I bit my lip and nodded.
“Stop everything, or just go no further?”
“Just… just no further,” I whispered.
“Done.” He gathered me into his arms and kissed me, one hand tangled in my hair and the other caressing down my back, our hearts pulsing out a cadence that the musician in me translated into a concert of lust.
***
I kept my eyes open on the ride home. Peeking over Lucas’s shoulder, I watched the scenery fly by—and it was exhilarating, not frightening. I trusted him. I had since that first night, when I let him drive me home.
Kennedy would have never stopped like that. Not that he had ever forced me or come close to doing so. If I asked him to stop, he’d stop and lay back, a hand over his face, calming himself and saying, “God, Jackie, you’re going to kill me.” After that, there was no further physical activity—no kissing, no touching. And I always felt guilty.
I thought the guilt would go away once we were actually sleeping together, because it was rare when I’d ask for a reprieve from sex, but if anything, my self-reproach was worse. He’d stop, abruptly, like it pained him. It was all or nothing. He’d take a few deep breaths, click on a game, or channel surf, or we’d go get something to eat. And I would feel like the world’s worst girlfriend.
Lucas had continued the make-out for another hour. Before it was over, he’d slid his hand between my legs, over my jeans. “This okay?” he asked, and at my breathless affirmative answer he stroked his fingers there while kissing me deeply, and somehow made me come through a layer of denim. I was shocked, and a little embarrassed, but one glance at his face told me he savored my body’s response, and his ability to trigger it. He would not let me return the favor.
“Leave me something to anticipate,” he’d whispered.
Now he was leaving me at the front of my building, wide awake from the cold drive, though he’d placed my hands under his jacket during the ride, so they wouldn’t be frozen. He put the helmets and his gloves aside and pulled me closer, his hands under my jacket, over my sweater. “Did you like the charcoal?”
I nodded. “Yes. Thank you for showing me your drawings… and the defense move.”
Resting his forehead to mine, he closed his eyes. “Mmm-hmm.” He kissed the tip of my nose, and then moved his lips to mine.
It almost hurt to kiss him—almost. I sighed into his mouth.
“You’d better get inside before…” He kissed me again, more hungrily, and I curled my hands between us against his hard chest.
“Before…?”
He inhaled and exhaled through his nose, his mouth a tight line, his hands gripping my waist. “Just. Before.”
I kissed the edge of his jaw and pulled away. “Goodnight, Lucas.”
He remained leaning against the Harley and watched me. “Goodnight, Jacqueline.”
I walked up the steps to my building, and not until I got to the door did I look up and see Kennedy standing there on the top step, his narrowed, curious eyes flicking between Lucas and me. “Jackie.” He stared down at me as I stepped up next to him. “I came by, thought we could talk. But Erin said you were out, and she wasn’t sure if you’d be back at all?” I’d left Erin a scribbled note telling her where I was. She must have enjoyed rubbing my night out in Kennedy’s face. He looked back toward the curb, but I didn’t turn to see if Lucas was there or gone.
“Why didn’t you text first? Or call?”
He shrugged, combing his hair back from his forehead with one hand, the other stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans. “I was in the building.”
I angled my head. “You were in the building, and thought you’d just stop by and I’d be in my room?” I had planned to just be in my room, but that was beside the point.
“No, of course I didn’t assume you’d be there,” he backpedaled. “I hoped you’d be there.” He looked toward the curb again. “Is… that guy waiting for you, or something?”
I turned then and saw Lucas, arms crossed over his chest, still leaning against his motorcycle. I couldn’t make out his facial features from this distance, even with the flood lights surrounding the dorm. But his body language spoke volumes. I lifted a hand and waved, to let him know I wasn’t being threatened. “No. He was just dropping me off.”
After a smirk of disdain in Lucas’s direction, Kennedy turned his sharp green eyes to me. “He doesn’t look as though he understands the concept of ‘dropping off,’ if you ask me.”
