by Jillian Neal
“What’s a slapper?”
“Uh, rough translation would be woman lacking great moral fiber.”
“I thought you liked my cowgirl side.”
“Oh honey, there are few things I adore more about you, but you can’t show it off if someone throws a pair of panties on the stage.”
Holly choked on her coffee. “Has anyone ever done that?”
“Few times.”
“I am so coming tonight.”
“Many, many, many times, but not ‘til after the show.”
“Funny.”
“You are welcome to come, but you have to behave.”
“I much prefer being naughty.”
“Don’t I know it. Don’t I love it.”
“Just feels a little like being the only girl without a prom date, and I would know exactly how that feels because my brothers threatened to kill any guy that asked me both my junior and senior years. I never got to go.”
“I am both terrified and appreciative of your brothers.”
“They’re relatively civilized, just occasionally dumbasses.”
“Sounds like they must have Y chromosomes. Listen, love, the guys just got here. I love you. I miss you. I will see you right after the show tonight. If you want to come, you are more than welcome, but remember the rules.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you, too.”
“There’s my sweet girl,” Dec harassed.
“Go play, St. James. I’ll see you later.”
Still unable to shake the feeling that something weird had happened the last time she’d been alone in Dec’s house, Holly saw no reason to go over early. He wouldn’t be back until well after midnight.
But by eight-thirty, she’d finished most of her homework. The rest she needed Beth to complete, and Beth, like everyone else, was at Duffy’s. Desperate for someone to talk to, she called Cheyenne. “Hey girly, how goes it?”
“It’s so good. On my way to meet Grant and Wesley Kilroy to talk about the dance after the cattle show.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Holly wished on the starless night that maybe just maybe Grant would see that Chey was really a sweetheart and ask her out. “I am crossing my fingers that Grant does not act like an ornery bull.”
“I think he’s cute when he’s stubborn.”
“Chey, you thought he was cute when he got thrown a few years ago and was throwing up from his concussion.”
“He should have let me take care of him, but like we just said, he is stubborn. So, what are you and the horny professor up to tonight?”
“Dec’s playing Duffy’s so I’m stuck here until he’s done.”
“Why are you stuck there? Why didn’t you go see him perform?”
“It’s complicated. I can’t act like I know him as it would effectively ruin both of our lives if anyone figured out we’re together. It blows goats.”
Cheyenne giggled. “I’m sorry, Holl. At least the guy you’re hot and heavy for wants to get with you, too. Count yourself lucky. Maybe I should wear one of those mega-push up bras tonight.”
“Your tits are already mega, Chey. You’re gorgeous. My brother is a dumbass. We’ve already established this.”
“Well, maybe you could call him for me and feel him out. Then call me back and tell me what I should say to get him to finally notice me tonight.”
“Chey, that feels kinda desperate and very eighth-grade.”
“You could be more helpful if you wanted.”
Holly heard computer keys clicking. “What are you doing?”
“Sometimes Duffy’s livestreams videos of their performers. I want to see Declan.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, here it is. They’re just taking the stage.”
“Is it on their site?”
“No. Check their Youtube channel. Damn, Hol, he’s hot. How do you always end up with the hottest guys?”
“He’s the only guy I’ve ever ended up with.” Holly quickly found Duffy’s channel. Someone had uploaded a short video of the intro and first song. At the end of the video was some chick front and center right below Dec’s mic. The video blurred but not before Holly saw the skank flash Dec.
“Oh my bulla shitta, did you see that?” Cheyenne gasped.
“Yes, yes, I did.” Unmitigated rage blazed through Holly.
“Girl, if I were you I’d get myself down there and stake my claim.”
“Already on my way.” Holly stepped into her boots, grabbed her duffle bag, slammed the door, and sped to her truck. She arrived in time to see the woman from the video and two of her friends being escorted out of the club by two massive bouncers that looked like human concrete walls. “Think you’ve had way too many fishbowls, ladies. Go sober up and don’t return.”
