“My fault. I wasn’t paying...” the familiar voice trails off. “Brooklyn.”
I look up into a pair of light green eyes, and my heart races. “Jaxon.”
“I should probably insist you call me Mr. Duran.” He shakes his head. “But I’m really not that much older than you guys, though sometimes I feel ancient.”
I laugh. “Whatever. You’re, what, twenty-one? Twenty-two?”
“I just turned twenty-two,” he confirms.
So, barely two years older than me, because I turn twenty in October. “See, not that much older.”
“Too old for you.”
I’m not sure if he’s saying it out loud to remind me or himself, but it doesn’t matter. I know I’m not too young for him. But I also know that he won’t ever give me the time of day as long as he believes I’m seventeen. Maybe after this mission, after he learns that I’m not a student. But what would it matter then? I’ll be leaving for a new assignment and he will be here.
He rubs the back of his head with his hand. “What are you doing over here anyway? Aren’t these the boy dorms?”
“I’m visiting a friend.” I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to know why I’m really over here. I came to see Killian and I definitely have a lot more than friendship on my mind. Well, no, that’s not true. I do want to be friends with Killian. I just also really enjoy the other stuff that comes along with our friendship, like sex.
“Killian?” he asks.
I nod in confirmation.
He frowns, and I can see the disappointment on his face. For some reason, I really hate that he’s disappointed in me.
“You deserve better, Brooklyn.”
Hearing him say that makes my heart skip a beat. “If you knew me, you wouldn’t say that.”
“He’s just using you for sex.” Jaxon puts his hand on my arm gently. “Trust me, you do deserve better.”
I take a step back. “Maybe I’m using him for sex. You should probably have this conversation with him, not me.”
He shakes his head, like he doesn’t believe me.
“You thought I came to Spy School a virgin? You’re sadly mistaken. I know exactly what it means to be a female agent at Spy School. Sometimes you have to use your body to get what you need. I learned that very early in life.” I’m nearly shouting at him now. “So, don’t you tell me a damned thing about what you think I deserve, because I know I deserve nothing.”
I storm past him, ignoring him when he calls out my name. I am furious and sad all at the same time. What right does Jaxon Duran have to say something like that to me? He doesn’t even know me. And if he did, he’d know that Killian wasn’t using me.
I think about Jules in Paris. I was with him almost every day for two months, and I don’t even miss him. What does that say about me?
I don’t do attachments.
I don’t do relationships.
And I definitely don’t like it when somebody tells me what they think I deserve.
I push open Killian’s door, slamming it shut behind me.
He looks up at me from his bed. “What has your panties in a twist?”
I glare at him, then I stomp over to him, pushing him back onto his bed. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
And so, he does.
No attachments.
I stay in Killian’s dorm just long enough for my legs to stop shaking.
Killian was right in saying that he usually lasts longer. He’s quite good at giving orgasms. But I also just like Killian in general, and I’m worried that I’m going to get attached to him. That’s the very last thing I need.
“Come on, stay.” He pouts, and I almost find his pout sexy. Though, that may be because he’s completely naked on the bed while he’s pouting.
“I can’t.” I never ‘stay’ after sex. I don’t know why, but since my first boyfriend, I’ve never been able to stay and cuddle after sex. Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl.
“You can’t always run from me.”
I smirk. “Watch me.”
“You should be my girlfriend.”
I shake my head. “Uh, no. I shouldn’t.”
He sits up. “Seriously, Brooklyn. We work well together.”
I put my had on the door handle and turn to him. “Killian, you’re hot. But just because you can make me come multiple times during sex doesn’t mean we work well together. It just means we have good sexual chemistry.”
He just grins, leaning back on the bed. “I’ll just have to convince you then.”
Ha.
Good luck with that.
If I didn’t know he was a player, and if I didn’t think he was just asking me to be his girlfriend because he thinks that’s what I want to hear, I would run far away from him. But even though I only met Killian yesterday, I already know that he’s a lot like me. He doesn’t do commitment.
As I walk out of Killian’s door, I cringe when I see Jaxon Duran standing in the hallway, talking to another student. He spots me and frowns disapprovingly.
Dang it, why does Jaxon make me feel bad for doing something that I shouldn’t feel guilty about? It’s just sex. Good sex. And the release makes me feel better. I’m not sure I would survive this assignment without it. And I definitely wouldn’t survive him without Killian.
I walk past him, planning to ignore him, but then I hear him call the student Jesse. I stop and turn around to face them.
“Jesse Adams?” I ask.
The black-haired boy nods.
Score.
“I was looking for you.” I push my hair behind my ear. The next part, the lie, comes out easily. “Mr. Smith said you can help me with my French. I struggle a lot.”
I’d done a little research on Jesse and found out that he is fluent in French. He spent a lot of time there growing up. His mom is American and his dad is French, so they split the time between the two countries.
I can see that he’s about to tell me that he can’t help, but I am desperate—not for him to tutor me, but I need to get to know this boy. I need to know if I can cross him off my suspect list.
