We stop outside of our classroom and he opens the door for me. Such a gentleman. I’m pretty sure that no one has ever held a door for me, ever. I slide past him, conscious of the heat radiating from his body, but cautious not to actually touch him. My ass gets in the way all the damn time and that’s the last thing I need him to realize.
Bryan not only walks me to class, but he actually escorts me to a seat in the aisle. Before he walks away from me, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Now, don’t leave without me.” His warm breath sends shivers down my spine and causes goose bumps to spread like wild fire across my neck. I can’t form words, so I just smile and nod dumbly as he turns to walk toward the front of the room.
After the rest of the class settles in, the lecture begins. It doesn’t take me long to figure why he put me in an aisle seat. Every time he walks past me, which seems to be fairly frequently, he brushes up against my arm with his. When he hands me a stack of papers to pass down to the rest of the row, his long fingers graze over mine and he winks at me while leaving his hand on mine for longer than he really needs to. He was openly flirting with me before and I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. But now, it’s clear. He’s into me.
Well, color me surprised. In all my life, no one has ever been interested in me. I have always been the curvy wallflower of the group and I have hated every minute of it. His flirting makes me feel beautiful and important. And it’s not just because he’s gorgeous—though that doesn’t hurt. It’s more about the way that he talks to me, with passion and energy; it’s in the way he touched my nose earlier, with kind tenderness; it’s in the way he looks at me, as if he’s actually seeing the real me.
As Professor O’Neil, drones on and on about binary code and HTMLs, I get lost thinking about what the hell Bryan sees in me. The only answer I can come up with is that he must have trouble with his vision. I mean, doesn’t he see that I’m not perfect like the stick-thin Barbie girl sitting behind me? Back in the lab, he touched my hair so he had to notice that it was an unruly mess of red waves—not the perfectly, pin-straight blonde locks that all men seem to love and all women long to possess. Walking to class, he had his hand on my waist. He felt the soft give of my flesh—no skin and bones here. Yet, he is still actively making eye contact with me and smiling at me across the room.
Part of me can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of cruel joke on the chubby chick. God knows that I’ve been there before. I wonder what his motives are. What’s he getting at? Because no matter how much I feel that spark between us, I refuse to believe that he doesn’t have an ulterior motive.
When class is over, Bryan eyes me amid the shuffle of the other students filtering into the aisles. Holding up one finger, he mouths “Give me one minute.” And that smile, it’s impossible not to smile back at him. So, of course, I do.
As I’m zipping up my backpack, I hear Barbie girl from behind me talking with her friend. “He’s still so freaking hot,” Blondie says. The tone of her voice has this quality to it that suggests she knows just how hot he really is—especially naked.
“Oh my God. You still want him, don’t you, Courtney?” Blondie, who I now know is Courtney, gasps but then giggles at her friend’s apparently accurate accusation. I twist in my seat just a bit to catch a glimpse of the two of them, but I don’t want to look too obvious so I make it look like I’m bending down to adjust the strap on my sandal.
Courtney is more gorgeous than I originally thought. She’s got legs that go on forever. They’re long, lean and tanned, and most importantly, cellulite free. In other words, they are nothing like mine. Her super-cute denim shorts—you know, the kind that have more pocket than denim—are extremely short and don’t leave much to the imagination. I laugh inwardly thinking that I have underwear that cover more skin than her shorts do.
She adjusts her already low-cut black halter top to expose even more of her perky breasts and I almost laugh out loud at her very obvious attempt to catch the attention of whomever it is that she clearly wants back. In all honesty, she looks like she’s dressed to go to some night club instead of a technology class—well, any class for that matter, unless the college offers pole dancing classes.
Courtney shrugs her shoulders. “Are you kidding me, Tori? Um, hell yeah I do. Look at him. Wouldn’t you want that back in your bed?” I follow the path that Courtney and Tori’s eyes are traveling and feel absolutely sick when I realize that they are talking about Bryan, my Bryan.
