The car—a very nice BMW—was parked out back. He held her door and she slid onto the soft leather seat. The entire car smelled like him, sophisticated and delicious. Jesus, what was happening to her?
Alec climbed in behind the wheel and the engine purred to life. His hands flexed over the wheel and he hesitated. She chanced a glance in his direction. That was a mistake.
Their eyes locked under the dim shadows of the skylight and something broke inside of her. She wasn’t sure who initiated it. She only knew they met somewhere in the middle, his soft lips brushing over hers, strong hands running through her hair.
She twisted in her seat and pulled closer, moaning into his mouth. Waves of excitement burst within her chest causing her to tremble. His tongue pressed over hers and she tasted him. He tasted spectacular. She sifted her fingers through his hair and he moaned into her mouth as she gave the silky strands a little tug. Holy hell, the man could kiss.
Her fingers traveled down the sharp stubble of his jaw and fit in the collar of his shirt. Hot skin pressed against her fingertips. His hands roamed down her back and pulled her tighter. And he jerked away.
She blinked into the darkness as he stared straight ahead. The car was getting warm. Her fingers went to her bruised lips and she was amazed at the desire swirling in her stomach. Where had it come from? It had been years since she felt anything close to that. She almost didn’t recognize it for what it was.
“That can’t happen again,” he said sharply and she recoiled at his tone.
Lowering herself into the seat she quietly buckled her seatbelt. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s my fault. I know better than to kiss a student.”
For some reason his words hurt. They felt personal even though he generalized his excuse. Maybe that was it. He usually made her feel so visible, not just a girl, but Sheilagh. Lumping her in a category with every other student was a step out of the neat, individualized box he’d once put her in, tossing her into a pile of generalizations. She shrunk into her seat.
Alec backed out of the driveway and she gave him the address to her place. He frowned.
“If you turn onto—”
“I’m familiar with it.”
Realizing he didn’t want to talk, she silently stared out the window as he drove her home. He pulled up to her apartment a few minutes later and she didn’t know how to say goodbye.
“Thanks for giving me a ride home.”
He gave but one nod, and she reached for the door. “Sheilagh?”
“Yeah?”
“Try not to take out your neighbor with a bat.”
She frowned and got out of the car. He pulled away before she even made it inside. When she entered her apartment, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to cry or eat a pint of ice cream.
She did neither. She showered and went to bed. When she couldn’t sleep she waited for the clock to pass two. Once it did, she reached for her phone and dialed.
“O’Malley’s Bar and Grill.”
“Hey.”
“Sheilagh?”
“Yeah.”
Her brother’s voice was exactly what she needed in that moment. “How’s college life, love?”
“I wanna come home.”
The line was silent and then Kelly’s voice was grave. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I just don’t fit in here.”
“You need to give it a chance, Shei.”
“It’s been almost eight months. I’ve given it a chance.”
“Give it a longer one.”
“Kelly, you don’t know what it’s like. Nothing is working out the way I planned.”
“Then stop planning and just go with it.”
She shut her eyes. “I don’t know how.”
“Try, Sheilagh. You have to try to make it work. You need this.”
A tear slipped past her lashes. She missed everything, her home, her family, the predictability of her life. “Will you guys come visit?”
“It isn’t that easy with the baby.”
“How is Nate?” Her newest nephew was a miracle baby. Kelly and his wife had faced some complications and once Nathanial was on his way he’d decided to pop in early. He was almost a year old, but because he was premature, he still required a lot more care than a typical child.
“He’s great. He’s climbing his percentiles and blowing our minds every day.”
“I miss him.”
“Speaking of babies—”
“Who’s pregnant?”
“Kate!”
“Shut up!” Her cheeks squeezed with a smile. Kate was her eldest sibling. She already had Frankie, Skylar, Hannah, and Michael but she’d said she wanted at least one more before she hung up her maternity bras for good.
“Due in September.”
“Oh, I’m going to miss the birth. See, this is why I should come home. I could just as easily commute to a college near us.”
“No. Kate will have another C-section. It’s probably already scheduled. You can make arrangements to come home for it. It isn’t a reason to transfer. Now, tell me what happened.”
She pursed her lips. “I kissed my professor.”
“What?”
“Well, he isn’t really my professor anymore.”
“Did he lose his job for fucking around with students? Because he should.”
“No. I dropped his class a couple weeks ago.”
“Why? Did he push you into—”
“No, Kelly, Jesus. I told you, I kissed him. I dropped his class because it was too hard.”
“Bullshit. This guy better not be playing games with you.” She could hear Kelly cleaning in the background, putting chairs up throughout the bar, something she’d done a number of times.
“He’s not.” She didn’t know how she knew that, but she was certain. “He’s a nice guy.”
The line was quiet. The sound of chairs being stacked was interrupted by her brother’s huff and she imagined him dropping into a seat. “Isn’t that frowned upon?”
“I’m not exactly sure what the rules are, but I think it isn’t something the university welcomes.”
