“I may have,” I say, keeping my answer short, so I don’t distract him.
“Well, it all started as a way piss off my dad.” When he says this, his normally carefree personality seems to disappear. Anger and disgust cross his face.
“Okay, that makes complete sense,” I say, the sarcasm clear in my voice.
He pauses, looking as if he’s trying to decide how much to share. He’s clenching his teeth and I can see the muscle in his jaw twitching. This is angry Adrian.
Making his decision, he goes on. “My dad’s a grade-A piece of shit. He doesn’t care about me or my brothers, he only cares that we make him look good. So, I utilize every opportunity I can to screw up, hoping to piss him off a little more every day.”
“You really know how to stick it to ‘em,” I mock. “I mean, what better way to tell your dad to fuck off than to ruin your own future.”
He waves me off. “You sound like my aunt. She’s always telling me I need to set goals, and grow up and stop eating butter straight from the fridge.”
What the hell? I don’t know if I should laugh or throw up.
“Anyway,” Adrian goes on, now pacing the room. “Now I'm here, at college, and I've had more fun than a dozen five-year-olds at Chucky cheese, but probably a little too much fun. You see, I'm kinda on my third strike with the dean well, more accurately, probably my twenty-third strike, but who's counting?"
I turn my chair to watch him pacing. ”Well, the dean of students I'm guessing."
"You are correct," he says, stroking his jaw. "And because the dean is so inappropriately obsessed with my behavior management issues, that is why I need a babysitter.”
I look at him questioningly. “I think that’s the dean of student’s job, to manage your behavior.”
He throws his hands up in frustration. “Will you please stop interrupting me? I don’t know how you get such good grades when you’re so easily distracted.”
Uh-huh, I get distracted.
“Back to my proposition,” he says, “I need someone who doesn't take my shit and isn't afraid to put me in my place. I need someone to be with me most times when I'm on campus… and off-campus is probably necessary too.”
"You want me to do what, hold your hand and lock you in your room at night?" I already know this is a horrible idea, but I need details, purely for my amusement.
"I need to stop partying five nights a week. I need to make sure I get to my student teaching every day because not passing that will mean no graduation. And I need to not get arrested anymore. That one's kind of a biggie." He grimaces, with extreme exaggeration.
Chapter 20
I Stole A Chicken
“You’ve been arrested?” I sound shocked, but I don’t know why.
"Only three times,” he says with a shrug.
Only three times. Wow. “And what exactly were those three times for?" I need to know. I mean, this has to be good.
"Two of them were drunk and disorderly. You know every college kids has a couple of those." He waves it off.
"Sure, absolutely.” My voice sounds slightly patronizing, but I’m trying here.
"And the third one, well that was a misunderstanding."
I’ll bet. “And what was that charge?" I ask, slightly terrified to hear the answer.
"Solicitation."
Didn't see that one coming. "And how exactly, does a twenty-year-old guy—”
He cringes again, holding up a hand to stop me. “Nineteen. It happened when I was nineteen.”
“Okay then, how exactly does a nineteen-year-old guy get picked up on solicitation charges?” I ask, but then I think better. I hold up a finger. “Wait, never mind, let’s keep moving. So, that's your official criminal history, what’s your history with trouble here on campus?”
Again, I’m not at all entertaining the idea of spending all my free time with him. No, not at all interested in that, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been this entertained by one conversation so there’s no way in hell I’m walking away yet.
Adrian, now leaning on my desk, holds up his fingers and starts ticking off the offenses. "There were two incidents, wait, no three incidents of being in the girls dorms after hours. I’ve gotten kicked out of the cafeteria at least once a year, for standing on the tables. There was the one time I got caught stealing a chicken from the school farm, and then there was the time I tried to climb through a window at the president’s house."
Where do I start… with the chicken because obviously I need to know why. And really, we have a campus farm? As tempting as that one is, I need to know how he did not get arrested for breaking into the president’s house, making criminal act number four.
"Please." I gesture for him to continue. "Do tell this story of the president’s house."
Adrian shakes his head and waves as if he’s brushing me off. "Nah, you’d be bored. Besides I think we're getting off track here don't you? And you accuse me of getting distracted." He shakes his head, giving me a disappointed look.
I'm tempted to point out that me being intrigued by his story of crawling through windows, and being arrested for prostitution, is slightly different then when he smells pizza and completely forgets what we're talking about, but that would only side track him further.
"Okay,” I begin, trying to get somewhere with this conversation. “You want me to lock you in your room at night so you don't go out drinking. Be your alarm clock every morning, and keep you from committing any type of criminal activity." After I list all these, I ask, “Did I get all that right?"
He smiles, and it engulfs his face. ”I knew you were the girl for the job. You totally get me."
"Oh no,” I say, shaking a finger at him. “I can assure you, I do not get you. I can also assure you, that I do not have time to be your personal babysitter."
I don’t mention that spending more time with him would seriously screw with my mental stability. I’m honest, but I’m not stupid.
He purses his lips looking thoughtful, then nods. “You should probably pretend to be my girlfriend.”
