lounger as he remembered he wanted to redo the polish. He hurried to the bathroom and plucked the same color from a drawer, folding himself to crouch before her on an ottoman.
“So,” she sighed. He slowly painted the first nail over the color. “So, how is your research going? Meeting interesting girls?”
“I am. Actually, I met some who live here in the building. Lucy, and her cousin Becca.”
“Sure, I know them. Up a floor, right? Nice girls. Becca is a preemie nurse, she’s a hard worker. And such a sweetheart. Can you imagine, working with those tiny little babies all the time?”
Andy nodded, concentrating on not making a mess. The thought of working with really small babies all the time sort of made his stomach turn. All the tubes, the needles, the little arms and legs and diapers—it was just too much to think about in depth. He liked kids, sure. He liked them so much, he couldn’t stand the thought of them in pain.
“Lucy, though, she seems more your type. Less sugar, more spice.”
This observation made him pause and glance up. She watched his slow progress with half-lidded eyes. He was surprised to hear her assessment. In all honesty, Lucy was not his type.
His type was young, giggly, with a killer rack and a nice butt. His type was vapid, looked great in a cocktail dress and even better without. They had that wide-eyed excitement to just be with him, he didn’t have to give much effort. Young. His type was easily replaceable.
Lucy wasn’t giggly. She wasn’t blonde or sparkly, and she made it pretty clear she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. And her boobs were real. Ahh, yes, nice and real. In essence, she was absolutely not his type. Yet he was obsessed.
“Do my hands next? You’re very talented. If this whole popular professor PhD thing doesn’t work out for you, you could always get your cosmetology degree.” Susan held a straight face for a few seconds, then snorted and giggled so hard she winced in pain from jostling around her hip.
“What makes you think Lucy is my type?” he asked a moment later, not sure he wanted to hear the answer. He moved slowly through the toes, the soft sound of a game show on the TV. His only answer came as a soft snore. She fell asleep without discussing it further.
Picking up a grocery list his mom had made, he wrote a quick note and dropped it by her glass of water explaining he was out on errands and to call his cell if she needed anything.
He looped the messenger bag over his shoulder and made his way down to the corner coffee shop. It was liberating to not having to meet for office hours or go over class agendas with teachers’ assistants, or conquer his entire reading list. As much as he loved teaching and staying on top of the trends, it was a nice break to do this freelance research. Helping other “nerds” figure out what women gamers really want was a fun topic. He felt like an explorer, daring to traipse into the jungle without a guide.
He paid for his latte, flirting with the coffee girl. She gave him an irritated look, and he blamed it on the beard. It made him look dorky. Which was the point, of course.
He pulled out a notebook and pen, as well as the prequel of the series Lucy was reading, and settled into a table facing the window.
Drew knew what women wanted. But when he tried to put it into words, to write it down, the words seemed to stick in his brain.
Turning to a fresh page in his notebook, he wrote Women Want...
Respect. Duh, there’s a whole song about it.
Women want confidence in a man, but not cockiness, which is why so many great online gaming relationships started up, but fizzled when the people met. It’s easy for guys to be confident in a game. Not so easy when faced with a live female across the table.
He doodled in a little dragon next to the margin of the blank page.
With a frustrated sigh, he flipped his notebook to a few discussions he had with some girls at the comic store. Of the three, two were students. Not surprising, since he was in a college town. One took online classes; the other was in tech support. Both said they liked to play to blow off steam. The third girl was a bit edgier; she was pierced and tattooed and looked dangerous. She was a waitress and singer in a punk band. But she had been pleasant too. She said she liked gaming because it fed her imagination, she could really sink herself into the world and let go of reality.
He jotted down escape on his list of why women game.
Then he stared at the page for a bit. Nope, nothing coming to mind yet. More research needed. He opened his book and read a few pages. A familiar bouncy gait caught his eye out the window. Lucy hurried down the sidewalk. He shoved his stuff back into his bag and raced out of the store, glad he had gotten a to-go cup.
She turned the corner and he followed quickly, admiring the way her back end l
ooked in the black skirt and heels before he caught up with her.
“Hey, Lucy. Wait up.”
“Oh, Andy.” She turned, and he could have sworn she hurried faster. “No time to chat, I have to run these errands...”
He quickly caught up to her with a brisk jog. “I think we’re going to the same place. The grocery store? My mom made a list.”
Nice line. My mom made a list. God, he sounded like a tool.