“Aren’t there other people you could kiss? If this is some attempt to get thrown out—”
She rolled her eyes. “Kelly, if I don’t want a D on my transcript, do you think I’d be okay with expulsion? I’m not stupid.”
“True.”
“Besides, I don’t think it’s going to happen again.”
“Why?”
“He seemed pretty upset with himself afterward.”
“He should be.”
“Oh, will you stop it! Since when are you such a prude?”
“Since the professor’s trying to diddle Ginger.”
“I should have never told you.”
“Is this part of the reason you want to come home?”
Maybe. “No.”
He sighed. “Shei, you can do this college thing. I know you can. Just give it a while longer. Enroll for the fall and if you still don’t want to go back in August we’ll talk about it then.”
That was easy for him to say. Kelly never left Center County. She should have called Braydon. He’d left home to go to college. He’d probably be more sympathetic to what she was going through, but it was too late to call him now.
She asked Kelly about her nieces and nephews and he caught her up on who was walking, who was getting potty trained and who was talking. They were all getting so big. Spring break was only a few weeks away and she’d be seeing them soon.
When she got off the phone she was tired. She turned on the television and settled into bed. As she flipped through the channels there was a knock on her wall. “Keep it down. It’s two-thirty in the morning!”
She elbowed the wall—hard—and winced. “Blow me, Poindexter!”
“It’s Wesley!”
Chapter Five
Alec left campus and drove directly home. He was late, but he couldn’t help it. A few of his students stayed after class and their debate ha
d turned into an impromptu study session. He’d gotten caught up in answering questions and lost track of the time.
When his BMW pulled into the driveway his son’s car was already there. Alec entered the house and called for him. “Wes?”
“In the kitchen.”
Alec headed in that direction. “Couldn’t wait for me?”
“You’re late. I made you a sandwich.”
Alec took the sandwich and eyed its contents. “I had ham?”
“No. You had green bread and something that might have been cheese. Don’t you shop?”
Alec shrugged. “I eat out a lot.”
“Well, I bought you lunchmeat and fresh bread. Most parents provide food for their kids when they’re in college.”
“I’m a perpetual college resident. Cooking is out of my jurisdiction. You’ll have to go to your mother for that sort of tender care.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out some cash, sliding the reimbursement to his son who gracefully accepted it with a nod.
“Have you talked to Mum?” Wes asked as he took a bite of his sandwich.
“Not since last week. She and Claire are talking about taking a trip to the States this March. Maybe over spring break.”
“I may not be here.”
“Where are you going?”
“A group of friends and I are thinking about renting a place in the mountains. Nothing fancy, but it’ll be nice to get away. My neighbor makes sleeping impossible.”
Alec stilled at the mention of his son’s neighbor. “About your neighbor…”
“What about her? She’s a pain in the ass. I hope she drops out and never comes back.”
Alec swallowed the last of his sandwich. “Everyone is fighting some sort of a battle, Wesley. Try to be a little more tolerant.”
His son looked at him as though he were crazy. “She’s a total bitch, Dad. She has no respect for how thin our walls are. I hear everything she says. Last Saturday she was on the phone until almost three in the morning.”
Last Saturday she was with him. “Whom was she speaking to?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“Watch your language.”
“Oh, like you can talk. I hear how Dr. Devereux curses in his lectures.” He sighed, mimicking the voice of an American female. “He’s so…cool.”
“I say shit and damn. It’s tacky to say fuck.”
“I guess.”
“And you shouldn’t call your neighbor a bitch. She’s probably a very nice woman.”
He dropped his sandwich on his plate. “She’s not a nice woman. She calls me a wank and constantly tells me to blow her or bite her. Nice girls don’t talk like that.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay, Dad?”
He wiped his palms over his face and tried to curb his laughter. “Maybe you’re being a bit too touchy. She can’t be that loud all the time.”
“She is. She’s either blaring her music or talking on the phone or crying over something or another.”
He stilled. “She cries?”
“Every night.”
Something cold and uncomfortable settled in his stomach. “What does she cry about?”
His son balked. “Again, fuck if I know.”
Alec stood and cleared the table so his son couldn’t see his frown. “Did you say you had a paper you wanted me to look over?”
“Yeah. It’s on the counter.”
Alec picked it up and took the sheaf to the living room. He read over it slowly, his thoughts elsewhere. A while later he handed it back to Wes. “You have some typos and that second paragraph needs rewording.”
Wes opened his laptop and began making the corrections immediately. Alec gave him privacy knowing his son required quiet to get his work done. Alec went upstairs and showered.
When he returned, Wes was sleeping on the couch. He often crashed at his place on Fridays. Alec covered him with the quilt and found his keys in the kitchen. He knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to do, but he needed to see her. He needed to prove his son was wrong and the strong girl he knew Sheilagh possessed inside was safe and sound.