“Please.” I take a step closer, putting my hand on his arm. “I’m not sure I’ll pass if I don’t get your help. I will do anything.”
Jesse rolls his eyes and I can tell he’s about to decline again.
“If you help Brooklyn, I will talk to Mr. Brown about giving you extra credit,” Jaxon cuts in.
That must be the magic words, because Jesse falters.
I guess I found his kryptonite—math.
“I can help you in math, too,” I offer.
Jesse nods. “Fine. Be in my dorm at eight tonight. Don’t be late or I won’t let you in.”
He turns and storms off in the other direction.
Yikes.
Jesse Adams is clearly going to be hard to get along with. But... I have to get to know him. It’s important.
I turn to Jaxon, who is looking at me, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Thanks for that,” I say, pointing the direction that Jesse went.
“Not a problem.” He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Why did you lie?”
I try to play it cool, but my heart is racing. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t really need help in French, so why did you ask Jesse for help?”
How did he know I’m lying?
I’m a good liar—a great liar, actually. I try not to think of it as ‘lying,’ but as ‘acting.’ But nobody can ever tell when I’m lying, not even my own parents. How does a guy I’ve had less than a handful of conversations with, and have known less than a day, know that I am lying?
“Maybe I just want an excuse to get Jesse alone.” I grin, knowing that the topic of sex makes Jaxon Duran very uncomfortable.
“I will figure out why you’re lying.”
“Good luck.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “I see the girl you try to portray, but you are not her. You try to keep everybody at arm’s length. But someday
, somebody is going to come along and you won’t be able to push them away. What are you going to do then?”
I just roll my eyes. “Do you have to fix everybody? Or are you just trying to fix me because you know you can’t have sex with me, and fixing me is the next best thing?”
He doesn’t respond, and I wonder if I’ve hit a nerve. I think that I’m right. I think Jaxon Duran is more attracted to me then he would ever let on. I think he feels guilty for it, because he thinks it’s wrong. And dang it, I feel bad messing with him now. He’s obviously struggling with it. But there is something so satisfying about making his face turn slightly pink.
“I appreciate you help,” I tell him, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.
“You weren’t in Killian’s room very long.”
I shrug, not bothering to say anything.
I was in there long enough.
“Just be careful, okay. You’re a smart girl, and I heard how well you did in training. Don’t throw everything away on a boy,” he says.
If only he knew how ironic his statement is. If only he knew that I’m not really a student. I’ve never wanted to blow my cover before, but I want to blow it with Jaxon. I want to tell him the truth. But I can’t. Instead, I just offer him a smile.
“Don’t worry, Jaxon. I’ve got this.”
I say goodbye to him, and then I head off toward my room to hang out until eight tonight. I look back before I go around the corner and see that Jaxon is still standing there, watching me leave.
I can’t quite figure him out. But I do know that I like him more than I probably should.
No attachments. No commitments. I repeat it like a mantra.
Tutoring.
I’m anxious as I head toward Jesse’s room. In my gut, I just don’t think that he’s the one in the school that I’m looking for. If Jesse was truly a spy for the bad guys, I think he would have to be more sociable. It’s easier to get people to spill their secrets if you become friends with them. Still, I have to know. Hendrix seems to think Jesse is the one in the school who acts ‘shady.’
I get to his door at 7:57. I decided to come a little early, just in case. I don’t want him to turn me away for being ‘late.’ I lift my hand to knock on the door and it swings open before my knuckle can make contact with the wood.
Jesse motions me to enter the room, so I walk inside, surveying his room.
He doesn’t have a lot of belongings—a few suitcases that aren’t yet unpacked. He doesn’t have any pictures out, at all. And other than the laptop that is sitting on his bed with the lid shut, there is nothing in this room that belongs to him.
It looks a lot like my room, actually.
I know I can’t judge him on his room alone. I guarantee that a lot of students here are just like him... just like me.
I turn to Jesse as he shuts the door. He looks a little apprehensive and anxious. His eyes don’t quite reach mine at first, but it just gives me more time to study him, so I don’t mind.
Jesse is kind of cute, in a weird, brooding kind of way. Despite his black hair, his skin is pale, like he spent his entire summer indoors. But his eyes... they’re so blue they almost look aqua. They’re gorgeous.
I wonder what he thinks when he looks at me—dirty-blonde hair, pale brown eyes, and tanned skin, but only because I spent a lot of time outdoors this summer. But then he meets my gaze and his eyes turn cold. He doesn’t want me here, that much is very obvious. I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t like for anybody to invade my personal space either.
“We can do this in my room.” I point toward his door. “I mean, I get it if you don’t want me to touch your stuff.”
He rubs his hands together in front of him, then nods. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s do that.”
Maybe that’s it. Maybe he just simply doesn’t like people to touch him or his things. Maybe that is why he’s a loner.
He walks out the door first, and I am careful not to touch anything on the way out. If he really doesn’t like people in his space, touching his things, I don’t want to set off his anxiety. Once his door is shut and locked, he motions me to lead the way.