“Well, I didn’t ask you. What do you want, Kennedy?”
Some guy going inside called out, “K-Moore!” and Kennedy acknowledged him with a lifted chin before answering me. “I told you, I want to talk.”
I crossed my arms, starting to feel the chill in the air I hadn’t felt pressed to Lucas. “About what? Haven’t you said everything that needs to be said? Do you want to devalue me some more? Because I have to tell you, I’m not real super amenable to that.”
He sighed as though tolerating some sort of distraught outburst, a familiar consequence of me being inflexible—his word—that I’d seen many times in the past three years. I’d forgotten about that until seeing it again. “There’s no need to be inflexible,” he said then, as though reading my mind.
“Really? I think there are plenty of reasons for my inflexibility. Or stubbornness. Or obstinacy. Or pigheadedness—”
“I get it, Jackie.”
My hands made fists at my hips. “It’s. Jacqueline.”
He stepped closer, his eyes flaring. For a split second, I thought he was angry—but that wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was desire. “I get it, Jacqueline. I hurt you. And I deserve everything you’re saying, and everything you feel.” He raised his hand to my face and I stepped back, out of his reach, my thoughts chaotic. Dropping his hand, he added, “I miss you.”
Chapter 13
Snapping my mouth closed, I spun to swipe my card and enter the dorm, and Kennedy followed me through the door. I turned to tell him I didn’t want to talk and saw Lucas grabbing the door just before it snapped shut. Stepping next to me, he glared at my ex and the air was charged between them the moment Kennedy turned and noticed him.
“You okay, Jacqueline?” Lucas asked, his eyes never wavering from my ex.
“Lucas—” I started to reiterate verbally that Kennedy was no physical threat to me when he huffed an arrogant laugh, peering at Lucas.
“Wait—aren’t you the maintenance guy? The one who repaired the A/C at the house?” He glanced at me, and back to Lucas. “What would administration think about you sniffing around the students?”
The look on Lucas’s face was murderous, but he held his ground without reaction, ignoring Kennedy’s question as though it hadn’t been asked. He turned his eyes to me, waiting for my answer.
“I’m fine. I promise.” I held my breath, hoping he’d believe me. People near the door were already nudging each other and whispering.
“Are you hooking up with this guy, too?” Kennedy interjected.
“Too?” I asked, but I knew what he meant before he confirmed it.
“In addition to Buck.”
The edges of my vision closed in. “What?”
Kennedy took my arm just above the elbow, as though he meant to escort me away, and Lucas’s hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and removing his hand from me easily.
“What the fuck?” Kennedy’s voice was a low growl as he jerked his arm from Lucas’s grip. He put himself slightly in front of me, facing off with Lucas, and everyone within sight of the developing spectacle was stock-still and gawking. The two of them looked evenly matched, but I knew Lucas’s proficiency firsthand. Kennedy would lose, and Lucas would be expelled.
I stepped around my ex and laid a hand on his forearm. It was rock-hard beneath my fingers. “Kennedy, leave.”
“I’m not leaving you with this—”
“Kennedy, leave.”
“He’s a maintenance man, Jackie—”
“He’s a student, Kennedy.”
I decided not to point out that Lucas was in our econ class, in case he recognized him as the class tutor and reported him for going out with me.
Kennedy inclined his head, his expression transforming into concern—slightly furrowed brow, eyes searching mine. “We’ll talk next week. When we’re home.” His meaning was clear and directed at Lucas. The two of us were about to spend several days in our hometown, where he would have unrestricted access to me, without the nuisance of interference.
I wanted to tell him I had nothing to say to him, not now or then, but my jaw was clenched so tightly that I couldn’t speak. Still unsure what I was even doing over Thanksgiving break, I ignored his implication that we would be alone then. Judiciously, he didn’t try to touch me again, though his lethal expression matched Lucas’s as they faced off. I didn’t exhale until he went through the door.
