by Jessa York
That was the crux. It would be way too easy for me to jump into Jake’s life. My mother had done that. How many times over the years had she warned me not to fall for a guy until I had my education under my belt? She preached weekly about how easy it was to get lost in a man’s hopes and dreams instead of your own.
“Yeah, sure,” I said, watching a smile spread across his face.
“You fell where?” Alex asked, his voice so high pitched my ears started to hurt.
Frowning, I rolled over on my stomach. “You heard me.”
“Oh, my, God,” he exclaimed, clasping his hands to his face. “Then that hot man came in to rescue you?” The back of his hand hit his forehead as he pretend-fainted, flopping onto his back on the bed beside me.
“It was slightly less exciting than that.” I shook my head at him while I poked his ribs.
“Doubtful, babe. You, naked and hurt, in distress. That hot piece of man bursting down the door to save your life. Ah,” he said dramatically, waving his arms around for full effect. “That my dear is the stuff of rom-coms.”
The crappy thing was that he hit the nail on the head. Having Jake come in to help me was all that. Not to mention kind of hilarious now that I thought back. What wasn’t as funny was the constant ache in my chest ever since Jake dropped me off. “It was a regular Cinderella moment,” I said sarcastically.
He flipped artfully to his stomach, staring right into my eyes. “So the big question remains—did you lose your v-card?” Alex started hitting the bed, creating a mock drumroll.
His excitement at the possibility of me no longer being a virgin made me laugh out loud while I hid my face in the comforter. “I knew it,” he hollered, jumping up to his feet on the bed, proceeding to bounce around me. “When I saw how you were looking at him like he was a fine fillet mignon you wanted to sink your teeth into—I just knew you were going to jump that man’s bones.”
Several more rounds of leaping around me later, he settled beside me. “Okay, now tell big daddy all about it,” he said, rolling me to my side. “How are you?”
The pure look of friendly concern in his eyes made my eyes all teary. “I’m good.”
“Did he treat you well? Or do I need to kick his ass?” His eyes narrowed on my face as his body stilled.
Just the thought of Alex showing up at Jake’s house to beat him up made me giggle. “Hey, don’t laugh. I could take that playboy on,” he said, shooting his hands out in some kind of karate moves he’d learned in fourth grade. His dad had insisted he was going to make a man out of him by sending Alex to martial arts. Alex went, complaining only once until he saw how cute his Sensei was. Sensei Mario never had a more loyal student.
“He was fine.” Reaching up, I pulled his weapons of mass destruction down to a safer level. “Would you stop?”
“Nope, I’m calling in the big guns,” he said, hurtling out of bed like it was on fire. When he reached his desk, he flipped open the laptop. Soon I heard the familiar ring of a video call.
“Alex, no,” I whispered, sitting up on my knees in bed. “It’s like one in the morning in London. Holly’s going to kill you. Or worse, Mr. Marshall will.”
He flicked his hand at me completely unconcerned. “Meh, I’ll have a fifteen hour head start if that happens.”
“Well then I’ll kill you.”
“Doubtful.”
Both our heads swung to the laptop when the incessant, robotic ringing finally stopped. “Hello?” Holly’s sleepy voice sounded over the speakers of the computer.
“Girl, you need to get your lazy butt out of bed. Our little Paige has some news.”
“Is everyone okay?” she mumbled from Alex’s dark screen.
“Who is it?” We heard the deep rumble of a man’s voice in the background.
“It’s Alex,” Holly said as we heard the rustling of covers.
“It’s two in the morning, come back to bed.”
“They don’t call this late for no reason,” Holly scolded her bedmate.
“Bullshit,” he said. “Last week Alex called to ask about your skin. At four in the morning.”
“He was revising my skincare regime. Do you want me to look old before my time?” she snapped back.
“I’m getting old before my time with all of these late-night calls.”
Holly huffed before we heard the squeak of a door opening, then closing. “Sorry, what’s going on?” she asked, turning on a light. Her face fell in and out of view as she moved.
“Sit down, missy. Paige has some fabulous news.”
“One second,” Holly yawned, settling into an oversized chair. “Okay, done.”
Alex looked at me, tipping his head. “Well? Tell her,” he bossed, pointing his finger at me. I sat there with my mouth open, unable to form words. “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” he said, spinning back to the laptop. “Paige traded in her v-card for an s-card. Meaning,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “a sex card.”
“What?” Holly full on screamed, dropping her phone on the floor with a heck of a rattle. “Oops, sorry,” Holly said, letting out a nervous giggle. Sitting back, she asked, “Who, where, and how?”
Alex was all too willing to pipe in as he carried the laptop to his bed. “A super hot guy at the club last night was checking her out in a big way. And by the look on Paige’s face I’d say he likely didn’t have to try all that hard to steal her virtue.”
They both erupted in laughter until Holly’s eyes wandered up. We all heard a loud, “Jesus,” in the background before what sounded like a door slamming. That made even me laugh.
“Poor Mr. Marshall. You’ll have to invest in a good pair of earplugs for him soon,” Alex suggested as we composed ourselves.