Where the hell did that come from? My Bryan. Like hell he is. Especially when I’m up against a girl like Courtney.
I suddenly feel sick and foolish for letting myself believe that he would honestly be interested in me. Shaking away thoughts of our earlier flirting, I stand from my seat only to be met with the disgusted faces of Courtney and Tori. Clearly, I’m obstructing the view of their eye-candy.
Courtney’s glossy, full lips curl into a sexy smile and when I glance over my shoulder, I see that she is smiling at Bryan who is walking toward her.
I roll my eyes and sigh sarcastically at her overtly sexual posture. She’s pushing her boobs out and pouting her lips. Do guys actually fall for this kind of stuff? I guess there was part of me that foolishly thought Bryan was different.
Talk about a naïve freshman!
I push past the girls and, as I’m walking to the exit, I hear Bryan call out, “Melanie, where are you going?” That magnetic pull I felt toward him earlier draws me back into the room. Instantly, I wish I hadn’t turned around. The shocked and almost sickening looks on Courtney and Tori’s faces make me feel less than insignificant.
Bryan is taking the steps two at a time, hurrying to catch me before I leave. He nearly stumbles when Courtney reaches out for him with her grubby little hand. I’m watching the whole scene as if it’s playing out in slow motion.
“Hey, Bry baby.” Courtney’s words are laced heavily with seduction. When she reaches up to cup his cheek, jealousy and disgust swirl through my veins.
Keeping an eye on me, as I remain glued to my spot by the exit, Bryan wraps his hand around Courtney’s and pulls it away from his face before she even makes contact. My heart sings when I hear him say, “I’m done with you, Courtney. Now, get out of my way.”
Bryan is standing in front of me before I can even register what’s going on, but one thing is clear—he just chose me over her.
Lacing his fingers with mine, he says “I don’t know what she said to you, but don’t believe any of it. She’s a lying, shallow, heartless bitch.” His words sound as pained and angry as his face looks and I just want to curl myself around him and comfort him. Yet at the same time, the need to protect myself from being humiliated and hurt takes over. I pull my hand from his, and adjust my bag over my shoulder.
I shake my head as I say, “She didn’t say anything. But if looks could kill, well, I’d be dead by now.”
He laughs, but it’s a gruff and uneasy sound. “Yeah, well, that sounds like Courtney.” He pulls my bag from my shoulder and once again effortlessly carries mine along with his as we leave the classroom and the shocked faces of Courtney and Tori behind us.
As we’re walking back down the hallway, I remember that I left my student ID in the lab. I pulled it out to log onto the computer and forgot to put it away. “Shit. I have to run back to the lab. I’ll see you around.” I have to admit, this is a rather convenient mistake. Now I can get away from him and try to sort through my little pity party.
“It’s okay. I’ll go with you. I need to work on some stuff for this class anyway.” So much for a little bit of distance.
When we get back to the lab, I find my card right where I left it. “Oh, here it is. That totally would have sucked.” He smiles warmly at me as he hands over my bag. “Here you go, Melanie. I’m sorry about before.”
Apologizing for something that is totally out of control just upped the adorable factor that he already had going for him. “It’s okay, Bryan. It’s no big deal.” I adjust my bag on my shoulde
r, though it’s more out of nervousness than anything. I need to get out of here. “Bye.” I smile and walk past him, but he doesn’t let me by. He surprises me when he gently grabs my wrist. “Wait,” he pleads.
It’s because he’s touching me that I can’t say anything. So I stand there mute waiting for him to speak.
Raking his other hand through his hair, nervousness sets in on his face. “What are you doing tonight? Can we go out?” His question completely throws me for a loop and all I can see is me in comparison to the last girl he dated.
Opting for self-preservation, I tell him, “No. I can’t. I’m really busy tonight. Sorry.” It’s pathetic and about as solid of an excuse as a house of cards, but I’m sticking to it.
