Dylan stiffens, as if even that bit of information about him is something he prefers to keep a secret.
“Twenty-eight? Isn’t that young to be a professor?” He looks his age. I don’t even know why I’m asking this.
“Right?” Tommy socks his brother on the arm. “Overachiever. He took college classes all through high school, graduated college at twenty, started his PhD while working as a TA, and then became Assistant Professor. He’s done with the PhD now and got his tenure in record time. He’s the youngest Associate Professor at Riggins.”
Professor Dick looks down, color tints his cheeks. “Tommy.” The single word an admonition. “She’s not interested in my bio.”
I am. I’m very interested in his bio. “Impressive, professor. Or should I say … Dylan?” His name sounds strange on my lips.
He stares and says nothing.
“I promise to take excellent care of Tommy. He'll be in expert hands.” I show him my hands and wiggle my fingers at him.
Gus comes in then and calls out his five-minute warning. The last couple of people sitting around get up to settle their tab, and Dylan has no other option but to relent. Either that or make an ass of himself. Which I bet he's not in the habit of doing.
The way the professor looks at me tells me there will be hell to pay for my little stunt. Of that, I'm sure. I'm kind of looking forward to it. What does that say about me?
Chapter Seven
I’m an asshole. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter Eight
I should be happy right now. Halloween is my favorite holiday. But here I am at this party. Sans Tommy. Bet his brother said something to him. Fuck the professor and his ethics bullshit. Where's the ethics in judging someone you don't even know?
Asshole.
Dick.
Of all the people on campus, why did Tommy have to be related to him?
Last night’s meeting with Professor Dick was still fanning the flames of anger in my chest. I want to hit something. Preferably the Dick himself. Punch him right in the face. Or the dick. Yes, punch Professor Dick in the dick. I do a little stepping and punching like Rocky and get a “you’re weird” glare from a group of girls. Screw them too.
I make my way to the kitchen in the back of the house and find the line for the keg. Some random dude offers me a beer. I decline. “Thanks. But I always get my beer straight from the keg.” It’s the safest way to get a drink. He shrugs and walks away, drinking from the cup he tried to give me.
I get in line for the keg and check my costume while I wait, making sure to align my dollar store cat ears, confirm the tail is still attached to the back of my black leggings and tug down at my black crop shirt. Everything is in place.
When it's my turn, the guy manning the keg looks me up and down with a lascivious smile on his face.
“Helloooo, pussycat,” he slurs, putting emphasis on pussy.
I ignore his attempts to get my attention and help myself to the beer.
“Ah, don't play hard to get. Come here, pussycat. I got some catnip for you.”
I make the mistake of glancing over my shoulder at him.
“Right here,” he says, grabbing his crotch before nearly falling over laughing at his own stupid joke.
I make my way back to the living room, looking for a familiar and friendly face. I see many familiar faces, but friendly, not so much.
My own fault for mistrusting everyone and keeping them at bay.
I miss Tommy.
Becca: Happy Halloween! You’re missing a great party.
Nothing. When I texted him earlier and asked if he wanted to come to this party with me, he said he couldn’t. He was busy. No other explanation.
Becca: What are you up to?
Usually Tommy texts me nonstop.
“Becca!” My name is barely audible over the loud music. Closer by The Chainsmokers plays in the background. I turn around looking for whoever is calling me and see River across the room. She’s sauntering my way, dressed like a sexy cheerleader and holding a red cup high above her head. People part for her, like Moses at the Red Sea. River draws both envious glares and lusty gazes, but she’s oblivious to all of it.
“Hey, beauty.” I tap her cup with mine once she’s next to me.
She rolls her eyes at me and pinches my arm.
“Ouch!” I complain, but she didn’t really hurt me. She hates when I call her that.
“That’s aversion therapy for you. Every time you say something like that, I’m going to pinch you. I’ll be your human rubber band.”
I rub the spot. “You’re alone?”
