Crushed (Rushed #2)

by Gina Robinson

  "Shut up." I stared at him. "I haven't been Dad's little princess since he married my babysitter." I paused. "That sounded wrong. Like I'm a spoiled child or something." I forced a smile. "Since he screwed my former babysitter behind Mom's back right after I left for college." I took a deep breath. "Waiting to get divorced until the baby leaves for college is such a stereotype! Who knew I was the glue holding their marriage together. It's like my whole childhood was a lie."

  "Look on the bright side—this could be a bonding opportunity with your older sisters. You finally have something in common with them," he said.

  "Yeah, but they're not on my dad's blacklist right now like I am." I hadn't meant to tell Dakota my problems. "He's furious about my MIP. 'I don't have time for your crap, Morgan. You're an adult now. Act like one.'" I mimicked Dad.

  "'I'm going to retire next year. I'll have a new baby to support soon. I'm too old and tired to handle your screw-ups. One baby in the family is enough.'" I snorted. "'If you even think about drinking or violating the terms of our agreement with the prosecutor, I will pull your college funds and drag you home to learn to be a good role model for the baby.'"

  Dakota stared at me. "Serious?"

  "Deathly." I sighed. I hadn't told anyone else.

  "You do a pretty good dad voice." He paused. "You sound like mine."

  I looked at Dakota, wondering how he could be so calm. "Your dad's threatening the same thing?"

  "Yeah. Without the baby part." He smiled. "Says he'll drag my ass home if I don't stay out of trouble. He has a reputation to maintain. And I'm his son who's destined for politics." He smiled like he didn't care. "In our family, it's kind of like dedicating a son to the church. Second son is of no consequence unless he can prove himself in the arena of politics."

  "That's crap." I bit my lip. "But I can see you as a politician."

  His laugh was bitter. "That makes one of us."

  "You'd be good at it."

  He looked skeptical.

  "My dad's coming to Dad's Weekend to check up on me," I said.

  "Mine too."

  "More things in common. We're on a roll. We should start a commiseration support group!" I winked at Dak.

  His answering laugh was genuine, and he got a devilish look in his eye. "Yeah. Why not?"

  "My grandma's coming, too," I added. "If she's well enough."

  "How is your grandma? She must be doing better."

  I frowned. "How do you know about my grandma?" I remembered too late. Me, sobbing in his arms. Blabbering to him about all my problems, crying over Zach.

  He cleared his throat. "You told me about her heart. She's better, then?"

  A wave of nausea crashed over me. The potato chips I'd eaten rolled over in my stomach. I pushed back from the table.

  Dak frowned. "Morgan? You okay? You look green."

  I took a deep breath and the moment passed. I looked up at him. His face was etched with genuine concern, or at least a well-faked version of it.

  "She's fine," I said, cursing myself. I wasn't even drunk and I was spilling my private biz to him. "Out of the hospital and on the mend." For now.

  He pushed a glass of water my way. "Take a drink. You'll feel better."

  I wasn't thirsty. Even water looked suspect, like my stomach couldn't take it. I took a sip anyway, just so I wouldn't look like a bitch. The water sat in my stomach, but at least it didn't come back up.

  He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. His was too warm, too nice, too comforting. "You have a lot of shit on your plate right now." He held my gaze. "That action plan—you and me need to stick together. Or we'll both do something stupid. Like end up in jail with our college and political careers in the toilet. From now on, you and me are on the buddy system."

  I shook my head. "I'm on social probation. You really want to hang with me?"

  He shrugged. "Like I'm going to be so much fun! Guys who don't drink are only popular as designated drivers. I'm not even fit for that. I can't get my license back until January. Guess I'm SOL."

  I laughed. "That makes two of us. January? Your birthday?"

  He nodded. "The eighteenth."

  "Wow. Coincidence after coincidence," I said. "Our birthdays are back to back. Mine's the seventeenth!"

  "Shit, I'm hanging out with an old lady." He winked. "You get your license back in January, too?"

  "Yeah, and no more chance of an MIP/MIC. I'm going to have the best twenty-first birthday run in history."

