by Bella Grant
“Well, that’s it for the semester,” the professor announced at two. “Hopefully, I won’t see any of you next semester. Though I don’t doubt I will. There’s a useful text in the library—Cost Analysis Concepts and Practice by Bordman, Greenburg, et al.”
Half the students were already out the door and didn’t hear a word about the text. The title slipped my mind as I watched her. What did the professor call her? Miss Hoskins? She gathered her books and dumped them into her Messenger bag, checking her watch at the same time she slipped the bag across her shoulders so the strap rested between her breasts. The strap strained against her chest from her bag, heavy with books, and showed up the sweet curves of her breasts.
I checked my tongue wasn’t lolling from my head. Not quite but almost.
Dressed in faded jeans, a t-shirt, and tennis shoes that had seen better days, she moved up the aisle. I remained seated and watched her. She was even more striking in my sobriety than in my inebriation. She had an oval face framed by the loose tendrils of her plait. Her eyes were bright green—not that I could see them now, but I remembered from last night. To be exact, bright green with flecks of gold. She was petite, no more than five-two, and at my height of six feet, two inches, that was small. Her compact body displayed curvy hips and slender legs in her tight jeans. When she walked by me, not even giving me a cursory glance in her haste to get out the lecture room, I stopped short of whistling at her nicely shaped, firm round bottom. When it came to women, the song ‘I like big butts and I cannot lie,” pretty much described me and damn, did she have a fine ass.
My first instinct was to go after her and f out who she was. Maybe we could go for coffee or something. Anything that would keep me in her presence a little while longer.
“Hi, Lucas!”
I swung my eyes away from the girl who haunted my thoughts and groaned in dismay at Rozanne who blocked my path. She was a leggy and busty blonde I’d had sex with at the back of some club I couldn’t remember. We’d both been drunk and horny. I could barely remember the full details of that night, but she seemed to because she was always coming around for more. I’d obliged her for a while but she wanted a relationship and I couldn’t give that to her, so I’d tried breaking up with her gently. I was beginning to think, short of bellowing that I had nothing more than a sexual interest in her which had waned, she wasn’t going to get it.
“Rozanne, I can’t talk right now.”
“But I wanted to see if I could come over tonight?” she asked hopefully but I moved her to the side so I could pass by her.
“I’m busy tonight,” I answered and before she could ask doing what, I dashed from the lecture hall, my eyes roaming every direction for her. Left, right, up the corridor…there! I could just make out her form going towards the library.
A group of guys called to me, asking something about a party, but I waved to them and went after her, bumping into people because I kept my eyes on her. I didn’t want to lose her.
Given the length of my legs, I was behind her in a few strides. I followed her into the library and stayed out of sight, feeling like a stalker. She checked the computer, locating a book, and scribbled on a piece of paper before heading up the stairs. I checked the computer she hadn’t logged out of and noted she was looking for the text the professor had suggested we read for the test.
So that’s the type of girl she is, I thought. I could hardly be shocked by this, though. The way she had answered that question in class today showed she was a bright spark and spent a lot of time in books. No wonder I’d never noticed her before.
I didn’t bother to trail her upstairs, knowing she’d have to return to the first floor to check the book out anyway. I occupied one of the computer stations in the library and logged into my Twitter account. I could at least check up on the latest happenings while she searched for her book—as long as I kept an eye out for her return.
With nearly a million Twitter followers, I had a considerable number of notifications. I’d done some modeling during my freshman and sophomore years, mostly because it had been fun and it was something to do to break the cycle of studying. Nothing big. Just a few shows, but I’d made the runway in Milan. I’d gained most of my followers then, three-quarters being women trying to get my attention.
One notification stood out as I skipped through them. Last winter party for the school term. Club Bullseye, a new club on Larimer Square catering mostly to wealthy college kids. The place was pricey but its décor and the atmosphere was worth it if one could afford it. I had been there thrice and enjoyed myself each time. The ultraviolet lights, euro-style lounges, and silky curtains, which enabled adventurous couples to have a quickie, all made for a fun experience.
I groaned low in my throat as a picture of her came to my mind, of us slipping behind one of those silky curtains…
Debra
“Dammit,” I grumbled in irritation that a copy of the book Professor Meads had recommended was nowhere on the shelf. I double-checked the piece of paper where I’d scribbled the information for its location and I knew I was in the right place. All the books on banking and finance were here, which meant someone had to have borrowed this one. But the computer system had declared it available.
I glanced around the floor of the library and my eyes widened in alarm at the books left on the tables. There was no telling where the copy of the book could have ended up. I wouldn’t be able to find it as I didn’t have time to check all the books on the desks. I had to be at work by 3:30 and I didn’t want to show up late. The owner had been kind about giving me Christmas Eve off, the day I planned to go home and visit my father. I wished I could spend more than two days but while everyone else was enjoying the winter break, I would be back at work the day after Christmas.
