Loch (The Powers That Be Book 3)

by Harper Bentley

  I cocked my head letting her know I wasn’t ready to go there any time too soon after the debacle with Loch.

  “You do. And honestly, if you really do like Loch, I think you should go for it.”

  I shook my head. “Not happening.” I walked past her to go to my room and get dressed.

  “Just follow your heart!” she called after me.

  I huffed out a humorless laugh at that. After what had gone down, I’d put my heart on moratorium for now and I wasn’t too fired up to end it.

  So as far as I was concerned, Loch Powers would just have to be a lesson learned.

  ~*~*~*~

  My shift at Game Traders was from noon to six which was when the store closed on Sundays. I knew neither Thorne nor Griffin would be in because they’d told us once that “Saturday nights are for bonging out” and they needed Sunday to recuperate. I hadn’t looked at the schedule last night before I left, so I wasn’t sure who I’d be working with today.

  “Don’t be Dakota, don’t be Dakota,” I whispered as I signaled to turn off the street into the store’s parking lot. I just wasn’t in the mood to hear about how he’d nailed Darian last night or any other disgusting crap he’d try sharing. Pulling into the lot behind the store, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw that Vegas was waiting at the back door and smoking a cigarette.

  “Those’ll stunt your growth,” I scolded as I dug my keys out of my purse as I walked toward him.

  “Haven’t had any complaints,” he muttered taking a last drag before flicking the cigarette away.

  Of course he made it sexual and I didn’t have any smartassed comeback so I remained silent. But now I realized I was in a bad mood from thinking on my drive over about just being friends with Loch, knowing I didn’t want to just be friends with him. I wanted to be with him. I unlocked the door and went inside, flipping on the lights as I did while Vegas followed.

  “You okay?” he asked, leaning against the jamb of the office door and throwing me a concerned look.

  “Fine,” I mumbled, unlocking the office.

  “Fuck,” I heard him say as I went inside to open the safe.

  I turned to look at him, lifting an eyebrow, crossing my arms and cocking one hip out in my I’m-not-putting-up-with-any-crap-today pose. “What?”

  His posture mirrored mine. Well, instead of his hip, he cocked his head to the side but also crossed his arms over his chest. “When a woman says, ‘Fine,’ that means the total fuckin’ opposite of fine. That means a shitstorm’s brewing and heads are fixin’ to roll.”

  I glared at him. “’Fixin’ to’?”

  He shook his head and I saw one side of his mouth tip up. “Point proven.”

  My glare turned to a glower. “Men are assholes.” I knelt down to open the safe, pulling the money bag out then stood and passed by him not bothering to give him another look.

  “I’m gatherin’ things didn’t go well with your man last night.” He’d followed me to the counter.

  As I opened the register, I ground out, “He’s not my man.”

  “So what happened?”

  I stopped putting the money in and gave him a look. “Swear to God, Vegas, I love you, but you need to stop talking before I pull a Ronda Rousey on your ass.”

  He started laughing and when he didn’t stop I turned to stare icily at him. This only made him laugh harder.

  “Jerk,” I muttered as I walked by him, bumping my shoulder into him threateningly which now made him howl with laughter. I stomped to the front door to unlock it then to the shelves to do some straightening, but since I’d just straightened them the night before, there wasn’t much to do. I went back to the counter thinking maybe I could rearrange the display inside.

  “Come play some Mario Kart with me,” Vegas hollered from the front. “I’ll even let you win a game.”

  Now, Mario Kart I could do and he knew this. He also knew by goading me with trash talking he could entice me to play.

  So of course, I fell for it. “Let me win? Please.” I joined him, flopping down into one of the huge beanbags beside him and he handed me a controller.

  We played for almost six hours straight, smack talking each other the whole time, naturally stopping when customers came in, and to be honest, it was the best therapy ever because I found myself rarely thinking about the mess I’d made. Kudos to Mario!

  When it was six, we shut everything down and headed out.

  “Still tied,” Vegas said as we went out the back.

