But missing Abby is hell.
Getting through my lecture with Abby present is hard. When she didn’t show up the day after our argument― if it can be called that― or the day after that, I thought she’d dropped the class. My calls to her have gone unanswered. That’s my fault. I was childish and ignored her calls all of Sunday night. I miss her. Our phone conversations and texts had quickly become the best parts of my days and nights.
I was ready to chase her down after class today, but a few students stopped by my desk to ask questions. By the time I got through with them, Abby was gone. So, I’m waiting for her in the parking lot. She always passes the parking lot. Surveying the lot, I wish I knew her car.
“Hey, Mr. Marshall...Bryce.” The high-pitched laugh grates on my nerves.
Oh no.
Slowly, I turn around. “Hi, Ms. Carpenter.” Sharon Carpenter, the English professor beams at me. The thirty something woman has been trying to get me to go out with her for two years now.
“Call me Sharon.” She slaps my arm.
I hate it when she does that. My gaze drops to the spot she touched and my teeth clench. She’s worse than the female students who try tirelessly to get my attention every day. Considering that she’s older than most of my students, you’d think she’d know how to take a hint. I’m certain I’ve never given her any indication that I’m interested. The woman irritates me because I know her angle. She’s more interested in my status as the mayor’s son.
Still, I force out a smile. “Sharon. How are you?” My mother will turn over in her grave if I ever disrespect a woman.
“I’m good. I missed you at the pub yesterday.”
“Yeah, I had things to take care of.” A few of the staff usually go out for drinks at a nearby bar. I try to join them once in a while. I’ve been dodging the get together more lately, however. I’m always bombarded with questions about what the mayor has planned or with requests to meet him. Everyone has an agenda, except Abby. She’s a genuine soul. Why did I leave her the way I did? I’ve been drowning in regret for days.
“You’ll join us this evening, right?”
“I’m afraid, I can’t.”
“My, you’re keeping scarce.” She laughs again.
She laughs way too much. “Busy.” My eyes dart around the parking lot for any sign of Abby.
“Too busy to join me for dinner sometime? I make a mean pot roast.”
My eyes snap to her face. Well. Shit. This is the first time she’s ever been so bold by inviting me to her place. Usually, she just drops hints that she wants me to ask her out.
“I can’t.” What’s the best way to turn her down without hurting her feelings? “We’re colleagues,” is the best I can come up with. Very hypocritical since I’m seeing a student...who I almost had sex with on her couch. Who I very much still intended to have sex with. I blow out a breath, as images of Abby lying on her couch, moaning my name surfaces. Those memories have led to many cold showers and jacking off over the last few days.
Sharon’s smile dims. “I know but it’s just dinner.”
“I’d prefer to keep things professional.”
She sighs. “Bryce, I’ve been dropping hints for a while.”
I know. For two fucking years.
Maintaining my plastic smile, I shrug. “It just won’t work, Sharon.”
She rests a palm on my chest and leans closer. I frown. Jesus. She’s really getting touchy feely in the campus parking lot. I resist the urge to push her hand off of me. “We can keep things... just between us for now.”
A secret romance. Sorry, lady. I already have one of those going.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Look, Sharon…”
I catch movement in my periphery. Wide-eyed, I turn to see Abby gazing at Sharon and me. She has a pile of textbooks clutched to her chest. She’s a few feet away, but I see her expression crumble.
Horrified, I watch her duck her head and scurry off. She disappears into a white Toyota and starts the engine. She doesn’t even wait for the car to warm up before peeling out of the lot. Sharon and I standing close together with her hand on my chest looks bad.
“You were saying?” She bats her eyelashes.
“I have to go. It’s a no for dinner.”
Her smile drops, but I dive into my car before she says another word. Dialing Abby, I pray that she picks up. Straight to voicemail. She declined my call. With a growl, I toss the wretched phone, not caring where it lands.
When I get my hands on Abby again, I’m never going to let her go.
And she’s going to have to get over it, stop fucking fighting me, and let me in.