He couldn’t imagine her crying, especially if she was upset due to their last encounter. That was ridiculous. She’d probably already forgotten about it. If anyone was twisted over what happened, it was Alec.
He drove to her apartment, which also happened to be in his son’s building, and parked across the street. There were only two units, so it was easy to determine which was hers.
He knocked and was greeted with a shout.
“I’m not even making noise. Fuck off!”
He knocked again and the door whipped open.
“What—Alec. What are you doing here?”
“I missed you.” He shouldn’t have said that, but it was true.
She drew back and he glanced at what she was wearing. Her legs were covered in baggy sweats. Her sweatshirt was faded green and said O’Malley’s. Her hair was a mess and she had two different color socks on her feet. She looked adorable.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone.”
“I’m sorry. I should go.” He shouldn’t have come there.
“No. It’s fine. Did you want to come in? I just made some popcorn. I was going to watch a movie.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry for yelling. I thought you were my neighbor.”
He followed her inside and was amazed at how different her apartment appeared from his son’s. She had stuff everywhere.
He stood awkwardly in the living area. “Do you sleep out here?”
“Yeah. I need organization when I study, but I’m sort of messy. I made the bedroom my office and made this my bedroom.”
There was a couch, but it was covered with books. Her bed was against the far wall across from the television. He swallowed as he realized that was where they’d be watching a movie.
His eyes darted to a scrap of hot pink lace on the floor. Shit.
The smell of fresh popcorn met his nose. She placed the bowl on the coffee table and snatched up the pink panties he was staring at. “Just give me a second to clean up.”
He watched her make her way around the apartment. She had it cleaned up in a matter of two minutes. The books were returned to a shelf. Her clothing found its way into a basket. And she flattened out the blanket on her bed.
Something fell out of her covers and he bent to pick it up. As he scooped up the book his mouth opened. It was The Republic. She snatched it out of his hands and her cheeks darkened. “Sorry. I don’t know how that got there. Sit down.”
She scooped up the bowl of popcorn and sat crossed legged on the mattress. He lowered himself to the edge. “What movie were you going to watch?”
“It’s a toss-up between Boondock Saints or Braveheart.”
“Embracing your Celtic roots?”
She shrugged. “They’re both great movies.”
They were, but they were also violent. He wasn’t used to women like Sheilagh. She’s not a woman. She’s a twenty-four year old student.
“Do you have a preference?”
He frowned. “Of?”
“Which movie.”
“Braveheart,” he answered without giving it much thought. He only knew that was longer and he wanted a reason to be with her for a while. He couldn’t shake the memory of Wes saying she cried a lot.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine. Do you want some popcorn?”
He took the bowl and she hit play. The quiet humming flutes and strings started and the lights, all except the dim lamp in the kitchen, went out.
“I love this movie.”
“Does your family share any connection to the McCullough clan?”
“No. We’re Irish not Scottish.”
She reached into the bowl of popcorn and grabbed a handful. Jesus, he felt like he was a teenager, sitting in the dark with her and aware of her
every breath.
“The first scene’s always so brutal to watch,” she commented, stretching out her legs. She had little feet. And why didn’t her socks match?
“Most of Scottish history is dramatized with folklore,” he said in order to distract himself from the scent of her hair. Her entire place smelled like her, sweet and intoxicating.
“I know. William Wallace is supposedly real, but he wasn’t the actual Braveheart. Robert the Bruce was.” She was correct. He liked the fact that Sheilagh was full of useful knowledge.
She took the popcorn from him and placed the bowl on the table. “Why don’t you take off your coat? Stay a while.”
He slipped off his coat and set it over the foot of the bed. Spotting something black hanging in the shadows, he stilled. Damn it. It was her bra.
There was no way he was getting comfortable. He should go, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.
The movie carried on and soon Wallace was running off to marry his bride in secret. Alec’s throat tightened as the couple stood naked on the screen.
Sheilagh sighed. “I love how much he loved her. The fact she was the last thing he saw before he died.”
He turned and looked at Sheilagh. She was lying on her side, her cheek balanced on her palm as her eyes following the love scene on the television. Jesus, she was beautiful.
Her hair was the most unique shade of red, copper with strands of gold. Her eyes were a vibrant hue of green. And her skin was ivory, flawless. Her lips held a natural shade of burgundy he’d never seen before without makeup. He was suddenly jealous of every man that ever laid a hand on her.
She shifted and a piece of her long hair touched his hand. He couldn’t stop himself from touching it. She turned and looked up at him. Caught.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
No. It wasn’t. He shouldn’t be there and he certainly shouldn’t be touching her hair. “I should go.” He stood and she scrambled to sit up.
“Please don’t, Alec.”
He turned and faced her. What were they doing? This entire friendship had crossed a line and it was indecent. He could lose his job. “Sheilagh…”
“I don’t want to be by myself,” she said quickly and his heart broke, knowing what it took for her to make such an admission.
He sighed. “It isn’t right for me to be here.”
Faking It (McCullough Mountain) Page 7