Fifteen minutes, exactly to the second. Only he was supposed to call Maggie, not the other way around. Wasn’t he?
Harland jumped from the bed, a look of eager anticipation on his face. “So is this the girlfriend? Go on, answer it.”
Dillon didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to. His thumb hovered the ‘ignore’ button, ready to press it. He could call Maggie back, explain what happened. Or at least make up an excuse. But he hesitated too long because Harland grabbed the phone and answered it, angling the screen so they were both visible to Maggie.
“Hey there sweet thing.”
Maggie leaned back, her brows lowering into a frown behind her glasses as she glared at the screen. “Excuse me?”
“Not exactly what I imagined.” Harland elbowed Dillon in the side with a quick wink. “But cute enough. Are you sure she’s old enough for you, Frayser? She looks a little young.”
Dillon made a grab for the phone but Harland pulled it away with a chuckle. “Come on, man. Give it to me.”
“Not a chance. Not until you introduce me to your underage girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend? Underage?” Maggie’s voice came out in a squeak. Dillon hurried to Harland’s side, needing to see her face. No, he needed her to see his face, in the hopes she would pick up his silent message and not say anything.
“She’s not underage.” Hell, he didn’t think she was. Was she? It had never come up in conversation. No, she couldn’t be. She was tutoring, for shit’s sake. Of course she wasn’t underage.
“No, I’m definitely not underage.” There was an uncertain edge to her voice, along with a little stubbornness. Her eyes darted to him then back to Harland. “And who are you, anyway?”
“I’m the hot player who’s going to steal you away from this too-intense guy here who’s about to slug me.” Harland laughed and stepped to the side as Dillon made a grab for the phone.
“Harland, come on, man. You’re not funny.”
“No, you’re really not.” Maggie’s voice was faint but Dillon still caught the impatience lacing her words. He held his breath, wondering what she’d say next. There was no reason for her not to tell Harland the truth—
“I happen to like my men intense. And honestly, he’s hotter than you. Now if you don’t mind?”
“Whoa! I guess you put me in my place. I think I like you. Fine, here’s lover boy. But we’re definitely going to meet. In person.” Harland winked at the screen then tossed the phone to Dillon. He nearly dropped it and had to fumble for it before it hit the floor. Maggie’s face filled the screen. Color bloomed on her cheeks and her brows were raised in surprise. And yes, he could see a sparkle in the brown eyes behind the glasses.
“I guess this isn’t a good time?”
“Uh, no. Sorry. I tried—”
“It’s okay. Call me when you can, we can go everything later.”
“Yeah, sure.” He saw her lean toward the screen, a sure sign she was ready to disconnect. “Maggie?”
She paused, her eyes darting to his. “Yeah?”
“Sorry. And, uh, thanks.”
“Yeah. We’ll talk later, okay?”
Dillon nodded, hearing the warning under the words. The screen went blank once more and he tossed the phone to the bed, then turned to face Harland. “What the hell is your problem?”
“What?”
“What? You don’t do shit like that.”
Harland brushed him off and moved to the closet, shrugging out of his suit. “You’re overreacting. I was just having some fun.”
“Well stop. It’s not funny. And one of these days you’re going to go overboard and push the wrong person too far.”
“Lighten up. Christ. It was just a little harmless fun. You’re too fucking serious.”
“And you’re not serious enough. What the hell has gotten into you lately?”
“Nothing.” A shadow passed across his face, quickly replaced by a forced smile. “Just having fun. Enjoying life. All that happy shit.”
“Harland, if something’s going on—”
“Nothing’s going on.” He jerked a polo shirt over his head then moved to the door. “Do you want to go out or not?”
“No. No, I have things to do.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll catch you tonight.” The door closed behind him with a loud click. Dillon stared at it for several long minutes then moved to his overnight bag and reached into the bottom. His fingers closed around the text book and he pulled it out then settled back on the bed.
He’d go over the last chapter then call Maggie back for their tutoring session. And to answer whatever questions he was certain she was going to ask.
Chapter Seven
“Why are you zoning out?”
“Hm?”
“You’re zoning out. Totally.”
Maggie blinked and pulled her gaze away from Slinky’s cage. She pushed the glasses up her nose with a quick stab of her finger then let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t zoning. I was watching Slinky sleep.”
“You were totally zoning.” Cindy flopped down into the oversized sac pillow with a dramatic sigh then giggled. “I think you have a crush.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nobody to have a crush on.”
“Then why were you zoning?”
“I told you, I wasn’t zoning.” Maggie turned toward the desk and pretended to straighten the paperwork scattered over the marred surface. “I was deep in thought.”
“About?”
“Nothing. Stuff.”
“Which is it?”
“Neither. Both. Cripes, I don’t know. Why are you so worried about it?”
“I’m not. It’s just not like you. I mean yeah, you zone out when you’re working. But you have a different look on your face when you work-zone.”
“What? I do not. And I definitely don’t ‘zone’ when I’m working.”
