My voice deepened, and my patience waned. "Okay, Sophia, I've told you—"
"Oh, Regan. It's just lunch. I'm not asking for a ring—just yet." She giggled like a mischievous schoolgirl.
I gritted my teeth, annoyed with her distraction. But if Cher could go out with someone else, what was stopping me?
"Fine."
She hooked her arm around mine again, leaning her slight frame against my side, urging me down the hall. "I'll walk you to class."
"You really don't need to."
"I want to. By the way, are you going to the game Thursday?"
"I wasn't planning on it."
She shook my arm. "You should get out more. I'm going. Why don't we meet there?"
I rolled my eyes, irritated by her whining. Cher didn't whine. Cher didn't really say much, except when she was sassing me, or denying my advances. But what I theorized to be a blanket attitude toward all men, proved to be wrong. There was some guy out there who was able to break through her walls. A part of me—the jealous part—wanted to know who this guy was and what he possessed that I didn't.
"Regan, I'm talking to you."
I exhaled a breath of utter irritation. "Fine, Sophia, I'll meet you there. This is not a date, though."
She squeezed my arm tightly and grinned. "Whatever you say."
I knew she hadn't heard a damn thing I'd just said.
She walked me to my room, where a class had already been patiently waiting for the last few minutes.
I loosened my arm from her wicked grip and backed into the doorway. "Thanks for walking me."
"Don't forget tomorrow."
I slid my hands into my pockets. "I don't think you'd let me."
She winked and turned, making her way down the hall. I stood there, watching her saunter away. Why couldn't she be Cher? I rubbed the back of my neck then turned to walk into class.
Here we go again…
CHER
I made it to my room without running into anyone else which, as of late, was an impressive feat. I threw my books on the bed, my sketch sliding out from inside the book as if it wanted to be seen again.
Shaking my head, I picked it up and threw it in the trash. "You've caused enough trouble."
I plopped down on the bed and hung my head low. "What have I gotten myself into?"
My eyes traced the floor back to the trash can where the picture was waiting for me to pull it out and take one more peek.
Gaaah.
I pushed myself off the bed and leaned forward, reaching out for the construction paper. Slowly, I pulled it open, letting my gaze linger on the soft strokes that worked together to create his face. I ran my fingers over the chalk, pretending I didn't care what he might feel like. Wondering why I was trying so hard to pretend.
Neatly, I laid the paper on my desk next to my mother's picture. I glanced over, her eyes soft and caring, staring back at me. My heart hurt to look at her, longing for one more conversation, one more hug, one more I love you. But I would have to be satisfied with the memories.
Sometimes, I worried I would forget her. The rasp in her voice—the way she smelled. I struggled to keep her memory alive in the deep recesses of my mind, but there were days, fleeting as they were, where I just couldn't find her. Those were the days I wanted to fall to my knees and cry out in anger to God for stealing her.
My face went hot, and my eyes blurred from the welling tears. I pressed my palm against my forehead, turning from her picture, wishing Charity would walk in and offer a friendly word, but the doorknob didn't budge. I rolled my neck, and wrung my hands, trying to shake off the gnawing feeling that was creeping over me.
I grabbed my book and headed off to get a bite to eat. Maybe food would get my mind off the drama plaguing my life as of late. I stepped out and locked my door, walking through the empty hall and out the exit.
Passing by the English building my thoughts drifted back to Mr. Donovan, still able to feel his electrifying skin against mine. Pressing my palm to my cheek, I wished I hadn't been so impetuous in telling him about my date. But there was nothing to do but suck it up and move on.
What did it matter anyway? He was my teacher. It was a forbidden affair—taboo, even.
The burger stand was unusually crowded, teeming with jocks and cheerleaders dressed in their best 'come fuck me' attire, and I stuck out like a sore thumb. At least I wasn't wearing my ratty old sweater this time.
I found my way to the cashier. "Can I get a number two?"
"What do you want to drink?"
A warm arm pressed against mine. "She'll have a diet soda, and I'll have two number two's."
I turned from the cashier who was staring at me for confirmation. "What are you doing, Reese?"
"I'm ordering for my best girl."
"I'm not your girl, and I don't want a diet anything."
He smiled conceitedly. "Don't worry; I'm treating."
"I can pay for myself."
"I'm sure you can, but let me take care of you."
"Take care of me? What makes you think I need to be taken care of?"
"All women need to be taken care of in some way."
"I don't need a man to take care of anything. Just because I said I'd go on a date with you doesn't mean you have a say in anything."