Onlooker disappointment was palpable. A few hung around to see if there would be a bonus row between Lucas and me. The adrenaline was clearly still pumping through him—his body was taut, like the hard wire of my bass strings, and when I reached a hand to his forearm, it was granite under layers of leather and flannel.
“I’m okay, honest.” I sighed heavily. “Well, as okay as I can be after that.” I squinted up at him. “Exactly how many jobs do you have, anyway? Barista, self-defense guru, fixit guy, parking enforcement officer—and by the way, does that mean you gave me the ticket I got last spring for two measly minutes of double parking when I ran into the library to return a book?”
His shoulders relaxed with my teasing tone, and I was rewarded with the ghost smile. “I plead the fifth on that. I write a lot of parking tickets. The, um, fixit thing is rare. And I volunteer time for the self-defense gig.”
What I’d left off this list, and what he didn’t add: economics tutor.
“I guess we should add one more, huh?” I said, watching him closely. He had a superb poker face. No reaction at all. “Personal defender of Jacqueline Wallace?”
The faint smile appeared again.
“Another volunteer position, Lucas?” I asked coyly, brows rising. “How will you have time for studying? Or anything fun?”
His hands reached for me, gripping my hipbones and pulling me forward. He stared down at me, his voice low. “There are some things I will make time for, Jacqueline.” Leaning, he kissed the spot just in front of my ear, the spot that made my breath go shallow. And then, he turned and jogged out to his motorcycle, leaving me standing in the entryway. Once he was outside the pool of light surrounding the building, I couldn’t see him. I turned and walked to my room in a daze.
***
Jacqueline,
Your paper is good. Solid research. I think Dr. H will be pleased with it. I noted a couple of small inconsistencies, and one place you may have left out a citation. Other than that, I think it’s a valid, well-supported argument.
I’ve attached the worksheet for tomorrow’s session. You’re caught up now, and you seem to have a good grasp on the new material, but I’ll continue to send you the worksheets for the last two weeks of class, if you’d like.
I assume you’re going home over the break? I’ll be heading home Wednesday morning. No wifi there, so I’ll be out of pocket until Sunday.
LM
Landon,
Looks like I may get this paper turned in early—what a relief. Thank you for your help. Yes, please continue to send the worksheets.
My parents are going skiing over break, but I’d rather go home for a few days and hang out with old friends than stay here on campus. They’ll be boarding Coco, Mom’s evil-tempered little dog, so it should be peaceful and quiet.
Are you flying home? I remember you saying you were carless.
JW
Jacqueline,
Your parents are going skiing and not taking you? You’ll be at home for Thanksgiving alone?
I’m hitching a ride from someone with a car. Home isn’t far, though it seems like another world at times.
LM
Landon,
My parents thought I’d be at my ex’s. We’ve traded off the last couple of years rather than trying to join both family meals; this was his year. My BFF’s family will be at her grandparents’ cabin outside Boulder, and I’m not in the mood to burden anyone else.
I’d rather be alone. That’s weird, huh?
JW
Jacqueline,
Not weird to me. But maybe I’m just weird, too, and I wouldn’t know.
I’ll miss your emails.
LM
Landon,
Ditto. Have a good break.
JW
***
I couldn’t look back at Lucas during class Monday without thinking about Saturday night. His hooded stares made me think he was having the same issue. After I caught him staring holes into the back of Kennedy’s head, I didn’t turn back around. When class ended, Kennedy turned and smiled at me. I forced my lips into a line and turned my back to him to pack up. This class, this semester could not end too soon, for too many reasons to count.
“Can I just say—your ex is gorgeous, but he seems like a conceited asshat.” Benji crammed his spiral into a backpack that looked as though it could erupt with loose papers any moment.
I zipped my backpack. “Yeah, he totally is.” We waited for Kennedy to pass before moving into the aisle, and I studiously avoided making eye contact. I was more than a little worried about his assertion that we would talk while we were both home; I couldn’t imagine what he could have to say that I’d want to hear.