  “Yep.” I locked the back door then retorted, “Only because you let me win.” That was a lie and he knew it. I could hold my own with that game for sure and probably could’ve taken him, but again we’d decided to keep it even.

  He chuckled as we walked to our cars. “Nah. It’s because you let me win.”

  “I was feeling pretty magnanimous today,” I replied with a snort.

  “’Least you’re in a better mood now.”

  I had a hand on my Jeep’s door when I felt my shoulders fall because what he said only served to remind me that my life was a total dung-hole right now.

  “Fuck,” he echoed his comment from when we’d first gotten to work. “Sorry, Sim. Goddamn it.”

  I looked at him and stood up straight. “You know what, V? It’s okay. I’m tired of being a mopey drama queen. I’m over it.” I smiled at him to prove it. Mom had always said, “Fake it ‘til you make it” and I was going to put that advice to use, so sick of being a sad sack. “And I’m swearing off men at least until this semester is over.”

  He eyed me for a second waiting for me to break, I guess, but when I didn’t, he smiled back. “Thatta girl. ‘Kay, see you, what, Wednesday?”

  “Yep. Be good.”

  “Tall order,” he mumbled before he got in his Torino and fired it up. Jesus, that thing was loud.

  He waited until I pulled out and gave him a wave before he put it in gear, following me out of the lot. Then I turned right and he turned left and that was that.

  Confession Number Ten

  Monday morning I was up and out the door before Marcy even got out of the shower. I’d decided that all the sulking I’d been doing was ridiculous, I was done with it and I was ready for the new day.

  I’d called Mom when I got home from work last night and she set me back on track after I had a long talk with her about everything. She’d admonished me for keeping what’d happened at the sixth grade dance from her and Dad, but otherwise, she’d supported me in everything else I told her.

  “You have to believe in yourself, Simone, before anyone else will,” she’d told me. And when I’d told her about Marcy and my pitiful plan to hurt Loch like he’d hurt me, she’d advised, “La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid.”

  Revenge is a dish best served cold.

  Then she’d explained, “Most people think that means to wait until you’re no longer upset so you can think clearly on how to get proper revenge on someone, while others think it means to wait until the person least expects it. But the way I interpret it is that if you wait, you’ll come to realize that seeking revenge just isn’t worth it.”

  And I so loved her for not saying right after that, “So was it worth it?”

  But, man, was she ever right. It was definitely not worth it. At all.

  After we’d said our I love yous and hung up, I’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep for a change.

  Thank you, Mom. Gosh, just talking to her had helped me put things into perspective and get my head on right and I felt a kabillion times better about everything.

  So here it was Monday morning and I felt like myself again, not bogged down in all the yuckiness I’d been feeling after running into Loch. Who would’ve thought so much could happen in just one weekend. Jeez. But even though my confidence had made a comeback, as I got closer to campus, I panicked just a bit knowing I’d see him in class and I wasn’t sure how it wo
uld go. I didn’t think he’d cause a scene but I didn’t know him well enough to make that call.

  I went inside Noble Hall and walked to my classroom keeping my eyes down and making sure not to look around so I’d avoid the risk of seeing him. Inside the classroom, I walked straight to the same seat I’d sat in both days last week and finally had to laugh at myself for how serious I’d been taking myself. Jesus. I was behaving like a Russian spy in some political thriller. Next thing you know, I’d be doing somersaults then plastering myself to the walls as I made my way around campus.

  I was still chuckling when I put my bag down and noticed that Cute Guy’s girlfriend had traded places with him so he wouldn’t be sitting by me anymore. The snitty look she gave me when I sat down made me bite my lips to keep the cackle I wanted to blast at her in.

  I wished I could tell her there was no way in hell I was a threat since I was finished with guys for a while, but she looked like she needed to eat a cheeseburger and I didn’t want to deal with a grumpy undereater chewing me out, so I let it go. Anyway, Dr. Lykins came in just then and jumped right into inductive proofs, and let the note-taking begin.