“I can’t. . .that doucheass. . .can’t. . .kick us. . .out.” The flasher stumbled forward. One of the bouncers caught her before she ate the pavement.
A twinge of compassion that Holly hated herself for feeling niggled in her chest. “You need to call them a cab.”
“Bartender already did. Frontman of the band ordered them out. Scott okayed it. Good bands bring in customers. What they say goes.”
The jealous girlfriend bit has to be highly unattractive, Holl. She scolded herself. She should’ve known Dec wouldn’t put up with that. He loved her. “Are you going to stay with them until the cab arrives?”
“I don’t get paid to babysit, honey. If you’re friends of theirs, you can stay with them.”
“I’m not, but I’ll stay.” The women began laughing hysterically at a rock, from what Holly could tell. Rolling her eyes, she willed the cabbie to speed it up. Thankfully, she arrived just a few minutes later. One of the women supplied an address, twice.
The cabbie rolled her eyes. “I’ve taken them home from here before.”
With that, Holly slipped inside the bar. She wanted to hear Dec play, even if she had to act like he meant nothing to her.
“I was wondering when you’d show up, Camden.” Trevor’s spiteful drawl slammed into Holly as she made her way towards the tables.
Spinning on her boot heel, she narrowed her eyes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Singleton? You miss me or something.”
“You think you’re so smart, but you’re so full of shit, Holly, and this time I’m gonna watch you drown in it.”
Poking out her bottom lip in a mocking pout, Holly pretended to wipe her eyes. “Poor, Trevy, what’s wrong? Is Daddy not gonna be able to get you everything you want this time? Gonna have to grow up and learn to be something besides a twenty-gallon sack of shit in a ten-gallon bag?”
Trevor was trying his damnedest to appear unaffected, but Holly had gotten to him, she could see it in his weasley little eyes. “I’ll make you sorry you said that.”
“Can’t wait.” Holly’s eyes turned to the stage without her permission. Dec had spotted her as they prepared for their second set. Concern was tensed on his face. He lifted his eyebrows in question and discreetly gestured to Trevor. Before Holly could try to communicate that she was fine, Trevor stalked out of the bar.
“You came,” Beth raced to her side. “There’s no seats anywhere, but come over here with me.”
She watched Dec, Garrick, and Kade lean in onstage. Dec gave instructions and got nods of agreement.
“I told him you’d show.” Wyatt joined Beth and Holly as they staked out a spot near the back of the bar. “But I’m saying nothing. I’ve been given my orders.”
“Thanks,” Holly brushed a kiss on Wyatt’s cheek.
“Wanna drink?” Wyatt pointed to the bar.
“Sure, but not a fishbowl,” Holly wrinkled her nose.
“Knew you had good taste. Be right back.”
“I have never seen so many people here,” Beth shouted as the fierce thrum of Dec’s Stratocaster shattered the smoky air.
“Me either.”
A parade of emotions worked through Dec as he watched Wyatt carefully balance two glasses of win
e for Beth and Holly. He was both nervous and thrilled she’d come, excited to play a few songs just for them, and furious at whatever Singleton had said to her that had her in full-on cowgirl mode for a few minutes. Once you recognized the sassy cock of her hip, slip of her jaw, and the fire in her eyes when someone tried to mess with her, you knew that someone was about to go down. . .hard.
Sure enough, Singleton had fled the premises. Having willingly agreed to play Hot for Teacher again that evening, Dec began the insanity. He saw Holly cover her mouth to keep from laughing and he had to close his eyes to play without messing the entire intro up.
Soon she was singing along, and he swore he fell even more in love with her. They followed it up with Nothing Else Matters and he tried to stare anywhere but at her. Wednesday night was still potent and fresh in his mind. He could think of nothing else but her cuddled in his arms after their extended sessions.
He found himself hating their predicament more and more with each passing day.