She will let me love her like she deserves.
Chapter Thirteen
Abby
I kick the tire of my car and hurl insults at the piece of crap metal. Of course, it would choose tonight to fail me. It’s only right for my miserable day to be topped off with car trouble. Granted, the car has been hurling warning signs at me all week, which I ignored. So, this is all my fault. Still, I take my anger out on the vehicle, giving the tire another kick. I miss the rubber part and hit the rim instead. My howl of pain echoes in the night as I hop around on one foot.
“Son of a bitch!”
Bending to rub my toes through my sneakers, I burst into laughter.
“This is just awesome.”
My laughter is bordering on hysterical at this point...okay, it is hysterical. I can’t stop. Soon, I feel the warm trail of tears streaming down my face. I haven’t had a good cry for a while. This was bound to happen. All of my anger and pain since Mom died bombards me because I didn’t deal with it properly when it happened. I’d played it tough, even as a kid. Then I think about Dad and how his crazy decisions have affected mine and Lucy’s lives. If that isn’t enough, I think about Bryce and how he’s apparently already moved on. He and that blonde looked pretty cozy today.
“I’m so stupid.”
I sniff and slide to the ground. Leaning against the car, I just sit there and allow the tears to flow. Surely, I’ll feel better afterwards. It’s freezing and snowing but I don’t care. I’ve got a few minutes to wallow in self-pity before I turn into a popsicle. There’s no one else in the diner’s lot so I have privacy.
Despite my heavy despair, I think about Lucy. She’ll be worried sick. Grabbing my phone from my coat pocket, I shoot her a text.
A: Car trouble. Going to Charlie’s for the night.
L: Ok. I told you to get the car checked out.
Yeah. She did. But that would mean dipping into the money Jake gave us, so I didn’t. I’m still insistent on not using Dad’s dirty money. But it seems I have no choice now.
A: Well, I’ll have to now. Don’t wait up. Love you.
L: Are you okay?
A: Yes...Mom.
L: (middle finger emoji) Night. Love you.
With that taken care of, I carry on with my tears and misery. I don’t even bother to call Charlie. She won’t hesitate to come and get me, neither will her father but I don’t want to see anyone at the moment. I’m not sure how many minutes tick by with me sitting in the snow on my ass crying. All I know is, certain body parts are getting numb.
A headlights shine in my direction and I sigh. My privacy has been interrupted by a late night diner. The vehicle with the bright ass lights draws closer, and I lift my hand to block the beams from my eyes. Footsteps approach rapidly, and I move to get up. Whoever it is doesn’t sound like they’re headed for the diner.
Before I can scramble to my feet, I hear, “Abby? Are you okay?” It’s Bryce’s voice ringing with alarm.
Hanging my head, I stifle a groan. This is just what I need, for Bryce, of all people to witness my breakdown. Dashing away my tears, I lie, “I’m fine.”
He drops to one knee beside me, and I try to hide my face. “What the hell are you doing down here? Are you hurt?”
“I said, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. Your shift ends at twelve, so I figured I
’d catch you. I saw your car...” He squints and leans closer. “You’re crying.”
“No…” With his headlights shining in this direction, there’s no hiding.
“Abby, what’s wrong? If you’re hurt, I need you to tell me―”
“I’m not hurt.” Not physically, anyway. I sniff and nod to the car. “The stupid thing won’t start.”
He’s gazing at me with confusion, as if he wants to ask if I’m on the ground bawling just because the car won’t start. Eyes moving over my face, he finally asks, “Are you sure that’s all?”
Feeling my lower lip quiver, I pull it between my teeth. “I’m cold.” I expect him to laugh at me. Being cold isn’t cause for tears. But I can’t tell him why I’m really crying. I’m already embarrassed enough.
Bryce released a slow breath. “Let’s get you warmed up.”
He helps me to my feet. “I need to get my things.”
He stands back and allows me to grab my handbag and books from my car. Silently, I follow him to his, gratefully sliding in when he opens the door. “I can check your car out if you like.”