I smile lamely at Bryan before turning toward the door. He lets me get past him this time.
Just as I’m about to turn the knob, Bryan calls out, “Where are you going?” His voice takes on that desperate and longing tone again as he places his hand on my shoulder to try and turn me around.
I’m not sure if it’s from exhaustion in general—early mornings never agreed with me—or if it’s from the emotional rollercoaster that I’ve been on since he surprised me by picking me up for work, but my shoulders slump under his touch. Slowly turning to face him, I pinch the bridge of my nose, which is still sore from getting a little banged up this morning, and try to make some sense of what I want to say.
“I’m going back to my room. I figured we were done here.” My words sound as exasperated as I feel. I just need to get away from him and sort my mind, but he just won’t let me go.
His scans the room as if he’s looking for something to keep me here. “Well, I mean, if you don’t have class or anything, I could show you around . . . or maybe train you on some things . . .” He’s clearly searching for excuses to keep me here.
Beyond frustrated with his subtle hints and more than a little curious about his motives to keep me here, I drop my bag to the floor and blurt out the question that has been on my mind since he first spoke to me. “What do you want with me, Bryan? I mean, all week you were flirting with me, or at least I thought it was flirting.” The pause I take allows me to suck in an unsteady breath. “But after seeing your ex, I realize how stupid of me it was to think that you were flirting. There’s no way on Earth you’d be interested in me if you have a chance of being with someone like her. So what the hell? Please enlighten me!” I tap my foot in front of me in frustration as I brush my unruly hair out my eyes.
Bryan takes a step toward me, and I swear, my heart stops beating. Standing before me, his eyes bore into mine and I realize that there are soft hazel and golden flecks in those deep chocolate irises. Another piece of my hair falls across my cheek, and Bryan tenderly sweeps it away. His eyes soften and dance with light as he says, “You need to know two things, Melanie.”
He’s so close to me that I can’t say anything. The grey matter that used to be my brain will only allow me to nod dumbly at him.
“First of all, yes, Courtney and I dated last year. But we broke up because she’s superficial and shallow and we had nothing in common. She’s not a nice person and I think you know that now. So please believe me when I tell you that I definitely do not want to be with her, anymore.” He gives me a second to let his words sink in before he leans his forehead to mine.
Cupping the soft curve of my jaw tenderly, he moves his lips to my ear, making it completely impossible for anything intelligible to come out of my mouth. I can smell the cinnamon on his breath and I want so badly to lick his full lips.
Whispering softly, he tells me, “And yes, I am flirting.”
My breath hitches in my throat as his soft lips graze the outer shell of my ear. The room spins and my knees wobble slightly. When the tiniest bit of my composure returns, I mumble, “I must be hallucinating then, because I think you just told me that you’re flirting with me.”
He pulls his lips away from my ear, but keeps his hand at my cheek. Lightly brushing the pad of this thumb across my freckled peaches-and-cream skin, he asks, “Why do you find that so hard to believe?” He’s looks like he’s searching my face for some kind of answer, but all he’ll find there is disbelief.
I reach up and pull his hand away from my face. I can’t concentrate when he’s touching me. Shaking my head, I try to gather my thoughts. I’m pretty sure that if I tell him what I’m really thinking, he’ll run away from me and my craziness. A few more seconds pass and I still can’t come up with any kind of explanation that won’t expose the insecure girl who I try my hardest to keep hidden. “Please, Melanie, talk to me. I thought we had a good morning. I thought things were off to a decent start this week.” Bryan’s words convey his confusion, and if I’m not mistaken, he also sounds a little hurt.
Sobered by the idea that I’m hurting him by rejecting his advances, I take a deep, cleansing breath and offer up the best explanation I can come up with. “No, you’re right, we did have a good morning and I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you.” Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and averting contact with his searing eyes, I add, “And I was flirting too.” I feel the embarrassment of admitting my flirtation spread across my neck and chest as it creeps toward my face.