“Nope. Skye and her boyfriend are here. They’re hanging out back by the fire pit.”
“Wow, who managed that small miracle? Skye at a party? Was it you or her new guy?”
“It was a joint effort.” She takes a sip of her drink, glancing around. This is something I have noticed River doing a lot lately whenever we’re at a party. She’s checking out faces, like she’s looking for someone.
“Who are you looking for?”
“No one.” Her eyes are back on me. “Just looking. Some new faces today.”
“Yeah …”
“You look distracted.” River fixes a quizzical gaze on me. Tommy’s absence in getting to me. “There are always new faces in the beginning of the school year, transfers and freshmen.” I wave my hand around, stating the obvious, and some of my beer spills over.
River takes the cup from me and puts both our drinks on a window ledge. She’s going to rip me a new one about excessive drinking. I know it.
I’m rescued by a tap on my shoulder, and when I turn, my friend Lucas is there with a big smile on his handsome face. He picks me up and squeezes me in a bear hug before setting me back on my feet with a loud kiss on my cheek.
I can’t help but smile when I see him. Lucas is the kind of guy everyone loves.
“Hey, you. How was your summer?” I ask him.
“It was awesome. Went on vacation with the family, had a lot of fun with my sisters. You?”
“Same old. Worked some, took a summer class, slept a lot.”
Lucas, my sweet boy. He’s the only hookup I’m friends with.
River narrows her eyes at the way his hand grips my hip and slides up to my waist to tug me into another hug, kissing my temple this time.
He extends a hand to River. “Hey, I’m Lucas, nice to meet you.”
“Ugh. Sorry, I have no manners. This is my BFF River. River, this is Lucas, an … old friend. It’s odd you guys never met before.”
They shake hands, and River has a million questions flashing in her eyes. It won’t be long before they all come spilling out. She thinks I’m dating Tommy. She met him a few times when he’s joined us for lunch. The familiarity with which Lucas holds me close to him and touches me signals the intimate way we know each other. And right now River has a WTF look on her face. She knows I don’t cheat. I may have had a lot of hookups, but two-timing has never been my thing.
River has met a few of the guys I’ve dated. Most of the time, I’m over them and moving on before she meets them, but Lucas lasted the longest, and he’s a good friend. Now that I think about it, it’s odd that River and Lucas never crossed paths.
“How’s everything?” I ask him.
He knows what I mean. When we met last year, it was right after his high school girlfriend dumped him, saying they both needed to have the chance to meet other people. It hurt Lucas badly, and it’s taken him a long time to get over her. For months, he hoped she’d come back to him, but she didn’t. And, since she also attends Riggins, Lucas has been forced to see her hooking up with different guys at parties. She really took the whole meeting-new-people idea to the extreme.
Lucas gives me a huge smile and raises a hand for a high five. “One hundred percent. I’m cured.”
“For reals?” I ask as my hand meets his.
“For reals.”
It took him almost a year to get over his ex. And
I know he went through a lot of girls to do it. He literally had to fuck her out of his system by fucking everyone else.
“Oh, fuck!” River ducks as if hiding.
“What’s the matter?”
“Just saw someone I never expected to see at Riggins. I gotta talk to my sister. Be right back.”
She disappears into the crowd. I turn back to Lucas, and his eyes are on a girl coming down the stairs on the opposite side of the room.
“Someone you know?” I bump into his shoulder.
“Yes. That, right there,” he says waving to the girl. “Is the reason I know I’m one hundred percent cured.”
My eyebrows rise. “Tell me more.”
“Meet for lunch next week?”
“Yes, call me?”
“Sure thing,” he calls out, his back to me as he makes his way to the girl at the bottom of the stairs.
I’m alone again. I lean against the wall. My phone is burning a hole in my pocket with the need to text Tommy. I don’t fight it.
Becca: Are you mad at me?