Instead of wasting my time coming to the library and leaving empty-handed, I selected another text which had content on what I had been taught in Project Appraisal. I checked the table of contents and was satisfied it would suffice, then glanced at my watch again. Two-thirty already.
I walked briskly down three flights of stairs to the first floor and missed my step, seeing Lucas sitting idly by a computer desk. He glanced towards the stairs as though he was expecting someone, and I forgot for a minute how to descend a flight of stairs. I went down hard, wrenching my ankle, and had to clutch the bannister to keep from falling. I closed my eyes in mortification, hearing nothing but the beating of my heart and my thoughts.
Shit, did I have to make a fool of myself in front of him? As if he needs any more girls falling at his feet.
“I saw you almost fall, are you okay?”
I opened my eyes at the concerned voice to discover him hovering over me. Too close, too close, my body signaled to me but he was unstoppable as he took me by the arms and swung me down the rest of the stairs. He made it seem so easy. I assessed him from head to toe, taking note of his muscular arms in the short sleeves of his polo shirt. He had a big black sun-dial tattoo inside the lower portion of his arm that made me shiver. His chest was well-defined under his shirt. I remembered that from half-naked pictures of him modeling swimwear over a year ago. That was how I first knew about him. His photos had flashed all over social media and campus feeds.
His polo shirt was tucked into golf-shorts which bared his long, thick legs. He sported another tattoo on his right leg, an anchor. The place on my right hip where I’d gotten a tattoo of a humming bird last year burned now as I remembered. It was my little secret. Nobody knew about it. Certainly not my dad, or he would freak out.
Coming to the big city of Denver, that had been my father’s concern. That I would adopt city life and become someone else. Someone like my mother. I’d gotten the tattoo simply because I liked it and for no other reason, but if my Dad saw it, he would think differently. Though he was proud of my achievements, I sensed his disappointment at times that I’d headed for the big city once I finished high school instead of considering a local community college he’d wanted to pay for himself.
<
br /> “Are you okay?”
His repeated question finally hit home and I stepped back from him.
“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered with a smile. That one-hundred-watt smile made me weak-kneed.
“I-I’ve got to go sign out this book,” I mumbled and took a step back.
“Wait!”
“Huh?” I was thoroughly confused. What did he want?
He took a step which closed the distance between us. “I was wondering if you’d like to go get something to drink, eat, or grab a coffee? Anything really would be fine.”
I blinked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. It sounded like he was asking me out but I couldn’t believe it. Him and me? No way. To our left, there were some girls vying for his attention. Girls better suited to him with their fake lashes and silicone-enhanced boobs.
I recalled what he’d said to his friend when asked who I was. Nobody. I didn’t believe he meant to ask nobody out. Unless… I searched around me, trying to locate his posse, certain this had to be some cruel joke by them to make fun of me. But I didn’t see anyone else other than the usual patrons using the library.
Did that mean… The thought made me panic and I stepped back. No, no. I refused to believe it. A guy like Lucas didn’t go around asking a girl like me out.
“I have to go,” I stated, not able to hide the panic from my tone. I turned and headed towards the front desk, glad there was no one else in line.
While the borrowed book was being stamped, I glanced over my shoulder to where I’d left him and he still stood there, staring at me. I glanced away quickly, not wanting to give him ideas. I wasn’t gullible and I wouldn’t fawn over Lucas Caine. At least not in person.
“Thank you.” I nodded to the librarian and made for the door. I left the library without looking back at him and located my car parked in one of the lots used for student parking.
I winced when I spotted the old, dented Toyota, too banged up to have much use left in it. I probably would need a new car soon, but I hoped to get as much mileage out of it as possible. I couldn’t afford a new car right now and prayed it would last me another year. I highly doubted it. Somehow, I would have to scrape together the money to buy another used car but I didn’t see it happening until next summer.
I unlocked the door which groaned in protest when I opened it. Thank God, Lucas hadn’t followed me. Or maybe he should have followed me and taken a good look at the piece of metal crap I drove. That would have gotten him to quit trying to play with me. I knew guys like him. What had he done? Slept his way all around the campus and now looked for new challenges? Or did he perhaps think I would be flattered someone like him was talking to me and become an easy lay for him?
The joke was on him because there was nothing easy about me.
I jammed the key in the ignition a little harder than was necessary. It was a wonder it didn’t break inside but, as if to punish me, nothing happened when I turned the key. This was a common occurrence and it usually started after several attempts, but the key turned over and nothing. Not even a little sputter.
“Come on!” I cried in frustration, hitting the steering wheel with my hands. “Not today. Please.”
I got out the car and went to pop the hood, checking for anything that might be wrong. I smelled no suspicious odors but beyond that, I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t a mechanic. My father had taught me how to change the tires on a car which I could manage if the lugs weren’t too tight, but figuring out mechanical problems was beyond my expertise.
A group of three guys passed me, their arms around a girl each. They snickered at my car as they went by.
“Just throw that crap in the junkyard!” one of them called out and the others laughed.