  He nodded like he fully understood. His eyes danced. "Enjoy your moment of fame. The next day, I'm making twenty-first birthday history." He glanced at his watch. "Time to get back to class."

  The afternoon session was mostly about making our action plan. It seemed pretty straightforward to me—avoid alcohol, parties, people who drink, enablers, and stress. Basically, drop out of college and join a monastery. Wait a minute—don't monks drink wine? Monasteries were out, too. What did that leave? Get thee to a nunnery? Well, anyway, it sucked.

  We rounded up our chairs into the infamous circle we had all grown to love. Right. Larry prompted us to share. Like I wanted to after last night's fabulous sharing and airing of my relationship with Dakota. Most of the plans were suck-up plans right out of the textbook. As if the makers of them had any intention of following them. The key was not to get caught. Dakota sat next to me. His turn to share popped up before mine.

  He cleared his throat, like he was about to make an important speech. Politician in training. "I've watched a lot of TV shows, like Elementary and Nashville—"

  Dakota watched Nashville? He had to be just pandering. He wasn't a country music or soap opera kind of guy.

  "—where one of the main characters has to kick an addiction. They all have one thing in common. They rely on a good buddy to keep them straight. Someone they can call in the middle of the night. Someone who will jump out of bed and meet them at an all-night coffee shop and stop them from taking that drink or shooting that heroin at any cost."

  Very dramatic.

  He turned and smiled at me with his killer, heart-melting baby-blue eyes. Like I was about to be one of his conquests. Before I could react, he slid off his chair onto one knee and grabbed my hand as if he was about to propose. Something sinister. Even so, my heart beat way too fast.

  "Morgan Peterson, will you do me the great honor of being my sobriety buddy?"

  Larry nearly came out of his chair. "Mr. Bradley, stop making a mockery of this class and take your seat!"

  The rest of the group sniggered as Dakota ignored him.

  Dakota held up a finger. "Give me a minute. I'm serious here." For once, he actually sounded like it. "In return, I'll be your sobriety buddy, in sickness and in health, through problems big and small, and in moments of desperate need. Until we turn twenty-one or our sentences have been served. Whichever comes first."

  The class actually went silent. The guys near me were literally perched on the edge of their seats, waiting for my answer.

  "Does this proposal come with a ring?" I tried to look very serious and not laugh. Or give away my suddenly trembling hands.

  "I thought my proposal had a nice ring to it. Isn't that enough?" Dak was still holding my hand.

  I felt warm and flushed. And happy.

  "Oh, come on! You can't turn the guy down in front of the whole class," the guy on the other side of me said.

  "No fair!" someone else yelled as the class got into the spirit of it. "There aren't enough girls to go around."

  Larry was lividly silent. But he had enough good sense to stand down and stand back to see what happened.

  "To the quick go the spoils." Dakota squeezed my hand. "Well? What do you say?"

  I took a deep breath and quoted a line from The Tempest that I'd been studying in English Lit. "Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows."

  I met a sea of puzzled looks.

  "Shakespeare?"

  Blank stares.

  I rolled my eyes. "Do I have to spell it o
ut? Yes! I say yes." There was no way I could have said no.

  The class erupted in cheers.

  Larry smiled. His eyes twinkled, like he was amused and pleased. With himself. Damn, the man was a good actor, like quicksilver with his moods. "Well played, Mr. Bradley. Miss Peterson, care to share your plan?"

  Dak dropped my hand and slid back into his seat. My hand tingled, missing him already.

  I pointed to him. "I'm on the abstaining, non-party, sobriety buddy, have-no-social-life, die-of-boredom plan. With him."

  "Am I supposed to be flattered?" Dak's eyes sparkled.

  "Hey, I wouldn't want to be bored and a social pariah with anybody else." I smiled sweetly at him.

  He laughed. "I'll take it."

  "All I can say is with all the parties I'll be missing, my grades had better improve." I laughed with him.