“Um, neat. Yeah, I’m on my lunch break from work, had to get some stuff.” She turned to go into the fresh food market, and he gallantly held the door open for her.
“You’re not going to grocery shop with me, are you?” She sighed, pursing her lips.
Drew grinned. “Sure, why not? I can help you carry the bags home.”
She harrumphed, but he caught the hint of a smile as she started stuffing apples into a mesh produce bag.
Consulting the list, he took a small vine of grapes and popped a few into his mouth before he plucked some salad fixings, and got a bottle of bleu cheese dressing.
With a shake of her head and a disapproving scowl, she hurried up to the meat counter.
“So, is Susan out of town or something? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Lucy waited for the employee to come over, glancing at her watch. She ordered a half pound of turkey lunch meat, bouncing on her heels impatiently.
“No. She actually had hip surgery.” He got a quarter pound of ham, even though he knew there was some in the fridge right now.
She gave him an odd look. “She had hip surgery? I didn’t know that.”
“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you all about it, if you want to stop over.”
Lucy blushed as she hustled down the breakfast cereal aisle, picking up two boxes of instant oatmeal. “We’re not technically friends. She always managed to catch me when I was in a hurry, and um, well, she likes to chat.”
Drew grabbed a box of granola bars, consulting his list again before he backtracked to pick up some cereal for his mom. Meeting her in the next aisle as she ground a pound of coffee, he leaned against the machine. “She’s very chatty. I know, she can go on and on.”
“Not unlike someone else in the family,” she muttered.
“But she does like you. Now, since you know you have my mom’s seal of approval, when can I see you again?” He picked a bag of the ground coffee, putting it in his basket.
She pulled the bag of coffee out and folded into neat little pleats. “Well, you’re seeing me right now.” She clamped it firmly before charging out of the aisle to the dairy department.
“No, you know what I mean. When can I see you again? Like, a date.”
“I’m sure I made this clear. Never.” She mocked him, tossing her hair over her shoulder and batting her eyes. How could she be so irritating and so adorable at the same time?
Drew felt that goofy grin cross his lips again. She bolted down the dairy aisle, and he took a moment to regroup.
Dr. Drew, PhD, would have some witty comeback. Dr. Drew, PhD, wouldn’t be chasing her around the grocery store, begging for a date. But instead, he was schlubby Andy, with the unruly facial hair and the goofy T-shirts, who wanted to talk about gaming. He rushed to follow Lucy’s lead, pulling out some cheese, detouring to milk and eggs, picked up some yogurt and butter.
He caught up with her in the frozen food aisle. “Come on, I mean it. This is fun, this bantering thing we have here. Let’s do it some more, over a drink, maybe dinner.”
“I think we did that last night, while you were out. With. My. Cousin.” She clenched her teeth. “Remember? Becca?” She pulled out some frozen veggies, and he did the same, not even glancing at what he grabbed as he hurried to keep pace with her.
“I told you, it’s not like that. I was just trying to meet some other gamers, to get to know some people.”
Lucy hurried up the pain relief aisle.
“That’s right. I forgot—she misunderstood. Seriously, just leave me alone.” She blushed, an intoxicating shade of pink over her cheeks, highlighting the freckles.
“Right, I swear.” His phone rang.
“Jesus, just leave me alone.” Her cheeks were positively rosy now, and she was glowing a little bit. It wasn’t that warm in the pharmacy aisle.
He shuffled the basket to his other hand to dig his phone from his pocket.
“Leave you alone? Let me just get rid of this person, and we can talk about that over a salad and bread in the deli, come on. Hello?”
“Andy! Hi! Oh my God, I had the absolute best time last night. Did you have fun? Did you like Lucy and Dell? When can we do it again?”
“Oh, Becca. Hey.”
Lucy turned, propped a hand on her hip and glared at him.
He cleared his throat. “Hey, Becca.” He interrupted her frantic chatter. “I’m just about to check out at the grocery store, but I do need to talk to you about last night. I just want to clarify that it wasn’t a date. I didn’t mean...”
“Oh you silly. Of course it wasn’t a date. When kindred souls like us meet, we don’t have to do that dating thing at all. We can just bypass that and really get to know each other.”
“Kindred souls? What? No. I’ll call you back.” He snapped the phone shut, horrified at how she was jumping ahead twelve steps. Scary, scary, scary.