Tommy: …
Dots appear and disappear. The screen goes black, and I tap it. This goes on for minutes until there are no dots and no response. He saw my text. He thought about a reply, but he chose not to.
My chest aches, and the back of my eyes burn.
River is back. She nudges me with her elbow, and I drop the phone. “Oops. Sorry.” She picks it up before I can react. She gives me the phone, the screen facing up. “Hey, what’s with the texting? Tommy ghost you?”
Tears fill my eyes, and I suck in a deep breath. It hurts more than I imagined possible.
I. Will. Not. Cry.
River steps in front of me and bends to look me in the eye. “You’re upset. Sorry. It was a joke. What’s happened?”
And in this moment, I hate Professor Dick with all the fury I’ve harbored for years. It doesn’t matter that Tommy’s brother is not guilty of any of the things that happened to me. I blame him for all of it.
“This is all Professor Dick’s fault. He’s the reason Tommy’s not here. He’s the reason Tommy won’t respond to my texts. It’s all his fault!”
The people closest to us turn and stare, a few more move away and whisper to one another.
River’s brows shoot up, and she touches my arm. “Wow. Back up a bit. Start from the beginning.”
I pocket my phone and grab my cup from the ledge. Drink it. Then grab River’s beer and drink that too before she can stop me. I stare at the empty cup. It won’t be empty much longer. “I need something stronger.”
I walk to the kitchen with River at my heels. The same asshole is manning the keg. I veer around the douchebag and make my way to the hard liquor sitting behind him. Never mind beer. This day calls for something stronger. I grab the first thing my hand lands on and tilt it into my cup, filling it halfway before River grabs the bottle from me. I walk away, clutching the cup to my chest like a lifesaver. River shadows me.
I didn’t even see what the label on the bottle said, but the liquid in my cup is amber colored, like Professor Dick’s eyes. I take a gulp and welcome the unfamiliar taste. It burns going down. Hits the spot in seconds. Soothing. Numbing. I enjoy this … this welcoming nothingness.
“Dude, slow down. What’s going on?” River tries to take the cup away from me, but I pull back.
“I haven’t gotten drunk in two months. I’m celebrating!” I lift my arms in salute.
River’s shoulders drop. She presses her lips together.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not even drunk yet. Not completely.” I drain the cup. It burns going down.
I turn back to the kitchen, going for a refill on whatever that was.
River latches on to my arm. “I don’t think so. Give me your keys.”
I glare at her.
She says nothing, just puts her hand out. I fish into my pocket and give her my car keys. She pushes me toward a loveseat and gives the guy occupying it a killer smile. His face lights up at the attention. Poor sucker. He won’t get lucky tonight. Not with River anyway. She’s on a men-strike.
“Hi. Can you let my friend sit there for five minutes? I’ll be right back.”
The dude trips over himself, trying to make room for me.
Then she whisper-shouts, “Don’t let her leave, please?”
“Sure,” he answers with hearts in his eyes.
Dude stands there, watching over me like I’m a lost puppy, and he’s eager for the reward he’ll get when my owner comes back. River is back in less than five minutes.
“Can I get your number?” He leans in, tapping his phone.
She touches his arm and pouts. “Sorry, but I’m not really dating right now. Thank you so much for monitoring my friend, though. I have to take her home now.”
She kisses him on the cheek. He smiles, not even mad. Bet he’ll be jerking off to that innocent kiss for years to come.
Chapter Nine
I peer through the window and smile. Being here, surrounded by these babies, always calms me down. I find Baby Jay in his incubator and wave even though I know he can’t see or hear me from the other side of the NICU glass.
“Be right back, sweetheart.”
I walk to the cleaning station to wash my hands and get a gown. My phone buzzes in my pocket. River.
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi. Are you all recovered from Halloween?”
“I sure hope so. It’s been two days, and I wasn’t that drunk. You cut me off before I could do any real damage.”
She snorts. “Why are you whispering?”
“I’m at the hospital.”