Chapter Forty
“I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m going to because I’m just that kind of guy,” Dec sighed as he read emails on his laptop in Holly’s lap as she was reclined against him, forcing him to watch American football two weeks later.
“What shouldn’t you be doing?”
“Semi-grading Mr. Singleton’s latest emailed paper.”
“How do you semi-grade something, and why are you giving that asswipe special treatment?”
“I’m highlighting the entire paragraphs that he stole from either Reddit, Thought Catalog, or something called Love Shack Psych, and sending it back to him as the very reason I will not accept emailed papers.”
“Those aren’t even psychological studies. They’re just random people spouting off their opinions.”
“I am aware, darling. I’m doing this because Newsome asked me to.”
“Asked you to grade his papers even though they aren’t in pencil?”
“Asked me to help him in any way I possibly could.”
“He asked you to give him special treatment?”
“No, just to really reach out to the kid. This is me reaching out.”
“What was his topic?”
“Dismantling the stigmas behind calling a lover Daddy from both the male and female perspectives.”
“You’re big on dismantling stigmas, Dr. St. James.”
“That is because stigmas can do a great deal of harm to humans as sexual beings.”
“Okay, so why do men and women like the daddy thing?”
“Not all do, but generally it has nothing to do with either of their fathers. Nothing Freudian about it. It’s a specific role he either longs to fulfill or she desperately wants him to fulfill. He wants to care for her every need, protect her, nourish her. He generally wants to be a solid, stable fixture in her life. The name has to be separated from her own father, however, and people struggle with that.”
“I can honestly say I have never thought about my dad while we were fucking.”
“Can’t always control what pops into your head during sex. You already know that, seeing as you have the highest grade in my class, but as your boyfriend that makes me exceedingly happy.”
“Does all of that mean you want me to call you Daddy?”
Dec growled in her ear. “I told you, either that or sexgod.”
A blast of cool air whipped Holly’s long hair out behind her. She cinched up her coat and quickstepped to her truck in the parking lot. She would’ve given anything to go back to the ranch to ride Lightening. This was perfect riding weather. The leaves on the campus ground were still crunchy, not quite waterlogged like they would be as soon as the first snowfall hit.
Just two more days and it would be the weekend and she could go back to Dec’s. He’d looked particularly sexy that day, dressed in a button-down shirt and jacket. The top buttons of his shirt had been undone and he hadn’t shaven that morning since they’d broken the rules again and Holly had stayed over the evening before. She’d given him something to do besides shave that morning.
Grinning at that, she ordered herself to stop breaking rules. They were well over halfway through the semester. In a few short weeks, they could come out, so to speak. And tonight was the psychology symposium. The very symposium where she had been asked to sit at Dr. Newsome’s table along with Kyle Sapen, another contender for the supervisor spot who’d come out of graduate school in Oregon.
Climbing up in her truck, she immediately rolled her eyes. Dammit, couldn’t the local pizza shops advertise some way other than shoving shit under her windshield wipers? Balancing carefully, she leaned out the door and yanked a large envelope off of her windshield.
When she tossed it in the passenger seat, a few pieces of computer paper slipped out of the top. Furrowing her brow, she retrieved the papers. Her heart leapt to her throat as she read the sloppy handwritten note on top.
‘Hey, I don’t know who you are, and you don’t know me, but some guy’s been paying me to take pics of you. It’s getting weird. I thought you should know. These are all the photos I’ve taken. I swear, I won’t do it anymore. Just be careful.’ ~ M. A.
There were seven pictures. One was of some guy’s thumb and what looked like it might’ve been the toe of one of Holly’s boots. The concrete ground and brick border in the shot looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite tell where it had been taken. There were four of her in full frame from the student parking lot where she normally parked her truck and two from the parking lot of her apartment building. Her hands trembled. Bile flooded her throat. The questions stabbed like icy shards through her. Who and why took several vicious blows.
