Disobeying Him

by M. K. Hale

  “I know!” She took my discomfort to mean I wanted to hear even more. “A couple of us tried to get with him last semester, but he doesn’t sleep with his residents. It’s one of his rules.”

  Jennifer jumped in with more Nate knowledge. “You know how he handed out rules for the dorm? Well, he has a whole other list of rules for himself. I bet he has it printed on his walls somewhere.”

  She was wrong there. My eyes had taken in everything there was to see on the surface of Nate’s room. Maybe I needed another visit.

  “Do you know anything that’s on it?”

  Mackenzie snorted again. “Nate’s a fucking mystery. The only rule we know is he never stays out later than ten o’clock at night.”

  “So he lives life like it’s a planned calendar and never loses control.” I summarized all I had gotten from them. “He sounds like a robot.”

  I would help him lose control and live life. I would not go near his sex life, but I could help him be a bit more spontaneous. A smile stretched my lips as I thought about making him lose control.

  “Robot, huh?” Sheila giggled. “Well, I have it on good authority that the man is a machine.”

  I should not have been grinning, but my lips refused to uncurl themselves as I turned on my music in my room that night. I wanted to draw Nate out. Mess with the bull and get the horns. I told myself it was because I needed to learn more about him for my paper. The loud knocking on my door a minute after the first song started playing made me smile so hard, it hurt.

  I opened the door, feigning surprise. “Control freak.”

  He already pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit of his. Anticipating my difficultness? How interesting. “Allie.”

  His dark hair hung down in front of his piercing blue eyes, and I wanted to push it back, out of his beautiful face. His new black shirt fit him well. Really well. Still would have looked better on the floor, though.

  “What brings you over, neighbor? Need to borrow a cup of sugar?” I walked farther inside my room, gesturing for him to follow. I bent over and cracked open the fridge. “Would you like a drink?” I listed what I had. “Coffee?” He glared at me. “Tea?” I could not help myself. “Me?”

  “No loud music. Rule number—”

  “Five,” I finished for him.

  His eyes widened. Impressed with my knowledge of the rules? “Look, apparently we’re neighbors who share a wall, and I’m extremely busy and cannot even begin to focus when I can’t hear myself think.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” I commented. He appeared insulted, so I explained myself, “Sometimes it’s good to not be able to think. There’s a peace in silence and in chaos.” Don’t worry, I’ll show you.

  “Lower your music. This is the last time I’m going to ask.”

  “You’ve been asking this whole time?” A genuine chuckle rose from deep in my chest. “You do know questions and demands are two different things?” Maybe this demanding side also came from his wealthy background. A bit spoiled, Mr. Reddington?

  A moment passed as he just stared at me like I was crazy. “Why are you not following the rules?”

  “Why are you always enforcing them?” I stepped closer to him. Okay, Allie. Time to learn some information. “I’ve heard you even have rules for yourself. Want to share them?”

  “Why are you doing this?” he rasped, frustrated. It appeared he had never had someone question his methods. He had probably also heard the word “yes,” and never “why.” Well, I would have fun teaching him. Poor guy.

  “I want to learn more about you,” I explained.

  “To use against me?”

  “No.” I tilted my head and analyzed him. “Is that why you’re so jaded? Someone once got close and learned too much?” He was in college; how could he have so much experience in being duped? A bit of guilt trickled into me as I tried to find out more for a paper. Then again, I did this to help him. Once both of us revealed his bigger issue, he could move on to live a happier and healthier life. “Oh, have you ever been blackmailed?”

  “Stop it,” he grated, his expression darkening.

  “What?”

  He stepped forward, closing in on me, until his breath caressed my cheek. “Stop trying to figure me out,” he said against my ear, and little shocks of electricity shot down my neck. He smelled like apples. A sexy fruit salad. “I’m not some subject for your amusement.”

  “Good, because I’m not amused by you.” I was aroused by him, but that was a whole other matter.

  He leaned away from me and met my gaze. “Turn your music down.”

  “Tell me why you have so many rules.”

  He scowled, offering no response.

  I turned down the volume on my speakers until it was audible as a low background tone. He nodded at my doing what he asked and spun around to leave.

  “I did what you wanted. Aren’t you going to answer one of my questions?”

  He stood very still. With my music quieted, I could almost make out the sound of his breathing in my small room. Then he said, one hand on the doorknob, eyes on his exit, “Some things aren’t meant to be broken.”

  Chapter 4

  Allie:

  * * *

  “I love you, Allie,” Logan whispered in my ear, his arms wrapping around my waist. It felt so natural, so familiar, and yet so utterly wrong. “We belong together. Don’t you see that?” I wanted to shout “no” but my mouth wouldn’t open.

  A noise erupted from the back of my throat as I fought to push myself away from him. My struggle did nothing. He held on tight.

  “Just don’t leave.” His fingernails dug into my arms. “Please, don’t leave. If you leave, I don’t know what I’ll—”

  My body jolted awake from the dream. I blinked again and again until I saw I lay in my dorm room. Deep breath. The dreams had started again. Hadn’t I locked Logan out of my mind? Four successful months of sleep without a nightmare. So why now?