“What?” Her voice is alarmed.
“With the babies.” If sound could have an eye roll, my tone would have it.
“Oh, yes. It’s Friday. I always forget about that. How’s the cuddling today?”
“Haven’t started yet. Need to prep before I go in.”
“You still have baby Rose?”
“No, she went home with her parents three weeks ago.”
“I don’t know how I could do what you do. I’d fall in love with every baby and try to take them all home.”
“I know, it was harder in the beginning, but you learn to let go. Having the babies go home is the goal. Plus, they’re not stray puppies. They have families who love them …” I hesitate, thinking of Baby Jay. “For the most part anyway.”
“What do you mean?” River asks.
“I have this new NAS baby.”
“NAS baby?”
“Yeah, NAS stands for neonatal abstinence syndrome.”
“Like a crack baby?”
Ugh. “I hate that term.” These babies didn’t choose to be born with an addition. “Yes. He was born addicted to heroin.”
“Oh my God. That’s horrible. How do they know? The mother said something?”
“The mom abandoned him in a firehouse. We don’t know who she is.”
“I can’t imagine doing such a thing.”
“He is lucky the mother left him in a safe place. Many don’t get that chance.”
“What’s his name? How old is he? Do you have a picture?” River rapid-fires the questions, one after the other.
“He came in as baby John Doe. I can’t stand calling him that, so I’ve been calling him Baby Jay. He’s three weeks old, but he shouldn’t be born yet. He’s a preemie. They figured he was under thirty weeks when he was born. And no pictures. It’s not allowed.”
“Aw,” she coos. “Again, I have no idea how you do that.”
“I don’t know. I can’t say you get used to it because you don’t. I’ve been coming here for three years every single Friday, and it both breaks my heart and heals my soul every single time.” The truth of what I said weighs into my chest. I swallow.
“You amaze me.”
I laugh. “I love being a baby cuddler.”
“I know you do. Call me when you’re done. Maybe we can do something this weekend.”
“Sure
. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”
I turn my phone off, put my things in the locker, then wash my hands before putting on a disposable gown, cap, and shoe coverings. I can’t wait to hold Baby Jay. When I get to his incubator, sleepy eyes blink at me, tiny fists raised, skin so thin and pink, I can see the veins beneath. He’s shaking. His little mouth opening and closing without making a sound. It’s a terrifying thing to watch. I pick him up and cuddle him to my chest, and the shakes from his heroin withdrawal subside. His little body relaxes against mine.
“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you today?”
Baby Jay mewls in response.
I look around for a free rocking chair to sit in. Nancy, the senior NICU nurse, waves at me. I move Baby Jay from my shoulder to the cradle of my arm and settle in a rocking chair.
“Oh, look. Nancy has a bottle all ready for you. Are you hungry?”
“You’re his favorite, you know?” Nancy hands me the bottle.
I smile. “He’s my favorite too, aren’t you, Baby Jay?” I touch his little mouth with the bottle, and he latches on.
Nancy smiles at me. “We’ll miss you when you graduate and move away.”
What? I’m shocked into silence for a moment. Graduation is six months away, and I haven’t thought much about what I’ll do when the time comes. Stay on campus for a grad program or try to find my own place while I work and go to school. I didn’t think of having to give up my volunteer time at the hospital. Nancy waits for a response.
“I don’t know what I'll do. I hope to stay close enough to still come by.”
“You’re not going back home, then?”
Home. I know what the word means. I know its definition. But I don’t experience the warm and fuzzies most people do when they think of home.
“No. Not planning on leaving. This is my home.” I know she thinks I’m referencing the state or the town, but I’m not. This hospital, my dorm room, spending time with River, that’s my home. I don’t want to leave any of it behind.
“I hope you can still come by then. God knows these babies need all the love and help they can get.”
Because of Dylan: A forbidden student teacher slow burn romance (Riggins U Book 3) Page 5