She tried to breathe while searching every inch of the parking lot and Psychology annex. She saw no one out of place. Internet newspaper headlines scrolled through her mind. Stalkers. College girls. Harassment. Other horrific statistics racked readily behind the headlines.
Trembling, she jerked around in her seat but there was no one in her truck. Think, Holly. Dec was in a staff meeting about the symposium that evening. She needed to tell campus security. For some reason, she believed whoever M.A. was. What would he have to gain from giving her those? It felt like a confession.
Telling herself that if this had anything to do with her and Dec, he would’ve also been in the pictures, she touched the first name of the last person she’d called.
“I never hear from you twice in one day. How’s my girl?” Her mother’s voice steadied her.
“Hey, Mama, I’m okay I think. Would you just stay on the phone with me while I walk back inside the building?”
“Holly, what on earth?”
“I’m going in to talk to campus security. Just, if I scream or anything call the police.”
“Holly, what happened?”
“Just don’t freak out. Someone’s been taking pictures of me in the parking lot.”
“Everett,” her mother’s shout nearly deafened Holly.
“No, don’t tell. . . .”
“What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“Nothing, Daddy. I’m okay. Look, I’m walking in the building. I’m fine. I’ll call you and Mama later when I figure out what’s going on.”
She drew a deep breath as she entered the Psychology Sciences office building. Dec was standing with Dr. Newsome, Dr. Sinclair, and Professor Maven. He rushed towards her as soon as the door opened.
“What’s wrong, ba. . . .” he caught himself just in time. “Everything all right, Ms. Camden?”
Putting on her game face, though her legs were the consistency of Jell-O, she handed him the envelope. “Dr. St. James, um, someone put this on my truck.”
Dr. Newsome joined them. Dec’s entire body was rigid as he flipped through the printed photographs. Fury darkened his eyes.
“Dear me.” Newsome shook his head. “I’m so sorry, dear. Tell me this isn’t your apartment parking lot?”
“It is, sir.” Holly nodded.
“Is there anywhere else you could stay
until we get this resolved?”
“Uh. . . .” Do not look at Dec. Do not look at Dec. “I guess I could go home and drive in every day. It’s a long way, though.”
“Well, that might be best.”
“I know this may be a bit unorthodox, Dr. Newsome, but I have a very large home with a guest house. She’d be welcome to stay there. I’m not even home much,” Dec immediately volunteered.
Guest house? He doesn’t have a guest house. Holly shook herself. Duh, Holly, no one has to know that.
“I wouldn’t want to be any imposition, Dr. St. James. I really don’t want to go back to my apartment, though.”
“No imposition at all. Any student’s safety is always my top priority.”
Dr. Newsome seemed torn but finally shrugged. “I certainly cannot tell a doctoral student where they may or may not stay. It’s none of my never-mind. If you’d feel safer in Dr. St. James’ guest house, it would certainly give me peace of mind. Not that I doubt your ability to take care of yourself, of course. It would let me sleep at night, though. I’d like to take these to the head of campus security. This has become a problem as of late. Several instances have been reported. We do have cameras in all of the parking lots. Surely, we’ll catch our photographer soon. Would you mind walking with me there?”
“That’s fine, sir. Thank you.”
“Do you have any idea who might’ve wanted you photographed? Seems to me whomever M.A. is, he turned these in out of guilt,” Dec asked?
“I agree, Dr. St. James. The photographer risked his own neck clearly out of guilt. What on earth would he have had to gain from this?” Newsome studied the note again.
“Exactly.” Dec biceps flexed constantly. She watched his pulse hammer in his throat and his jaw tense. Everything about him looked severe. Intensity rolled off of him in waves. Holly wanted him to hold her, and to tell her that it would all go away. She wanted to promise him that she could take care of herself. She wished she felt that way.
“Let’s go talk with the head of security, and I think we should also let the police department know. I will personally walk you to your truck when we’re finished and follow you back to your apartment to get your things for this evening,” Newsome vowed.