“Don’t bother. I’ve tried everything I know, and I know a lot. I’ll just have to get it to the garage tomorrow.”
He nods and gives me one more concerned look before closing the door. The last thing I want is to be in an enclosed space with Bryce, but I’m in no position to turn down a ride.
“I’ll take you home,” he says.
“I wasn’t planning to go home. I was going to call a friend to come get me, and crash at her place for the night.”
“You could have called me.”
My derisive snort almost comes out, but I bite it back. As if I’d call him for help after seeing him with that woman. I say nothing, just turn to stare out the window. Bryce sighs and drives off. “What’s your friend’s address.”
I mumble Charlie’s address and go back to silence. I don’t brood for too long because I don’t want to seem ungrateful. “Thank you for the lift. It’s a good thing you came along.”
“You say it as if it’s a coincidence. I told you, I was looking for you.”
“I heard you the first time.”
I can feel him looking at me, and I start to squirm uneasily. The conversation that I know he wants to have isn’t one I’m in the mood for. I’m too emotionally fragile right now.
“Are you going to tell me why you were crying?”
“No.”
“Did it have anything to do with me?”
This time I do snort out loud. “Of course not.” My voice went a little higher than normal, and he grunts. I guess he knows I’m lying. Gritting my teeth, I cross my arms defensively. “I have other things going on in my life, Bryce.”
“Are we going to talk?”
“About what?” How he left me hanging in my driveway? Ignored my call? Flirted with some other woman?
“Clearly, you’re pissed at me. You have every right to be. But we need to talk so kindly put aside your sass for a few minutes.”
I round on him with a withering glare. “My sass?”
Staring straight ahead, he shrugs. I can still make out the smug grin on his profile. I want to slap the sexy smirk off his handsome face. Or kiss it off. I can’t believe I’m thinking about kissing him when I’m supposed to be mad at him. Ugh. I’m thoroughly disgusted with myself.
“We don’t need to talk about anything right now. I’m not in the…” I sit forward to peer through the windshield. “Hey, this isn’t Chief Traverse’s street.”
“No it isn’t. It’s my street.”
I gasp. “I’m not going to your place.”
“We’re already here.”
He turns into a driveway. The wrought iron gates are already opening. “This is basically kidnapping, you know that right? You’re kidnapping me, Bryce.”
“And you’re being dramatic.”
Slack-jawed, I stare at him. I can’t believe he brought me to his place. “Why you arrogant―”
“Why are you so worried about being alone with me, Abby. You enjoyed the last time we were alone, didn’t you?”
Mouth opening and closing, I struggle to find words. My face feels like it’s on fire. The rest of my body too. That’s mostly because of the memories he just conjured. My indignation dies down and I just feel...exhausted. “But then you just left…” I hate that my voice sounds so small and distressed.
I can’t make out his expression in the dark, but I hear him sigh long and hard. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. It wasn’t my proudest moment.”
We sit in silence for a while before he says, “So, I sort of kidnapped you. You can give me hell about it tomorrow. Please, just come inside. We don’t have to talk tonight if you don’t want to. You need to rest, you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks. That’s what every woman wants to hear.”
I can’t see him all that well, but I can imagine that he’s smiling. With a resigned sigh, I mutter, “Fine.”
Bryce’s place isn’t the typical bachelor pad. The contemporary design of the place looks, expertly done. The two-story house boasts an immaculate front lawn from what I glimpse in the dark during the short walk to the porch. The neighbors’ houses are all a decent distance away. Bryce seems to love his privacy.
“I’ll show you to a guest room.”
My heart jolts at the thought of entering any bedroom with him. “No need. I can crash on the couch.”
He frowns. “I won’t allow it. Come on.”
Reluctantly, I follow. The thought of a bed is appealing after the day I’ve had. The guest room turns out to be almost as big as my entire house. “Thank you.”
“Take a warm shower and join me in the kitchen.”