Glancing back up, Lucy boldly plucked a box of tampons from the shelf and gave him a snarl.
Oh man, was he a bonehead.
Here he was, hitting on her, and she just wanted a moment to get her feminine hygiene product. He spun and searched the shelves for some sort of jock itch item, to even it out.
Her phone rang as she picked up some deodorant. “Oh, hi, Becca. I had a great time last night too. Hmm, I’m not sure. I couldn’t get a good read on Andy. Do I think he’d look good in a tux?” She turned to inspect him as she backed down the aisle, and he stood nailed to the floor. He had already trailed her around the whole grocery store, embarrassed her. The least he could do was let her slip away gracefully.
“Yeah, I guess he might. I mean, he has that scruffy beard, but unless he’s hideous under it, he could shave.”
He rubbed his hand over his beard and grinned sheepishly at her as she turned the corner. Consulting his list, he realized he missed half the items, and headed back over to produce to grab a bunch of bananas his mom asked for.
He had a coffee meeting with a gamer girl in half an hour. He needed to get the groceries back and buzz over to the coffee shop, but he didn’t want to bump into Lucy in the elevator until he could come up with a new plan of attack.
She was a tricky pickle, but she would submit. She would be his. And it would be a sweet treat before he returned to his real life in Portland.
* * *
Lucy played indoor soccer Monday nights. Their team usually lost, but everyone enjoyed themselves. After cleaning up, she hurried to their sponsor bar, The Dirty Goat, and plopped down in a stool next to her teammates. Tuesdays she had off, and she sighed with relief at a relaxing day ahead of her.
“Hey, Lucy. Some guy was in here looking for you a few times,” Craig, her favorite bartender said as he brought down a pitcher for the team. They predictably hooted and hollered, and Lucy felt a blush rising.
“What does he look like?” “Is he hot?” “Tall, dark and handsome?” “Does he have a big schlong?” her teammates cackled.
“I should be so lucky.” Lucy laughed.
“He’s blond.” Craig stood for a moment, thinking. “Scruffy, has a beard. Always has a book, talks about gaming.”
Lucy lost track of the beer she was pouring for a second, spilling on her hand. “Shit.”
“You know him?” Craig wiped up the spill, smiling at her with kind eyes. “I can tell him to get lost next time he comes in here sniffing after you. He’s usually chatting up some girl about gaming, but nobody’s complained. Yet.”
Craig was a big marshmallow. Big and sort of intimidating, but Lucy doubted he had the heart to tell anyone t
o get lost. She shook her head. “No, thanks. He’s just this guy.”
“What does that mean?” her goalie Maddy asked, tossing back a shot.
“Well, he’s dating my cousin. So he’s off-limits.” Lucy shrugged.
“Sweetie, you know Becca’s crazy. I think if he’s making you blush like that, you should exempt him from that rule.”
“Yeah. I know. But there are other rules. No job.”
“He’s always a big tipper,” Craig chirped. “Guys with no job don’t tip that well.”
“That’s not proof. He told me he’s in between things. And the rule is he must have a job. Plus, he lives with his mother.”
They both groaned.
“I think he may be helping her out, I guess she just had hip surgery. Still...things aren’t adding up. I have this weird feeling about him.”
“Hmm.” Maddy drank her beer thoughtfully and Craig hurried off to help another patron.
“I know. And the worst part is, he’s really nice. I mean, I like this guy, but I don’t have patience for this bullshit game playing. That’s what the rules are for.”
“Is facial hair a rule?”
Lucy nodded morosely. “As is wearing sandals with socks.”
“Ooooohhh...that’s a rough ride there, sister.” Maddy tipped her beer in a toast, pulling back at the last second. “Wait a minute, aren’t you dating that Dell guy?
“Sort of. Why?”
“How does he do on the list?”
“He’s perfect. Hits every requirement.”
“Except?”
“Except there’s no zing.”
“Why isn’t zing on the list? Some of my favorite memories include all-wrong guys, but tons of zing.” Maddy had a dreamy smile on her face.
“Zing isn’t on the list. But I’m starting to think it should be.” She shoulder bumped Maddy to bring her back from the fantasy world she’d drifted into.
“Right. Anyway, Dell, Mr. No-Zing, just walked in. And I think he’s looking for you.”
Lucy groaned, not wanting to deal with him. A girls’ night sounded so much more relaxing. Besides, she wanted to hear about these bad boys with zing.
Undercover Professor Page 4