  I thought I had moved on. I thought I had adjusted. I thought I had healed.

  Envisioning a safe in my mind, I pushed thoughts of Logan into it, locking it and throwing away the key.

  Instead of dwelling, I rushed into clothes and speed walked to my first class of women’s history. What I found there shocked me more than my reoccurring nightmare.

  “No fucking way,” he mumbled as I sat next to him.

  Who knew Nate Reddington of the Reddingtons would be in my women’s history class?

  Talking to him served as the perfect distraction from my rough morning.

  He looked good. His dark, form-fitting shirt stretched over muscles, firm pecs, and strong biceps. My mouth watered at the sight of him. His hair had a sexy disheveled look to it like someone had been running her fingers through it all morning. The thought of someone else touching his hair left a sour taste in my mouth.

  I tried to suppress my smile when he saw me and glared. What was the first rule of college classes? Sit next to people, you know? I chose the seat right next to him. He was too fascinating to stay away from.

  The way a vein in his forehead popped out in anger after I put my binder down was far too amusing. How was he so annoyed by me? Yes, I pushed his buttons, but for scientific reasons. Not that he knew that.

  He drew me to him like a chemist to a newfound element.

  I nodded at him. “Control freak.” My relaxed state seemed to cause him more agitation.

  “Red,” he called me through his grinding teeth.

  My eyebrows rose. “Red?” The tips of my hair were dyed red, and I wore the color often, but was it enough to warrant a nickname? “Because when you see me your heart beats faster?”

  “Excuse me?”

  If I was “Red,” then he was a bull, and I would have fun playing with him. “I’m trying to understand the nickname. A fact about red is that when people see it, it can often cause an increase in heart rate.”

  “That’s not what I meant—”

  “Or maybe you’ve taken Russian
, in which case you would know that red contains the root word for beautiful, and you would be complimenting me on my physical appearance.”

  “Stop.”

  “Ah, you called me Red because it reminds you of a stop sign?”

  “Got it, no more nicknames.” He sighed and picked up his pen as if he were impatient for the class to start so he would not have to continue speaking to me. “I will call you Allie and nothing else.”

  I pouted my lips. His gaze dropped to them before meeting my eyes again. “Well, that’s no fun.”

  “Neither am I. If you’re looking for a more entertaining classmate to sit next to, I suggest choosing someone else.”

  “I find you very entertaining,” I said. He shot me a look of disbelief. “I do.”

  “Sure.” Nate sounded doubtful.

  Interesting. He was insecure about his interpersonal skills? Was that why he continued attempting to push me away? “Do you have friends?” I asked.

  He twitched in his seat at my bluntness. “Excuse me?”

  I added, “I think you distance yourself from other people.” I related to that.

  “I have friends.” He appeared offended. “More than you.”

  “I’ve started making some.”

  He huffed under his breath. “Jennifer and the others aren’t good friends to make.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “If you’re smart, you’ll stay away and find real friends.”

  What about Jennifer, Sheila, and Mackenzie was not real? “Are you saying that because being around Jennifer makes you uncomfortable after you rejected her?”

  His fingers tightened around his pen, but no change occurred on his face. “I reject a lot of people.”

  “Not me.”

  I knocked my knee against him, and his body jumped at the small contact. He positioned himself away from me. “An RA can’t be with one of his residents.”

  “If you weren’t an RA, would you reject me?”

  He cracked one of his knuckles. Trying to relieve some pressure? “I don’t date.”

  “Is that one of your rules?”

  He shook his head and glanced up at the ceiling as if God himself would help him deal with me. “Has anyone ever told you that you lack boundaries?”

  “Why put your personality in a cage if you wouldn’t put your body in one?”

  He paused. This time when he looked at me, mild respect lit up his eyes. “That was deep,” he complimented me, and a surprising rush of pride and warmth claimed my body.

  “Were you expecting shallow?”

  “I expected not to be asked twenty questions so early in the morning.”

  I held my coffee cup over to him. “Want a sip?” After offering, my heart did little pitter-patters at the idea of an indirect kiss with him touching his lips where mine had been.

  “Coffee is bad for you.”

  “Everything is a little bit bad for you.” I sipped from it. His eyes followed my action, focusing on my lips as I licked the traces of coffee away.

  He tore his gaze away from my mouth. “It’s important to stay away from things that are bad for us.”

  “You say that like you think I’m bad for you.”

  “You purposefully played loud music just to mess with me.”

  “It was a good song though, right?”

  Nate rolled his eyes and, for some strange reason, I found the passive-aggressive action sexy. “For a sophomore, you’re very immature.”

  “I’m a freshman,” I said.

  His eyes widened again and dipped down to my cleavage. A quick moment passed before he realized what he did, and his gaze shot back up to meet my eyes. “You look older.”

  “I am older.” He arched an eyebrow, and I continued, “I spent a year abroad.”

  He let out a laugh. A real one. Deep and throaty and… Wow. I wanted to record it and listen to it on a loop like the unprofessional person I was. “Now it all makes sense. You’re one of those girls.”

  “Ohhhhh, tell me more,” I said, intrigued. He thought he could analyze me better than I could analyze him?