  Chapter Seven

  Dakota

  After class, the weather had turned even colder, teetering between rain and snow. Some of the guys wanted to get together. Like we were suddenly buds. A couple of them were pretty cool. But what would we do? Go out for a beer? My fake ID was pretty much grounded along with my real one. We decided on pizza. I invited Morgan along. To my surprise, she accepted. But what the hell was she going to do on her own on a Saturday night, anyway? If only my damn racing pulse would get a clue she was hanging with us out of desperation and boredom and nothing more.

  As Morgan sat next to me, her perfume wafted over to me. It smelled like sex. And made me horny as hell. I couldn't shake my awareness of her even as she ignored me and flirted with the other guys.

  Any of them would love to have bedded her. Irrationally, that made me mad and protective.

  At one point, one guy got slid his arm around her shoulder. Shit, I knew that move. Next he'd try the accidental breast brush. Or put his hand on her knee.

  He leaned in to bend her ear. "Hey, babe, want to ditch this crowd and see a movie with me?"

  Yeah, the way he caressed the word "movie," sex was the first thing on his mind. A movie was just a prelude.

  I wasn't Morgan's abstinence buddy, but I jumped in without thinking, putting humor in my voice to cover my anger. "Lay off her and get your own sobriety buddy."

  "Shit, man!" He laughed, but his eyes were hard. "You think you own her now?"

  I balled my fist, almost aching for a fight.

  Morgan flashed me a look, warning me to butt out. Her eyes were snapping. She turned and gave him a megawatt smile. "Thanks, but it's Saturday night and I have sobriety duty with this one." She hitched her thumb at me and rested her hand on my shoulder.

  She sounded so sweet and flirtatious, the other guy looked almost placated.

  "Another time?"

  Damn, he wouldn't quit.

  "Maybe." Morgan laughed in a way that left room for hope. She could string a guy along indefinitely. I should know. She'd practiced on me. It was easy to see how the Double Deltsies got their reputation as man killers. Morgan exemplified their technique.

  She slid her hand down and rested it on my knee, squeezing it with the warning for me to cool it. All it did was give me a hard-on. She'd managed to defuse the tension, but not my irrational desire for her.

  We settled the bill and the party broke up. I held the door open for Morgan as we left the pizza place. Was I playing gentleman to impress her? Who the hell knows? I didn't want to analyze anything too closely.

  A blast of cold air swept in. Two guys stepped passed us.

  Morgan looked out, shivered, and pulled up her hood. "It's raining." She stepped out onto the sidewalk and nearly slid on her cute little ass, screaming as she almost went down. "Crap! It's not just raining. It's freezing rain!"

  I caught her by the elbow and pulled her into me until she was braced against my chest. There was an awkward moment when time stood still and I stared down into her wide eyes. It might have been my imagination, but I sure as hell thought I saw desire there. Like she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Her lips were moist and glossy and so damn kissable. It wouldn't be hard to kiss them, and kiss them hard.

  "The buses won't be running," she said.

  The spell was broken.

  I let her go. "You're right. We'll have to walk."

  She pulled away from me and took another tentative step, laughing as she slipped, and grabbed my arm to hold herself up, almost as if she was flirting with me.

  I stared down at her. "Are you trying to take me down with you?"

  She shook her head. "Trying to show you how crazy you are. We'll never make it up the hill. It's like an ice rink out here."

  "Like hell we won't." I grabbed her hand to pull her forward.

  She resisted.

  "Come on. Trust me. I'm steady on my feet." I gave her another tug. "Hold on to me and you'll be fine."

  I let go of her and took a step out to show her how steady I was. Not a slip in sight.

  "See?" I held my arms out. "No hands. No problem." I held my hand out to her. "We'll walk on the grass where we can. It's not frozen over yet. Once we get to the hill, there's a covered breezeway that runs through that big apartment complex. I know my way around there. From there, we can cut through the engineering labs and the science building. Then we'll be on Greek Row."

  She studied me. "You have it all figured out already? Done this before?"

  I just grinned and wrapped her arm in mine. "Come on."

  "What if the labs are locked?" She clutched me like I was a lifeline.

  "What if, what if. Would you rather spend the night on the street?" I pulled her gently forward. "One small step for Morgan. One giant step for womankind."