I choke on my laugh. “I’m sorry, did you say I should tie a rope around your penis and the other end to a rabid dog?”
He squeezes his thighs together. “Damn woman, you’re so violent.”
I smile sweetly.
“I think you're missing the point,” he says with a frustrated shake of his head.
“Oh, I guarantee I am.”
He sighs, then walks back over to sit on the bed, spinning me to face him. Taking my hands again, his expression shifts, and he looks pleading.
“I need you. It’s not about my dad anymore. It’s about my aunt and brothers. I don’t want to disappoint her and I need to be a good role model for them.”
That reminds me I wanted to ask him about his family, but every time we’re together he throws me off and I get nowhere.
“Your aunt is raising your brothers?” He nods. “Will you tell me about them?” I ask, honestly curious. He’s only mentioned his dad and brothers in this conversation but not given me any real information.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asks with a devilish smile.
Chapter 21
What’s In It For Me
I pull my hands from his and rub my face. “I’m confused. Are you asking me to be your real girlfriend, your pretend girlfriend, or your babysitter? If it’s the first, then the answer is no. If it’s the second, well the answer is still probably no.”
This is what I say out loud, in my head all kinds of thoughts are bouncing around. Most are similar to “if I’m your pretend girlfriend, can we have real sex?”
I go on. "Babysitter infers that it would be a job. If it's a job, that means that I would get paid. So that may be an option."
Looking serious, he says, "The girlfriend option works better for me."
"I'm sure it does,” I say with a straight face.
He holds up a hand. "Just listen, please."
I cross my arms over my chest and lean back
in the chair.
"I need it to look like I’m truly making an effort to change and grow up. If it looks like someone is chasing me around with a taser every time I screw up, that doesn't look like real change. If I have a girlfriend that I'm head over heels for, my attempts at following the rules would look more sincere."
I narrow my eyes. “Who exactly is watching?"
"My dad,” he says without emotion.
With a sarcastic look and tone, I ask, “Does he have cameras on campus?"
"In a sense, yes."
I heave a frustrated sigh. I'm beginning to feel like this is some elaborate story, but I'm not sure what his motive is. He said his dad’s an ass, but it sounds to me like he cares enough to want more for Adrian than a partial college career and an arrest record.
"You've been purposely pissing off your dad since in high school and now, all of a sudden you want to make him happy? I’m missing something, or you’re making this crap up for some bizarre reason.”
Look,” he says, releasing his own sigh. “There's a lot more at stake, but I don't want to get into it now. Trust me, I need to get my shit together."
The sadness in his eyes says more than his words. I may not know why, but he’s desperate. I want to know more. I want to hear about his brothers, and what his dad has done to qualify him as a grade-A asshole. Maybe tomorrow.
“What’s in it for me?” I ask, half joking.
His response is instant as if this has been part of the plan. “I’ll pay your rent this semester, and next.”
Huh, that makes it more interesting. That would mean I could stop tutoring, which would give me more time to study, or babysit this man-child.
I hesitate, pretending to consider. I use that moment to tell myself I’m only doing this for the money. “Okay, I’ll keep your ass in line, and pretend to like you when we're in public."
He shakes his head. “And with our friends."
"What? Why would we need to act like we’re together around them?” This is getting ridiculous. I should tell him no.
“There are several reasons.” He holds up his hand, ticking them off. “If we act around some people and not others, it would get confusing. Too much chance of falling out of character when we’re in public.”
Um, I call bullshit, but I don’t say that yet. I’ll let him get through all these stupid reason.
“If our friends know, that’s more people who have to act while we’re in public. We don’t need to drag them into this.”
Okay, that’s not a horrible reason. I could see Max being completely irritated by the whole thing if he knew the truth.
“Also, do you think Gemma would approve of this? She would lecture us both—me about honestly working to change, and you for prostituting yourself.” He looks at me with a sad smile.
“I’m not prostituting myself,” I argue. “I’m not sleeping with you. If I were sleeping with you so that you’d pay my rent, then I could agree.”
He shrugs. “That’s fine. You can have that argument with Gemma if you want.”
I may be strangely attracted to him, and sometimes go stupid when he touches me, but I’m aware he’s totally manipulating this situation. I just don’t know why.
“Those are crap reasons, and honestly, you’re making me reconsider. Besides, how do we tell our friends that ‘oh, by the way, I know we don’t really like each other, but hey, we’re dating now’?”
He waves me off. “I got that. They’ve all seen the sex eyes you give me. It won’t be that big of a stretch.”
I drop my face into my hands, feeling exhausted from this conversation, and we’ve not yet gotten to defining exactly how he expects me to act like his girlfriend. If he thinks I’m holding hands and skipping around the quad, the deal is definitely off.
I stand and gesture to the door. “I’m tired and confused. Can we finish this conversation tomorrow?”