“Would you stop calling him Mr. Marshall? He’s not our teacher anymore,” Holly said, covering herself up with a blanket. A slight hint of irritation in her tone.
“Lady, I called him Mr. Marshall for months. A person can’t just quit that,” Alex exclaimed, looking at his nails. I couldn’t blame him. Truth be told, I found it difficult to call Mr. Marshall by his given name, too. He’d been our teacher. Not for long, but still—it would take some getting used to.
“Don’t be stupid, he’s only four years older than us. Calling him Evan should feel more natural than calling him, ‘Mister’,” Holly said, stretching with her yawn this time.
“You’re tired, we should let you go,” I said, hoping to end this conversation before someone said something they couldn’t take back.
“First tell us—how was it?” she said, a small smile on her lips.
“It was really nice. He was—fun,” I answered, feeling teary again because that was the best descriptive word I could think of for him. Being around Jake was so comfortable. Natural. Like we’d known each other for years.
His sense of humor killed me. Whenever I made him laugh it fueled something inside of me to try harder to do it again. I loved that sound.
“I’m so happy for you, Paige. I wish I was there to squeeze you. Are you going to see him again?” she asked, her voice giddy, filled with hope.
Building up my defenses, I said, “School starts next week.”
Alex threw his head and arms back, sliding down dramatically off the bed. “School, school, school. Is there anything else you can concentrate on?” He twisted around as he knelt on the floor, slapping the bed with his arms. “Like Mr. Studly? Why don’t you give him a chance at least?”
My shoulders sunk as my stomach twisted. “I have my plans. You know that.” It was true. I’d had my life planned and sorted for years now. Nowhere in my calendar had I made exceptions for hot, funny men who made me laugh and let me cheat at board games.
My throat was dry as I swallowed over the lump situated there.
“Okay you guys, I better go. We can talk more tomorrow. I have early rehearsal for that play I just got in. Night,” Holly said through another huge yawn. “Congrats, honey. I really wish I could be there right now with you, though.”
Alex said his goodbyes then I wandered off to change.
13
Paige
The terrible noise of my alarm sounded, waking me from a dead sleep. I’d been setting it for the last week to get back in the swing of things before school started. Today my life was once again all about books, classes, and exams.
That thought made me smile. Sighing, I couldn’t wait to start my first year at the university. Finally getting to start my life outside of high school was something I had waited for all my life. Four or five years of hard work and then I could hopefully find a good paying job so Mom wouldn’t have to work as hard as she did.
Like clockwork, the memory of what I’d done a week ago came flooding back into my brain. Alone in my bed I imagined Jake there beside me, hard and ready to take me again. As my hands traveled to my breasts I moaned, feeling how incredibly hard my nipples already were. Pretending my hands were Jake’s, I slid them underneath the thin material of my nightie, grabbing my heavy breasts just like he did.
Teasing my nipples, I started to feel a wetness between my legs. My fingers journeyed downward until I found what I needed. Rubbing myself there, I also kept one hand on my nipple, squeezing it. Like Jake had done.
Remembering how his mouth felt on my chest was like sweet torture. I was glad to have experienced it but now that I knew how it felt I only wanted more. Instead of quenching a thirst, he’d fueled a blazing fire inside of me that I didn’t know how to extinguish.
My mind flashed back to when we were in the shower, the soap intensifying the thrill of his touch—everywhere. When neither of us could stand it anymore, he lifted me up, pushing me against the steamy tile wall. Naturally my legs circled around his waist as his lips kissed me relentlessly.
Pulling his face back for one moment, he looked at me with lust filled eyes. When I reached down to touch his cock he didn’t hesitate to press inside. Oh God it had felt so amazing.
As I rubbed my clit faster, sparks began to appear behind my eyelids. I came hard, my body pulsing over and over again beneath my hand.
When my eyes finally opened, a familiar wave of regret washed over me when I looked over to an otherwise empty bed.
“Mija, I don’t know why you’re up so early when your first class isn’t for hours,” my mother said, buttering the toast. The apron of her uniform swung as she spun toward the table, plate in hand.
“Mom, I can do that myself. You cater to people all day long as it is. And my first class starts in two hours. I need to find a parking spot and make sure I know where to go,” I said, reaching for the jam.
She took the jar away from me, instead doing it herself in a huff. “First of all, Mr. and Mrs. Richter can butter their own toast.” Mom had been working for the Richters since I was very young. I used to go over with her every day. They were nice people. Now that I look back it was more than generous of them to allow Mom to bring me.
If I wasn’t with her, there was always an aunt or cousin’s house to hang out at. My first choice was always the Richter’s house. Not only to be with my mom but because their son was also there.
He was older than me but he’d treated me like gold. After he left for boarding school—breaking my tiny heart—I pretty much stopped going over anymore. It was just a stupid crush that was in no way reciprocated. Still, my pride took a hit.
“Second of all, you’ve been at the university at least three times since last week.” Mom slid the plate in front of me.
I looked up at her. “I have not.” I scoffed, shaking my head as I took a bite.
“Four?”
“Very funny.” I glared at her because in actuality I’d gone to the university every day last week to make sure I had my schedule down pat. One could never be too prepared.