  Things were good. I maintained focus on the lecture and my notes until midway through class when Dr. Lykins stopped to mess with his laptop to pull up an illustration on the Smart Board. And there was that feeling like I was being watched. I resisted for as long as I could, probably a good twenty seconds (yeah, I know, whoop-ti-do), before I looked to my left to see Loch smirking at me. When my eyes got big, his smirk did the same, and I turned to face the front again.

  Hm. Maybe he wasn’t mad after all. He was smirking which was kind of a smile, right? I ventured another glance at him to see him talking to the girl next to him who was giggling at something he was saying. He was talking animatedly, using his hands and I narrowed my eyes, wondering what he was talking about.

  Then he looked back at me and so did the girl (EEP!) and I didn’t know what his expression was saying. He wasn’t smiling but he also wasn’t frowning. It didn’t look like indifference, thank God, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. The girl was letting it all hang out though, squinting at me, examining me like I was an insect under a magnifying glass and she didn’t look happy.

  Great. We were back to sixth grade again. He’d told her what I’d done and was spreading it around. Nice.

  I looked away just as Dr. Lykins got the board working, so picking up my pencil I flipped the page in my notebook to begin the task of transcribing his words once again. I still felt eyes on me. Still wondered what he’d said. But I let it go and got lost in the world of loop invariants.

  When we were dismissed, I packed up my things then made my way to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Loch was still standing at his table talking to a guy so I hurried out. He and I had the next two classes together so maybe if I got inside quickly I could get somewhere I didn’t have to look at him.

  As I walked across campus, I noticed that the trees were particularly beautiful right now, their leaves just starting to turn the lovely colors of fall. In a month they’d be breathtaking with their gorgeous displays of color. I really loved Hallervan’s campus with its abundance of Japanese maples whose leaves would soon be stunning. The landscaping all across the quad was lovely with the multitude of flowerbeds filled with poppies, asters and dahlias. I was enjoying my walk until I heard two guys talking behind me.

  “She’s fuckin’ hot, dude. I don’t care if she’s a bitch, you need to tap that immediately,” one guy said.

  “She’s definitely a bitch but look at that ass, man, all heart-shaped and just begging for me to sink my teeth into it,” the other guy replied.

  Shit. Loch was behind me and I was pretty sure he was talking about me.

  I clenched my fists and spun around to give him a big fat piece of my mind and just as I opened my mouth to spew a salvo of such vitriol at him he wouldn’t know what hit him, I saw two guys I didn’t know looking at the phone one of them was holding up as they walked.

  Oh.

  They passed by me with nary a glance as one guy told the other he needed to “get in there and bang the shit out of her.”

  I huffed out a (kind of disgusted) laugh, rolling my eyes as I did, but the amusing moment didn’t last because behind them, I saw walking right toward me with what I can only describe as a fierce-as-hell look, was Loch, the perma-smirk in full force as he looked my way.

  Crap.

  I spun on my heel and walked quickly to my next class wanting to cover my ears as I heard his amused chuckle. Jeez.

  I made it to class and managed to avoid looking at him even when he now walked in with two pretty blondes who were fawning all over him. I could hear what they were saying to him through hushed giggles and I think part of my breakfast came up.

  “Loch, you’re so muscular! You would totally be the star of any sport you played here!” Thing One said.

  “Oh, my gawd! You look just like that Canadian model actor guy! I thought he was hot but you’re so much hotter!” That would be Thing Two putting in her two cents.

  Seriously? Was this really happening? It was like Loch was living in a real-live 1950s beach blanket movie.

  And not to be a snob, well, yeah, I was definitely being a snob, but surely these girls weren’t computer majors. My eyes went to the ceiling as I waited for the professor to come in and end the madness.

  I waited until Loch and his entourage left when class ended before I followed, staying at least twenty yards behind but had to stop when one of the Doublemint Twins stopped and turned a pouty face to Loch. I watched as he knelt down in front of her, took off her stiletto, checked her foot then slipped the shoe back on grinning up at her. Well, wasn’t he the gentleman? I rolled my eyes when she said something about being just like Cinderella. Ergh.