He presses his mouth into a hard line, looking like he’s fighting telling me something. After a few seconds he says, “Please, Keegan. If I don’t get my shit together, my brothers will be the ones to suffer. It’s not forever… just until you get my ass into shape.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Dammit, why did he have to go all sweet and throw his brothers out there again? Unable to resist his pitiful look, I groan. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
He lunges toward me and takes my face between his hands, giving me a quick kiss. When he pulls back, his playful tone is back. “Thank you. I know we’re going to make a great couple.”
Yeah, well, we’d make a better couple if you’d kiss me the way you did in the hall that day…
Chapter 22
Marry Me
At lunch, the next day, all six of us are gathered in the boy’s kitchen for lunch. I’ve been gassy all day, probably from the two corndogs I had for breakfast—I’m PMSing again. Of course I’ve farted in front of my roommates, but I’ve managed to control myself around the guys. I’m thinkin’ I’m not gonna be able to keep this one in. It’s been building since we started making lunch, so it’s not going to be quiet either.
I’m struggling not laugh just thinking of Gemma and Shyanne’s reaction if I let it fly—they would be completely mortified. It’s totally worth their reaction, plus, I'm pretty sure this will take care of my Adrian problem. I can't imagine he's going to want me, the girl who plays anal acoustics at the dinner table, to be his girlfriend, pretend or not.
As soon as the noise echoes through the kitchen, everyone goes completely silent. I think they even stop chewing their food. Of course everyone looks at me because… well, it's me.
I roll my eyes, still trying not to laugh. "Oh come on,” I say to the girls, “I fart in front of you two all the time. You had to know that it was eventually going to happen in front of the boys."
Before either of them can respond, Adrian jumps to his feet, eyes wide, shaking his head. “I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he says before he practically runs out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.
And there it is. Problem solved.
But just when I think I’ve gotten control of the situation, Arian rushes back into the kitchen. He drops to his knees next to my chair and reaches up to take my hand.
“I know I told you I wasn’t going to propose yet, but holy shit, Keegan. You just farted, out loud, in front of our friends, while we were eating lunch.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “I started to fall in love with you the first time you mentioned the zombie apocalypse. I fell a little more when you stuck a metal object in the toaster while it was plugged in, and just now, I fell completely in love with you.” He lifts his other hand, showing me a pink and black ring with a skull and crossbones on it. “I picked this out after you stuck a knife in the toaster.” Adrian’s smile gets wide when he looks from the ring back up to me. “Keegan Marie Hughes, will you marry me sometime in the far-off future?”
Well, how about that twist? I’m tempted to smack him in the ear for pulling this stunt, but his wide eyes look like he’s pleading with me. I get why everyone in this room is shocked, instead of laughing—Adrian looks like he meant every word. I glance down at the ring he’s holding and have to wonder where he got it. More importantly, when did he get it? We just had the conversation last night about him needing a babysitter or girlfriend… whatever. There's no way he went out after that and got this ring. He said he got it a couple weeks ago. Is he seriously saying that he is been thinking about this for a while?
Realizing everyone is waiting for me to say something, I speak the truth. “You are one seriously fucked-up individual. You know that, right?”
Adrian nods, with an anxious expression.
“Do I have to have sex with you?” I throw this out because that’s exactly what I’d ask if this whole thing were real.
Adrian shakes his head and answers instantly, “Not for at least two months.”
What? Where did that answer come from? I shake my head. “Whatever.”
Adrian slides
the ring on my finger, then lifts my chin with his thumb, and kisses me.
When his mouth closes over mine, he grasps the back of my head, pulling me hard against his mouth. He kisses me like he's been waiting to kiss me for months. This kiss causes my fingers to twitch, desperate to rip off his clothes. Inside my chest, I feel as though my heart grows arms and digs its fingers into my ribs, as it slams itself into my chest over and over again.
When he pulls away, I’m pretty sure I’m breathing a lot harder than he is.
“I have to get to class,” he says, then grabs his backpack and walks out the front door.
As he walks away, I have to refrain from fanning myself—not my face. No, the heat I'm feeling is between my legs. I think I'm going to need some one-on-one time with Hawk today.
“Um, Keegan…” Gemma stutters, but Shyanne goes for the smack to the back of my head.
I rub my head while scowling at her. “What the fuck was that for?”
Her eyes are huge. “Keegan, do you not see how the last fifteen minutes were like an episode of The Twilight Zone?” She throws her hands up. “Sweet Zombie Jesus, you just accepted a proposal… From Adrian!”
“It was kind of sweet,” I say, honestly.
“Keegan, he asked you to marry him because you farted in a room full of other people,”
I shrug. “I’m pretty sure I could do worse than a guy who tells me he has fallen in love with me because of all my negative qualities.”
I can’t help but hear my mom’s words replay in my head. “You have always made your own way, been your own person. And the guy who will make you a priority will be the guy who loves that most about you.”
Fuck, what’ve I done? This guy, who I’ve sworn to keep at a distance because of the effect he has on me, just made me his fake fiancé. I’m gonna spend time with him, and he’s gonna get further into my mind. Then he’ll turn and walk away, without a second thought, or even a goodbye. Just like they all do.
Chapter 23
Kiss Me More
Our Kinda Love Page 8