“Yeah you do. All the time.” Cindy straightened in the sac and leaned forward, her face scrunching up into a comical expression, almost like she was in pain. “You look like this, all focused and completely out of it. Like you’re in a different world.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “If I actually look like that when I’m working, please shoot me next time. That’s hideous.”
“Whatever.” Cindy waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “It doesn’t matter because that’s not how you just looked when I walked in. You know? Like, when I walked in and stood in front of you for five minutes and you totally didn’t even know I was here.”
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Is he about six-two with thick gorgeous hair and to-die-for hazel eyes that can see deep into your soul?”
“Oh please. You are totally in the wrong field. You should have taken up drama.”
Cindy laughed again then shifted once more in the oversized pillow chair, this time folding her legs under her in a pseudo-yoga pose that looked painfully uncomfortable. “Admit it. You were thinking about Dillon.”
Maggie would admit no such thing—especially because it was true. And not in the way Cindy meant, either. Well, mostly not. She wasn’t thinking about him as much as she was trying to analyze what had happened the other day during the disastrous call. Okay, maybe not disastrous. But she couldn’t think of another word to describe it.
Except disastrous actually did a pretty good job of describing her reaction. It had been silly and juvenile and immature and totally out of character. She knew why he had told his friend she was his girlfriend: because for some insane reason, he was embarrassed to admit what he was doing, and why. On the most basic level, she actually mostly kind of understood that. She didn’t agree with it, but she understood it. But to call her his girlfriend?
And then for her to have that silly reaction? She had actually blushed! And a funny little quiver had made her stomach dance. Stupid. So stupid. She didn’t fall for jocks.
More importantly, jocks didn’t fall for geeks. Not geeks like her. Hadn’t she learned th
at lesson already? Yes, she had. Painfully so.
Which only made her silly reactions confuse her more.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Zoning out. You’re doing it again.”
“I told you, I was just thinking.”
“I know you are. About Dillon.”
“No, not about him.”
“Um. Hello? Besties? Yeah you are. I can tell. I know you, remember?”
Maggie leaned back in the swivel chair and propped her feet on the edge of the desk. Not the most lady-like pose but it was comfortable. She made a noncommittal murmur and ran the palms of her hands down the soft fabric of her leggings. Back and forth, back and forth, her fingers distorting the wildly colored geometric patterns. She blinked and shook her head, then crossed her arms in front of her.
“Okay. So maybe I was thinking about him. A little. But not like how you think.”
“Then how?”
Should she tell Cindy about the phone conversation? It was so silly. And he hadn’t said anything about it when they talked an hour later—although she had to admit he had looked wary. And embarrassed. Maybe. But definitely wary, like he was waiting for her to bring it up and maybe admonish him or something.
But he hadn’t been the only one embarrassed and she figured that maybe if they both ignored it, the whole thing would go away. She knew she was overreacting. She knew why he had said it.
But she still couldn’t get over that silly little quivering jump that came to life in her stomach when he’d introduced her as his girlfriend.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Ohmygod. For someone who’s borderline genius, you can be so stupid sometimes. How were you thinking about him? You know, that hot and cute and totally adorable hockey player you keep pretending doesn’t exist?”
“I actually called him ‘hot’.” The confession left her mouth before she even knew the words were forming and she immediately wished she could call them back. Especially when Cindy made a high-pitched squeal of excitement and waved her legs in the air.
“No. Way. Ohmygod. I knew it. I knew you liked him!”
“I never said I liked him.”
“You called him ‘hot’. That means you like him! So, details. What happened? What did he do when you told him he was hot?”
“I didn’t tell him. Well, not exactly. I told a friend of his. A teammate, I think. But he was standing right there so I know he heard.”
“What? Ohmygod, what haven’t you told me? We’re besties, you’re not supposed to keep things from me! Okay, out with it. I want to know everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell. We were supposed to have a tutoring session but we had to do it on the phone because he was away for a game or something. Only when I called him back, one of his teammates took his phone and started talking.” Maggie frowned, recalling the conversation. It still bothered her that the guy thought she was underage. She knew she looked younger than she was but underage? Really?
“Okay. And? Why does that bother you?”
Maggie shook her head, still frowning. “Do I look underage to you?”
“What?”
“Nothing, never mind. Anyway, I guess Dillon is embarrassed or whatever so he told the guy I was his girlfriend. And the guy said something about stealing me away and called himself ‘hot’ and that’s when I said Dillon was hotter.”
Silence greeted her rapid confession. Maggie’s glance darted to Cindy and froze. Her friend was still sitting in that awkward curled pose but she wasn’t moving. Not even blinking. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. For a brief second, Maggie wondered if maybe her friend was doing some serious zoning of her own. Or maybe time had actually stopped and everything around her was frozen.
Or maybe she had just really stunned her best friend.
Yes, definitely the latter. A split second passed and then another loud squeal erupted from Cindy’s mouth. She bounced in the seat, her arms flailing up and down at her sides.
“He called you his girlfriend? No. Freaking. Way. Oh, this is so cool! I knew it! I knew you guys would fall for each other and have a whirlwind romance and live happily ever—”
“Don’t even say that!” Maggie held her hand out in the universal ‘stop’ sign. “No. Don’t go there. It is so not like that. Not even close.”