  "Shut up!" But she was smiling, and looking at me like a flirt. Giving me ideas I was better off not entertaining.

  "I didn't think you were such a wimp, Morgs." I inched us along the sidewalk until Morgan relaxed.

  "It's going to take us all night to get home at this pace."

  "Not if we run." I took off, running, pulling her with me while she fought to break free, gliding on the ice with her hand tucked in the crook of my arm.

  "Dak! No!" She stiffened.

  "Relax! I won't let you fall."

  "Famous last words!" She tried to pull free.

  "I'm not letting you go." I took off again. Run. Slide. Run. Slide.

  She squealed. She protested. "Let me go!"

  Still holding her hand, I got up to full speed and held her at arm's length. "You sure?" I grinned at her and loosened my grip, daring her to let go.

  She could pull away any time she wanted. I released her hand until our fingertips were barely touching.

  She grabbed my fingers and pulled close to me. "Bastard!" But she was laughing as we reached the edge of the park between downtown and the big apartment complex up the hill.

  I stopped abruptly. She slid into me. I caught her, holding her by both arms. There was a second when our eyes met and we had a real connection.

  As I lowered my head to kiss her, she looked away. "It's a maze up there."

  "One of my frat brothers lives in the apartments. I know my way through." My heart was pounding. Disaster averted.

  I led the way as we cut up the hill, through the apartment breezeway, and came out behind the engineering labs. I held my hand out to her. "We're back on asphalt. It's slick."

  She took my hand without hesitation. I walked to the back door, with Morgan clinging to me. "They never lock this door." I pulled it open for her.

  A blast of hot air blew out.

  "Toasty," Morgan said. The clang of the ancient heaters made her jump. "And scary."

  I laughed. "Perfect pre-Halloweekend atmosphere."

  "Don't remind me! The only Saturday Halloween of my college career and I'm on social probation." Morgan frowned and made a face. "This place should be condemned."

  "Yeah, but it's warm."

  "It's a maze," she said.

  "Good thing I left breadcrumbs last time I was here." I didn't drop her hand. And she didn't pull it
free.

  "Lead on, Hansel."

  "Whatever you say." I took off running, pulling her with me. We ran hand in hand, laughing as we ran around corners and past bare pipes. Past things that went bump in the night. Past the inner workings of the heat plant that generated the steam for the heated sidewalks around campus. By the time we reached the far side of the building, I was sweating.

  I paused at the door, reluctant to let go of the mood. "Fifty feet and the heated sidewalks start. Think they've turned them on?"

  "In our dreams." She looked at me with sparkling eyes. "What are you waiting for? You've taken me this far."

  I wanted to take her, period.

  "Do I detect a note of trust in your voice?"

  She smiled. "No, that's hero worship." She linked her arm through mine and clutched my bicep.

  Outside, the coating of ice was growing thicker and the heated sidewalks were off, as predicted. But we were up the hill and beneath tree cover as we hit the edge of Greek Row. It was just after eight, on the early side, but parties were gearing up, despite the bad weather. Guys were out, sliding down the roads and showing off.

  "The frat's just ahead." I hesitated. "Why don't you come in for a while? Warm up. Wait for the storm to pass."

  "This ice isn't going to melt until morning." She paused. "Are you inviting me to spend the night?" Her voice was soft, almost sorry, but it was hard to read her expression in the dark.

  I swallowed hard against my desire for her. "We have beer, obviously. And I have an excellent selection of T-shirts at your disposal for a shacker shirt."

  "Dak." She bit her lip. "As your sobriety buddy it's my duty to tell you that beer is off limits. Didn't you learn anything from class?"

  She looked so damn hot with her pink cheeks and nose.

  I leaned in close to her. "So come in and save me from myself."

  "Dak." Her cold breath curled skyward on a sigh.

  I knew from her tone what she was going to say before she said it. I waited for it anyway, feeling like a fool in the freezing rain.

  "I'm your sobriety buddy, not your fuck buddy." She looked away. "I'm not that kind of girl." She laughed softly.