  “You’re a ‘finding yourself’ girl.”

  “Sounds kinky,” I teased. His eyes darkened. “And what is a ‘finding yourself’ girl?” I asked.

  “The same kind of girl who can’t make up her mind on where she wants to eat dinner or what she wants to do with her life. The kind of girl who doesn’t plan things the way things should be planned.” He broke eye contact and spun his pen in his hand. “Let me guess, you went abroad for a year to soak up the culture and become more rounded, but instead just sharpened your edges with some nice photos for social media. You probably have some impulsive tattoo of an ex-boyfriend’s name or a Japanese symbol you don’t know the meaning of. You probably still use the word YOLO as an excuse to do whatever you want whenever you want. And you distract yourself by focusing on the flaws of others so you don’t have time to see your own.”

  My mouth hung open. Nate may not have been able to guess what caused me to be all those things, but his accuracy was scary. Not only did I have a Japanese symbol tattoo, but I also had a YOLO tattoo. And now I couldn’t stop wanting to show it to him to see his reaction.

  Instead of dwelling on how he had summarized me in a thin nutshell, I changed the subject to his issues. “I bet you have the next twenty years of your life planned out.”

  He shot back with a small smile, “Twenty-five.”

  We exchanged a soft moment between us, where the lights in the room grew brighter and the air stilled. A split second passed where his expression remained unguarded.

  His phone buzzed from his pocket, and he frowned, pulling it out. The screen flashed with an incoming call from “Blueberry.” Who the hell was Blueberry? Did she know her name was my favorite fruit and muffin?

  His smile dropped, and he stood jerkily, getting up from the desk chair. “Take notes for me,” he told me, about to press his phone to his ear and walk out of the class.

  “I don’t have a pen,” I whisper-shouted after he hit the answer call button.

  “One second,” he told Blueberry over the phone and fixed his scowl of disbelief onto me. “You didn’t bring a pen to the first day of class?”

  “I’m a ‘finding-myself girl,’ remember?”

  He tossed his pen at me and strode out. All I could catch from the phone conversation was, “Yeah, Blue, I’m here. Is everything okay?”

  My new mission: to find out who this Blueberry was to Nate. My second: to stop feeling nauseous at the idea of him being with another woman who was not as lost as he was.

  Chapter 5

  Nate:

  * * *

  It was painful watching her look for a spot to sit for dinner in the dining hall. Jennifer and her posse had abandoned her the way I had seen them do with other freshman girls in the past. It did not help that her roommate Marissa was never around. The first week of classes came to an end, and Allie still sat by herself in the dining hall.

  Watching her face crumple in hurt was almost enough to make me forget about why avoiding her was a good plan. I wanted to sit with her and answer her crazy questions and watch her grin like we had known each other our whole lives.

  But I couldn’t.

  “Jeez, Nate, what’s with the super angry face?” Joey, my closest friend, asked me after stealing one of my mozzarella sticks.

  “It’s nothing.”

  Allie continued sitting by herself, looking like the poster child for loneliness. She was not only off-limits because I was her RA, but because she was my opposite in every way. We clashed more than we meshed. It was best to just stay away from her. She’s a finding herself girl. I had no time for anyone who did not already know who they were.

  Note to self: The goal for tomorrow is to not see or talk to or think about Allie. I had achieved harder goals in my lifetime. Going days without seeing people I knew was easy. Sure, Allie and I were neighbors who shared a wall and a history class, but that did not m
ean I had to see her every day. Not seeing her made not thinking about her easier and not thinking about her made everything else easier as a result.

  But damn, her sitting by herself cut into me like a buttered up machete.

  I needed to join her. My fingers grabbed my plate but, the next second I glanced back over at her, a guy sat down across from her. They talked, and she grinned like he was the funniest life form in the world. Who the hell was he?

  “Seriously, what’s up, man?” Joey broke through my inner turmoil. “You keep switching between sad and mad, and it’s giving me whiplash.”

  “Do either of you know the guy in the checkered shirt?” I asked Joey and Ryan. Only then did Ryan look up from his phone and join our conversation.

  The guy looked familiar and whatever he said caused her to laugh.

  “I think he lives in our dorm,” Joey said. Like me, Joey and Ryan were RAs for our dorm building.

  “Better question: do either of you know who the girl in the red top is?” Ryan succeeded in making me more on edge than I already was.

  “She’s no one,” I said.

  They both squinted at her, and I ground my teeth, wanting to tear their gazes away from her.

  Ryan shrugged. “Well, I think it’s time I meet this Little Red Riding Hood.”

  Did he mean Allie? “She’s not wearing a hood.”

  “Red top, reddish hair. It’s hard to come up with nicknames on the spot. But damn, she looks good enough to eat.”

  “You need to move on to someone else.” I warned him, “She lives in our building, and you know the rule about RAs and residents.”

  “I know that the taboo of it makes it hotter.” Ryan nudged me with his elbow, and I scooted a bit away from him. He was a touchy person; I was not. “But I guess it’s not as taboo if you’re Nate Reddington. What does a millionaire care if he loses free housing and meals?”