Following our classmates up the steps, everyone animated with anticipation of the coming long weekend, Benji told me he’d be flying home to Georgia and coming out to his father—the only member of his family he hadn’t told. “Mom’s known I was gay since I was thirteen.”
I was worried on his behalf. “Will your dad be… upset?”
He smiled. “I think he knows. He’s just not sure if that means I’m going to show up in a dress or something.” The thought of Benji in a dress wasn’t a pretty picture, and I couldn’t hold back my laugh. He laughed too, adding, “I know, right?”
Lucas was gone, or so I thought, until Benji and I emerged into the busy hallway and I spotted him leaning on the far wall, near the side door I usually took to escape the building. He watched us approach, but he seemed acutely aware of everyone else as well. I imagined him watching for Dr. Heller.
“You haven’t told him you know yet, have you?” Benji asked, speaking from the side of his mouth.
I shook my head.
“Don’t make him suffer too much. He looks sorta vulnerable.”
I chuckled. “Right. A tough, muscular guy like that—who’s trained to beat people up, and lies about who he is to girls—is so vulnerable.”
He squeezed my arm just above the elbow and smiled. “He’s either an asshat to rival all asshats before him, or there’s a reason for those lies.”
I sighed. “I wish I was a mind reader.”
“You might not, once you know what’s in there.”
“If I ever do.”
Benji shrugged in agreement and veered off toward the long hallway leading to the south exit, turning to call, “Have a good break, Jacqueline.”
“You, too.”
I reached Lucas and he turned to follow me, leaning close to push the door open. “Can I see you tonight?” he murmured.
I wondered if I was turning into a booty call. Or if that’s all it had ever been to him—if that was his reason for not telling me he was Landon Maxfield. “I have a test tomorrow in astronomy. We have study group in our room tonight.”
I glanced up at him, walking beside me with his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans. His gaze continuously scanned over the crowd of people, as though he was on guard.
“Tomorrow night?” He stared down at me as we neared the building, and I noted that he seemed to know exactly where I was going.
“I have an ensemble rehearsal tomorrow. I usually spend Sunda
y mornings in the music hall, but I missed yesterday.” I hadn’t told Lucas I played the bass. I’d told Landon.
“You slept in?”
I nodded.
“Me, too.”
We reached the entry and stopped to the side of the door. “I have to get my bass packed up, too, since I’m taking it home with me.” Waiting to see if he’d react, I watched his eyes, which matched the gray-blue of the overcast sky as his gaze drifted over the faces around us. “I’ll have plenty of time to rehearse during break.”
“When are you leaving town?” He flicked his hair from his eyes, avoiding the subject of my instrument completely.
“Wednesday morning. You?”
“Same.” He shifted, on edge, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and then all of a sudden, he settled and stilled. His eyes met mine, unwavering. “Text me if you’re done early. Or your plans change. Otherwise, I’ll catch you after break.” He hitched the shoulder over which his backpack was slung and added, “Later, Jacqueline,” before turning and blending into the flow of students, his dark head rising above most of them.
***
“Hold up. So tutor-guy Landon and hottie OBBP Lucas are the same guy?” Maggie’s eyes were so rounded with shock that I could see white all the way around her light brown irises.
“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t call him on that shit immediately.” Erin had her talk-show-participant face on. Any moment, she would call me girrrrl and start recounting the ass-kicking she’d be doing if she was in my shoes. Ever since she’d broken up with Chaz, she was much less tolerant of guys stepping out of line. Or appearing to.
I huffed a sigh and wished I’d never told them. “What happened to gag-him-and-bag him and rebound and operation bad boy phase?” The three of us sat on a comforter in the floor of the dorm room, drinking coffee and eating Oreos, astronomy texts and notes spread all around us, untouched for the last half hour as we discussed Landon/Lucas instead of gas giants and celestial navigation.
“He’s supposed to be your booty call. Not the other way around.” Erin’s voice resonated with authority.
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