On the way to my room, Jesse doesn’t say one word, but neither do I. I’m not sure what I can say right now. I just want to give Jesse time to process whatever it is he’s thinking so hard about, and I also just want to think after my conversation with Jaxon earlier.
Jaxon can get under my skin like nobody else. I think that’s why I am so scared to get close to him.
Uh, I am not going to think about him. Not tonight. Not anymore.
I open my door, walking inside.
Jesse actually smirks when he sees my room. It’s probably the closest thing I’m going to get to a smile from him.
“You haven’t unpacked either.” He walks around my room. “And no pictures.”
I shrug. “Well, I hate my family, so I’d rather not see them on the wall and be reminded that they exist.”
I don’t know why I told him something so personal. It actually shocks me. But then I remember, if I’m going to get him to open up to me, I have to open up to him. I know that’s not why I said what I did, but I try and convince myself it is.
He kicks his shoes off and takes a seat on my bed. He makes himself comfortable and even leans back.
Well, he definitely doesn’t have a problem touching my stuff.
I scoot onto the bed beside him.
“Do you speak any languages other than English?”
I nod. “I’m fluent in Italian.”
He grins. “Nice. You already know two Latin languages, so learning a third won’t be that hard. I find it’s easy to learn a language when they use the same alphabet as us.”
He is right about that. I was young when we first moved to Italy, so learning a second language was fairly easy, especially since my family only spoke Italian at home for the first year we lived there. In my studies, I would do lessons in both English and Italian. But I have such a hard time learning French and I don’t know why. I feel like they pronounce things so weird.
“Easy for you to say. You already know French.” I stick my tongue out at him, and he laughs.
Even though I don’t actually need tutoring, maybe some good will come out of him helping me with French—like, maybe I will actually learn the language.
Jesse spends about an hour in my room, helping me. After that, he gets up to leave. When he gets to the door, he pauses, and turns to look at me.
“Hey, Brooklyn?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for saying we could study in here. I don’t really like people touching my things. It’s nothing against you. You seem kinda cool. I actually like you.” He grins, shaking his head, almost like he can’t believe he just said that himself. I can’t believe it, either.
“Be careful saying that, somebody might hear you and revoke your loner status,” I joke.
He shrugs. “Maybe having a friend wouldn’t be so bad.”
He turns and leaves my room before I can respond. I kind of can’t believe he just said that, but I’m so glad he did.
Jesse and I are definitely going to be friends.
Midnight drills.
I sit up in my bed. There are alarms blaring and my heart is racing.
What the heck is going on?
Then I remember—midnight drills.
Seeing as I didn’t actually study at Spy School, I got to miss out on them, but I know what they are, from talking to other Spy School agents. They wake you up in the middle of the night and force you to come downstairs and do pushups.
I contemplate just staying in bed. What’s the worst that can happen? But then I remember a conversation I had with a guy from Spy School. He and I spent all day just following this girl around, but she spent eight hours at the same place. Not having anything else to do, we just talked. And he told me what coming to school here was like. When he told me about the midnight drills, I told him I would just skip them, and he told me that he did that one time. They th
en forced him to get up at four o’clock on a Saturday morning to run a marathon. He said he never skipped midnight drills after that.
Uh. I really don’t want to run a marathon this weekend. I have to focus on my mission, and that would take time away from it.
I groan, pushing the covers off, and I head downstairs. There is a crowd of people walking down. The night owls definitely look more awake, but I’m exhausted. I don’t do late nights, not unless I am forced to.
Once everybody is downstairs, minus a few stragglers, I notice Jasmine French at the front of the room, and Jaxon is standing beside her. She is laughing at something he said. And I feel sick to my stomach.
Oh my gosh. Am I jealous?
Jasmine French is a little older, maybe in her mid-twenties, but she’s gorgeous in every sense of the word. She looks like a supermodel. And if she is who I have to compete with to win Jaxon’s affections, I am screwed.
“Drop and give me one hundred,” Jasmine yells.
Around me, everybody drops to the ground and starts doing pushups, so I do the same. I notice that the freshmen are struggling a lot, but most everybody else is doing good. I spot Ellie out of the corner of my eye. She has sweat dripping down her face and her arms are shaking. I feel kind of bad for her.
I have always been athletic. My parents had me running when I was just a kid. I remember my tutor would take me to the track and she would make me run in circles until I was exhausted. As I got older, I had to start lifting weights and I did MMA. That hard work paid off. I mean, look at me now. Doing one hundred pushups is nothing.
I am one of the first ones done. Everybody starts heading back to their dorms, so I do as well. On the way up the stairs, Luke runs up beside me.
“Hey, Gorgeous,” he says.
I laugh. “It’s way too early for you to be flirting with me.”
“You like it.” He wiggles his brows.
“Maybe, but maybe not.” I shrug my shoulders at him. “I guess you’ll never know.”
“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the gym with me again, early tomorrow.” He stops when we reach the tops of the stairs. “I can help you stretch.”
The Undercover Life (Spy Academy Book 1) Page 4