“But he called you—”
“I know what he called me. Trust me, he didn’t mean it. I told you, he’s just embarrassed and didn’t want that other guy to know I was his tutor. So don’t read into anything.”
“But you said you called him ‘hot’.”
“It was a slip, nothing more.”
“You never slip. Never ever. Not once in all the years I’ve known you, so I’m not buying it.”
“So then I was just playing along with his game. Don’t read into it.”
“Fine. I think you’re delusional but whatever.” Cindy finally uncurled her legs, bounced into a new position, then rested her chin on one fist. “So what did he say after that?”
“After what?”
“Wow. You really are being thick. What did he say after he called you his girlfriend and you called him hot?”
“Nothing. We both hung up and when I talked to him again, we just went over the lesson.”
“That’s it?”
“Of course that’s it. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. That maybe he’d ask you out or something.”
“Don’t be silly. That’s not going to happen and you know it.”
“It’s not silly and it could happen. Why do you always get so down on yourself?”
“Because jocks don’t fall for geeks. We both know that.”
“Why are you letting what that jerk did to you in high school still get to you?”
“Um, I’m sorry. How can I not let it get to me? I was sixteen and he slayed me.”
“He didn’t ‘slay’ you.” Cindy frowned. “Well, okay, maybe he did. But that was six years ago. And he was a jerk.”
“I was impressionable.”
“You were naïve. We both were.”
“Whatever.” Maggie waved her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that nothing is going to happen with Dillon so stop convincing yourself it is.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do.” Maggie’s phone alarm chirped and she turned to shut it off with a sigh. How had she lost track of so much time?
Because Cindy was right: she had been zoning. She should have been working, instead. Now she’d have to stay up late—which was exactly what she deserved for being so silly.
She dropped her feet to the floor and pushed up from the chair. The bell on Slinky’s collar tinkled as she came awake, her lithe body uncurling from the bed. The ferret blinked then focused her dark eyes on Maggie as she approached the cage.
“Come on, Sleepy Head. Time to go.” Maggie unlocked the cage and held her hand out, waiting for Slinky to move up the ramp.
“Where are you off to now?”
“I’ve got some lab work to do, then a staff meeting, then back here to work on some reports.”
“Did you want to go grab dinner later?”
“Maybe. Probably not. If I don’t get those reports done tonight, they’re going to be late.” Maggie placed the harness over Slinky’s head, smiling when she darted up her arm to rest on her shoulder.
“You have no life.”
“I have plenty of life.”
“Okay, you have no excitement in your life.”
“Yes, I do. I have my work and I have Slinky. And you. What more do I need?”
“Um, maybe a social life? A boyfriend? Some fun?”
“I have plenty of fun. I have to get going. Lock up when you leave?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cindy sunk deeper into the sac chair and grabbed her e-reader from the bag next to her. Why she couldn’t read in her own place across the hall was one of life�
�s greatest mysteries.
Cindy looked up, her eyes narrowed at Maggie. “I’ll pick up a pizza and bring it by later. And don’t say a word. I don’t care how busy you are, you still need to eat.”
“Fine. Pizza. But that’s it.”
“Be careful, Maggie, you don’t want to overwhelm yourself with all the excitement.”
“I told you, I have plenty of excitement.” Maggie waited for Slinky to settle into the coat pocket then headed out the door, ignoring Cindy’s muttered reply.
Cindy was wrong: Maggie really did have plenty of excitement in her life. And she wasn’t just saying that to convince herself.
She really wasn’t.
Chapter Eight
Dillon slammed his hand down on his knee, forcing his foot to stop bouncing. Maggie glanced over at him, her eyes slightly unfocused behind her glasses. She was wearing a different pair today, the lenses smaller and surrounded by dark frames. They made her look a little older. More studious, like she was a real professor or something. He thought they looked good on her and he was about to say that, then clamped his mouth down.
She blinked, twice, then shook her head. Was that a good sign? A bad sign? Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all.
He swallowed and nodded toward the papers spread in front of her, especially the one she had been busy studying before his foot started tapping so hard his knee had banged into the table.
“Well? How bad is it?”
Disappointment swept through him when she didn’t answer right away. She wouldn’t even look at him. Well fuck. He didn’t think he had done that bad. In fact, he actually thought the test had been easy. Easier than he expected, anyway. That’s what he got for overestimating himself.
She looked away and reached for a pen, her fingers curling around the marker. A streak of red marred her index finger when she grabbed it and she frowned before mumbling something as she picked it up.
A red pen. Dillon hated red pens. Weren’t teachers supposed to use something besides red now, because red was so negative? And great, now he was sounding like a little kid, whining because his feelings were hurt.
Maggie made a few marks on the sheet then looked over at him, her face completely blank. She slid the paper across the table, the tip of her index finger hiding whatever she had scrawled in the top corner. Dillon glanced down at the paper then up at her.
One-Timer (The Baltimore Banners Book 9) Page 5