I was hurt at their callous words. Did they think I would drive this car around if I could afford a better one? They could go to hell and take their opinions with them. I had my own worries without adding a few comments by young adults still acting like they were snotty-nosed brats on the playground.
The time on my watch showed it was almost three. I had to get to Lulu’s Diner and change into my uniform before my shift started. What should I do? I didn’t know anyone who could give me a lift. Whatever was wrong with the car, I didn’t even know if I could bring it in and have a professional look at it. With the little money I’d saved, I bought a laptop off eBay when mine stopped working and the money I had left was for my trip to my hometown, Pagosa Springs. The journey would last for a whole five hours and it was probably cheaper for me to fly, given the cost of gas, but I’d never flown before and I was terrified of the experience.
Tears pricked my eyes. I hated this. Hated that nothing ever went right for long. My father was looking forward to seeing me and I couldn’t wait to go back home and regroup. Though I’d never return to live in the small town with a population of under two thousand, it was a relaxing place to wind down and get away from the madness of city life.
God, sometimes I hated being poor.
Lucas
Minutes after she walked out the library, I stood staring in shock at the closed door she’d slipped through. I had great difficulty accepting she'd told me no. Didn't she know who I was? Didn't she know if I'd extended that invitation to any other girl on campus, they would have gladly let me take them out? Who the hell did she think she was, anyway?
As intrigued as I was by her, I wasn't a glutton for punishment. The next time I saw her, I would ignore her. My face reddened thinking about her refusal to grab a bite with me. Thank God nobody had witnessed that or it would be all over campus.
I walked over to the computer to log out of my Twitter account.
"Luke, this has got to be a first, seeing you in the library!"
I started to chuckle at my friend Wes who had walked in with a redhead on his arm, but the librarian shushed us. The girl on his arm had a great set of knockers and she gazed at Wes like the sun rose and set in him. If only she knew she could no sooner tame Wes than tame. a badger. It was impossible. Wes, like me, lived for the chase. At the age of twenty-two, we had no intention of being snagged by one woman. We had far more of an interesting time switching things up a bit.
"Checking my Twitter account," I answered, which was partly true anyway.
"That's what your phone's for." He grinned back at me, starting up the stairs with his arm around the redhead. "Knowing you, you were probably chasing tail."
No use either denying or confirming so I grinned at him. He allowed the girl to walk in front of him up the stairs and used his hands to carve out her body shape in the air, mimicking a thrusting motion of his pelvis. I laughed silently at his juvenile action when he winked at me then turned his attention fully to the redhead, a hand cupping her backside.
I knew exactly where they were going. On the fourth floor, there were several outdated books so it was hardly in use. It was a spot we used to charm the thong off a girl—those who wore any. From experience, there wasn't a lot a girl wouldn't do to be with a Caine. This Caine. I'd taken several girls back there between the bookshelves and, well, we hadn’t been studying.
Except for that one chick who had turned me down. My scowl returned as I left the library, the librarian giving me a disapproving look as though she knew my intention for being there wasn't about the books. Hmm, maybe I should spend less time chasing skirts and focus on my studies. But this was my final year. Final college parties. Final freedom before I would be sent to work for one of my father’s companies.
At the reminder of what awaited me after college, I badly needed a drink. I made for my car in the student parking lot, and the last person expected to see was her. I was irritated once more at the way she’d turned me down. I contemplated walking by her without so much as a word and I would have done it too if she hadn’t looked up and I saw the tears in her eyes and the frustrated look on her face.
Good God, if I had to drive a junk like that, I would be frustrated too. She stood besid
e the most pitiful-looking scrap of metal I’d ever seen. She had the hood up but didn’t look like she knew what was wrong or what to do. If she’d wanted my opinion, I would have told her to get rid of it and save herself the trouble, but she didn’t look like she could afford to get herself a new car.
I slowed my steps, cursing myself for interfering where it was obvious I wasn’t wanted or needed. Still, I couldn’t leave her there.
“Is everything okay?” I enquired, walking over to her car.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” she lied, turning away from me.
“It doesn’t look that way,” I refuted. “Car troubles?”
“I can manage.”
Damn, why was she so stubborn? Was it just me who prompted this response in her or was she always this prickly to people she didn’t know?
“Look, this has nothing to do with earlier,” I explained in exasperation. “I’m simply being a decent person and trying to offer you some assistance. You can take it or leave it, but it’s obvious something is wrong with your car. Do you want me to take a look at it?”
She stared at the hood of the car then lowered her head and gestured for me to examine the vehicle. I walked over to where she stood and she shuffled back as if she didn’t want to be anywhere close to me. Her actions became more and more irritating. What did she think I would do to her in the open, and in broad daylight, too?
“I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” she murmured.
I regarded her with a dubious expression. She didn’t know what was wrong? This car was a driving hazard, that was what was wrong. She had to be breaking several road code violations driving this pile of garbage around. But I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I poked around at the insides and noticed previous cheaply done repairs.