“I really wish you’d stop ordering me around.”
“Fine. Join me in the kitchen after your shower, pretty please.” He’s obviously fighting back a smile, and I scowl at him. “Everything you need is the bathroom.”
Glaring daggers at his back as he saunters out, I let out a sigh. The second he’s gone, I let out a growl and drop to the nearest armchair. I don’t want to join him anywhere right now but there’s no avoiding the talk we have to have. Maybe it’s best to get it out of the way.
My steps into the kitchen are tentative as my eyes move over everything. The state of the art appliances are a dream. They call to my inner chef. “Your kitchen is nice,” I note.
Bryce is standing beside the stove with his back turned. It looks like he took the time to change into more comfortable clothing while I was in the shower. Hearing me, he turns around. He goes still, his eyes moving over me from head to toe. Self-consciously, I hold the lapels of the white robe I found together. He gestures to a chair at the granite-top island.
“Thanks. Have a seat. I’m boiling water for hot chocolate. That, I can do without disaster.”
A smile tugs at my mouth. “Is that the extent of your cooking abilities?”
He folds his arms, and frowns. “I’m afraid so. Well, I can empty the sachet of hot chocolate into the mug without incident too, but that’s about it.”
I giggle. He always makes me laugh...even when I don’t want to.
“You do like hot chocolate right?”
“I love it.”
Bryce shoves his fingers through his hair and exhales. He seems nervous, and I can’t imagine why. “Good. Feel better?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder.
I nod. The warm shower revived me a little. “Sure.”
The whistle of the kettle pierces the silence that falls over the room. Bryce busies himself making hot chocolate, and I gaze through the sliding glass doors. There are a few outside lights on, allowing me to see the backyard. The little I can see shows that the backyard is just as nice as the front. “You must love it here. Your neighbors are nowhere in sight.”
“That’s one of the reasons why I chose this place.” He places a steaming cup of chocolate in front of me. “Here you are. This is about all I can make you without risk of poison
ing you.”
I smile. “Thanks. Surely, you’re exaggerating about how much you suck at cooking.”
He shakes his head, expression solemn. “I’m afraid not. I really do suck. I barely know how to turn on the stove.”
“How do you survive?”
He rubs the back of his neck and gives me a sheepish grin. “I pay someone to cook for me.”
“Of course.” I’d actually forgotten that he’s disgustingly wealthy. He’s just so down to earth, it’s easy to forget.
“The refrigerator is stocked with all sorts of read-made meals, if you’d like anything.”
“No, I couldn’t eat a thing right now.” It has nothing to do with the time. My metabolism is freakishly fast. I can scoff down anything at one a.m. without worrying about the calories. I just don’t have any appetite to speak of.
Palming the mug, I savor the feeling of the heat seeping into my palms. “This is good for tonight.”
Bryce is watching me, his brows furrowed and eyes troubled. “I know I said we don’t have to talk tonight but I can tell something is bothering you. And that’s bothering me.”
Blowing out a breath, I take a few sips of hot chocolate to buy a little time.
Chapter Fourteen
Abby
I don’t want to talk but maybe I should. Who else am I going to talk to? Certainly not my sister. I’ve been playing the strong older sister for so long, I can’t stop now. I can’t talk to Charlie either. I don’t want to burden her with my problems. Watching Bryce over the rim of my mug, I take in his concerned expression. I don’t want to burden him with my problems either.
As if reading my mind...or my expression, he says, “You can talk to me, Abby.”
“I know. I don’t usually share too much so it’s hard to get started.”
He scrubs a hand over his face and nods. “I get it.” He rests his arms on the counter and pins me with his sharp gaze. “Let me start then. I’m sorry about the way I behaved the other day.”
Staring into my mug, I lift my shoulders. “I guess I can understand why you were upset. I gave Jake hell about what he did after you left.” Eyes lifting to meet his, I add, softly, “He really is just a family friend. I wouldn’t do that... mess around with you if I had someone…”
The Professor Page 9