  Walking into my next class I saw the Bobbsey Twins sitting on either side of Loch in the front row. Studiously keeping my eyes off them, I went and sat, again managing not to glance their way. Well, that is until in the middle of class, one of the girls raised her hand.

  “Um, Professor Stowe? I moved from the dorm to an apartment yesterday. I haven’t turned on my laptop yet. Will all my programs still be on it even if it’s not using the campus’s wifi now?”

  Holy smokes.

  Definitely not a computer major. I listened as everyone chuckled as Dr. Stowe assured her the programs would be there.

  Huh.

  When class was finally over I gave a sigh, glad I no longer had to avert my eyes away from Loch and the Sweet Valley Twins. They’d already left anyway, so gathering my things I left the classroom and walked down the hall and out the front doors of South Hall. As I started toward the stairs, I came up short when I saw Loch (minus his admirers), leaning a shoulder against one of the big columns in front, backpack at his feet, arms and ankles crossed and eyes narrowed on me.

  He really was handsome and did resemble that model guy, maybe even looked better.

  Too bad I’d screwed it all up between us because I’d really liked him.

  Anyway, since he was alone, I thought now would be the perfect time for me to apologize, lay it all out there and let him know that what I had planned to do to him was horrible. So mustering every ounce of courage I had, I walked his way seeing that his golden eyes stayed locked on me, so intense and dark and I swear my blood pressure shot up to What the hell are you doing? over Are You Trying to Get Us Killed?

  When I got within ten feet of him and just as I opened my mouth to tell him I was sorry, a guy came out of the building and hollered, “Yo, Loch! Thanks for waiting, bro.”

  I turned in an arc, tilting my head to the side and veering away from him toward the steps as if that was my intention the entire time, clutching my bag to my chest and trying to keep my heart from flopping out right there onto the sidewalk. Then I hightailed it the heck out of there and kept walking fast toward the parking lot on the other
side of campus without a look back.

  Confession Number Eleven

  On Wednesday, Loch followed me again to our second class, this time without his dazzling duo (who I noticed weren’t in class either so they probably weren’t computer majors just fans of his which made me roll my eyes) then he once again followed as we walked to our third class.

  I tried approaching him after our last class but he walked out with several guys so I didn’t want to bother him. I know. I was chickenshit. But Wednesday night I decided I’d let things go too long, not to mention the guilt was killing me, so I thought it best to send him a friendly text. You know, break the ice a bit then I’d ask if I could call him where I’d finally get around to apologizing. That was the plan anyway.

  Text Message—Wed, Aug. 20, 10:34 p.m.

  Me: Hi

  Of course, he didn’t answer.

  Text Message—Wed, Aug. 20 10:45 p.m.

  Me: Can I call you?

  He still wasn’t answering, but I’d known I’d have to work at it.

  Text Message—Wed, Aug. 20, 10:57 p.m.

  Me: I wanted to talk to you to tell you how sorry I am for what I did

  When he still hadn’t answered more than twenty minutes later, I gave up.

  Text Message—Wed, Aug. 20, 11:26 p.m.

  Me: Okay. I know you’re still mad and you have every right to be. Just know that I’m going to keep texting you until you answer… and I’ve been told that I’m very persistent so there’s your warning. I guess I’ll try again later. Bye…

  So there it was.

  He wasn’t talking to me because I’m sure he hated me or at best was finished with me, so all I could do was keep trying to contact him, maybe catch him on a good day and he’d let me do my thing. But what did it matter? He’d already moved on anyway, first with the woman the night he’d called me drunk saying I should’ve been there instead of her, then today with his pair of groveling groupies.

  I lay there a little frustrated. Okay, a lot frustrated because I needed to do this. I had to tell him what an ass I’d been. Then I felt like an even bigger ass because I knew that part of the reason I wanted to apologize was so that I’d feel better about myself.