“I knew it!” His eyes twinkle as his lips curl up into the most gorgeous lopsided grin I have ever seen. You know the kind you only read about in romance novels. Well, apparently, they exist in real life too.
I have no choice but to huff and roll my eyes at him and his goofy grin. “Fine, then. You flirted and I flirted, but that still leaves one very important question hanging in the air.”
Bryan folds his arms across his chest and my eyes are immediately drawn to the way his t-shirt stretches under the strain of his muscles. He catches me staring and arches an eyebrow at me. “And that question would be?” he prompts and I have to peel my eyes away from his delicious body.
With my eyes cast downward, I barely squeak out the question that I’ve been dying to ask since seeing Courtney’s perfect body. “Why me? When you can have her, why me?”
He immediately responds without missing a beat. “Because I don’t want her.” His words are curt and cold. But then his eyes rake over my body causing my face to go crimson again. “And, I like you. A lot.”
He sees the look of surprise on my face and says, “Give me one good reason not to like you, Melanie. You answered the ad for the job less than ten minutes after I posted it, so I know you’re ambitious. Based on the few questions you answered in class, I can tell that you’re smart. We’ve shared plenty of laughs this week. And well . . .” His eyes rake over my curves one last time before he continues, “I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He cups my chin to pull my eyes up to his again. Scanning my face, Bryan’s eyes focus in on mine as he softly adds, “Why not you?”
I roll my eyes at his compliments. It’s the only way I know how to react to them. But when my eyes return from their skyward journey, his are trained on my lips. Through a fog of lust that’s just settled around us, I vaguely hear his words. “Just give me time and I’ll prove it to you. You’ll see just how beautiful I think you are. You’ll understand just how much I like you.”
When his soft lips oh-so-briefly brush against my cheek, I lose all sense of rational thought. As he struts away from me, without a backward glance, I can’t help but wonder what he has in mind to wear me down.
Chapter 3
Friday, January 25, 2013
It’s early. Way too early for me to be up, but when the distinct sound of the door opening filters into my room, my drowsiness vanishes instantly. Bryan isn’t back yet. Cammie and Lia aren’t going to be here for another day. Who the hell?
I slip on my robe and flip-flops and tiptoe my way to the front door. That’s when the fear takes over. I hear banging—almost as if someone is driving their shoulder into the door trying to open it.
My stomach drops and my heart thuds wildly in my chest. As my mind races through the endless and sc
ary possibilities, I remember that Lia stowed an old baseball bat in the front closet for this exact reason. We all laughed at her craziness, but in this moment, I could hug the life out of her.
Hefting the weight of the old school, wooden Louisville Slugger up to my shoulder, I stand to the side of the door, nervously awaiting whoever is on the other side to make their way through.
The lock clicks, and as if everything is in slow motion, I watch the knob turn slowly. Bat cocked on my shoulder, I’m ready to attack, though I know I don’t stand a chance against a potential attacker. My feeble arms can barely hold up the bat. Maybe I can at least shock him and sprint past him as the door opens.
A blinding light shines in my eyes as the door cracks open—sun shining in from the huge hallway windows that open out into the courtyard. Shoot, I can’t see! Before I can do anything about it, I see legs stepping through the door.
Acting on pure instinct, I swing the bat wildly and it crashes against what I assume is a kneecap. A body falls to the floor and I lift the heavy bat above my head to get in one more solid crack before I slip past the intruder.
Arms cross above the intruder’s head, and rather than a harsh and brutish voice, a small and terrified one reaches through to my ears. “No! Please! I live here. Stop, please!” Her voice is petrified and laced with pain. “Please . . . don’t hit me again.” I drop the bat from my hands immediately as she eases her body back against the now closed door.
She’s holding her hands up in front of her in a sign of surrender and she tries to catch her breath through the pain. The bat rolls up against her outstretched legs; she grabs at her knee and winces painfully.
The Love Series Complete Box Set Page 52