Her eyes surveyed my leg that I had outstretched. “How’s the foot?”
Not meeting her gaze I replied, “Fine.” That was a lie.
I could hear her steady, “Hmm,” as I continued to ignore her. “Getting better or worse?”
My mother had enough to worry about. “Better. I’m fine.” The stupid thing was even more swollen today than yesterday. I needed a constant stream of ibuprofen just to manage the pain.
“You need money for lunch?” she asked, drumming her fingers on the table while she watched me eat.
“Nah, I’ll bring a sandwich,” I said, not wanting to take money from her—money that she didn’t have.
“Nope,” she announced, springing from her chair. “First day, you should go out. Make some friends. Meet new people.” Digging in her purse, she pulled out a ten dollar bill.
Shaking my head, I set my breakfast down. “I can sit at any of the places on campus and eat a brown bag lunch.”
“Today,” she said, using her don’t mess with mother voice, “you buy. Like the other kids.”
Knowing when to give in, I accepted the money. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You need any more books?” she asked, slipping the decade old purse onto her arm. It was almost like one of the family after all this time.
“Uh, not that I know of. I think I bought everything I need for now.” Or at least I prayed none of the professors would surprise us with another book list. What I’d paid for in books probably equaled the cost of two classes.
She turned around, heading for the door. “All right but if something comes up we can always try asking your father.”
My appetite flew out the window. Dropping my half-eaten toast on my plate, I said, “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“He can chip in. You should try asking.” Opening the door in a hurry she raced out. Yeah, he should help pay. Over the last fifteen years he should have helped pay for a lot of stuff.
What Mom didn’t know was I’d already asked.
14
Paige
“I’ll meet you back here for lunch?” Alex said, crumpling up the paper from his donut.
“Mmm, hmm,” I said, chewing the last bite of mine, washing it down with the coffee in my to-go mug.
He swung his backpack onto his shoulder before pivoting to leave for his own class across campus. “Take care. You’ve got this,” he said before being swallowed up in the hordes of students in the hallway.
I smiled at him but inside I was screaming for help. Overwhelmed didn’t even come close to what I was feeling right now. My first class, Psych 100, had been daunting. Our professor hadn’t stopped talking the entire time. It made note taking nearly impossible.
The pain in my wrist was nothing compared to what my ankle felt like. Looking down at it confirmed exactly what I’d thought. The swelling had doubled since this morning. Crap. I still had two more classes today. At least Alex had been kind enough to carry my books here for me.
Standing up, I grabbed my backpack, limping off to the next lecture hall.
“Anyone sitting here?” a cute redhead asked as she chomped into an apple, pointing to the empty desk beside me.
Shaking my head, I replied, “No, go ahead.” Her hair was deep auburn with a beautiful wave to it. I’d bet it was natural. “I love your hair, by the way.”
She giggled, pulling the elastic off her wrist. “Thanks, but it’s a serious pain in my ass.” With that, she left the apple in her mouth as she swooped up her fiery mane into a floppy top knot. Dumping her bag on the desktop, she pulled out a textbook. “Could they have made a heavier book?”
“Probably.” I laughed, noticing how perfect her teeth were. Based on her movie star smile, I guessed she either came from money or was blessed with superior genes. Her attire was casual—almost too much so. But then again, I was in jean shorts, too.
“I’m George,” she said, sticking out her hand. “Short for Georgia.”
Catching it in mine, I said, “Paige.”
She smiled her blinding grin at me. “Cute name. Well, Paige, I may not be here tomorrow. Ma
ths are not my strong suit,” she said, with a hint of an accent—Southern maybe? I couldn’t be sure.
“Yeah, tell me about it. Not one of mine, either,” I said, sympathetically.
“The two of us will just have to figure it out together.” She giggled again, her eyes catching on something behind me. “Or maybe we can just let our professor have his way with us and save some study time.” Her mouth opened, the smile draining off her face being replaced by a very serious look.
“My friend told me he was hot but I didn’t believe her. What are the chances of a Calculus professor looking like that?” she whispered, still not taking her eyes off whomever she was watching.
“You’re terrible.” I laughed, testing out my pen to make sure it worked.
“Oh sugar, wait until you get a gander of all that,” she said, placing her hand over her mouth as she turned back around in her chair. Bumping my shoulder with hers as our professor walked past us, I rolled my eyes.
A familiar scent wafted behind him when he strode down the steps beside me. Where had I smelled that before? My eyes drifted up his suit pants to—
“Would you look at that fine behind,” George said, in a low voice, beating me to it.
He was carrying his jacket, draped over one arm, books in the other. Slithering my vision upwards to his very broad shoulders, I noticed the back of his neck. My heart came to a halt as my stomach turned to knots. It couldn’t be.
Was it?
“Hello, class,” he said, dumping his books on a table beside the lectern. “I’m Professor Richter. I’ll be teaching Calculus 100—”
That was all I heard before the room began spinning. Closing my eyes, I told myself I’d just imagined it. Jake couldn’t possibly be standing at the front of the class right now, ready to instruct us on the ins and outs of Calculus.