The cashier chimed in the heated conversation, "So, diet or no?"
Reese and I turned to him at the same time with conflicting answers. I said no just as Reese blurted out yes. My face whipped back to Reese, shooting him the wickedest of glares.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
His face instantly softened. "Damn, Cher. Why do we always have to fight?"
"Because you make me crazy. You can't keep thinking women are some sort of prize. We're actual people, with actual feelings." I handed the cashier my money. "No diet."
He shrugged, and punched a few buttons on the register. The drawer dinged open, allowing him to grab a few quarters and pennies for my change.
"I get it. You wanna be independent. I won't try to handle you anymore."
"I'd appreciate it; you not 'handling' me."
"Can I at least sit with you?"
I shook my head. "You're weird, Reese. Look at all these beautiful women." I pointed around at the various tables. "You're telling me I'm more appealing than any one of them?"
He looked around then back at me. "That's exactly what I'm saying. I told you, there's just something about you. I just feel oddly connected to you."
I smiled at his choice of words. "Odd, huh?"
He reached over and took the tray of food from the cashier. "Where do you wanna sit?"
I held up my book. "I was actually gonna read while I ate."
"Who wants to read when we can spend some time together?"
Me. I want to read, goddammit.
The sincerity in his eyes begged me to give him a chance. My hand fell to my side, causing the book to smack against my hip. "I guess we can sit over there." I pointed to a small secluded table with just enough seating for two.
He smiled, and tilted his head, urging me to go ahead of him. "After you."
I let out a slight sigh, slumping my shoulders as I looked around, wondering if anyone could be snickering at the sight of the school's most eligible bachelor, carrying the librarian assistant's food, but no one seemed to care either way. They were all lost in their own little worlds, and I needed to learn to do the same.
He hurried in front of me, pulling out a seat.
"Gentleman today are we?"
"I'm a gentleman every day. You've just never given me the chance to show you."
It's true; I'd never given him the chance to show me any other side than the arrogant class clown he'd acted like all the years I'd known him. I took a seat and placed my book on the table, watching as he picked up his food before sliding the tray over to me.
"Thank you." I took a drink of my soda, waiting for him to say something. After all, it was his idea to hang out. I had no clue about sports
or draft picks or whatever else he could possibly be interested in.
God, I sound like a pretentious bitch.
I decided to break the ice. "So, how are you feeling about the game tomorrow night?"
He finished chewing then set down his food. "I'm gonna win—I mean we're gonna win."
So fucking arrogant.
I sucked in another long sip, staring at his eyes. There was nothing particularly captivating about them—just ordinary blue—no unique flecks or tinges of amber, but I couldn't help but gaze hopelessly into them. Maybe that's what women fell hand over foot for? Those eyes. Clamoring for the chance to take up space next to him in bed. An annoying slurping knocked me from my trance when I suddenly realized the sound was coming from me.
I pulled my mouth from my straw. "Oh, my god. I'm so sorry. Was I staring at you that whole time?"
He smiled, taking another bite of his hamburger. "I'm used to it."
"I bet you are."
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, within reason."
"Why have I never seen you go out with anyone?"
"Just not interested in matters of the heart, I guess."
"But you're a woman."
"Well, I'm glad you noticed."
"I've always noticed, Cher."
I didn't know what to say to his sweet flirtation. I certainly didn't want to egg him on by saying something sweet back, but I didn't want to be a bitch either. I thought he deserved a small modicum of respect for trying his best to be a gentleman.
"Listen, I'm gonna head home. I have some reading to get done, and I haven't even cracked my book open."
He pointed at my food. "But you haven't even taken a bite of your food."
I shook my head, pressing my hand to my stomach. "You know, I'm just not that hungry after all."
His eyes widened. "Did I ruin your lunch?"
I stood from my seat. "No, no. Don't think that at all."
He stood, wiping the edges of his mouth with a napkin. "Can I walk you to your room? To make sure you get there safe, I mean?"
I tapped my book. "No, I'm okay. Just really need to get reading."
"Well, if you're sure."
I pressed my hand against his strong arm. "I'm positive."
He looked down, resting his hand against mine. "I just wanna say—"
"Let's just call it a night," I interrupted.
He gently set my hand at my side. "Tomorrow then. You promise we can spend some real time together?"
Why is he pushing so hard?
"Yes. Tomorrow. After the game." I backed away, clutching my book to my chest with one hand, waving with the other.
I turned, hoping to make it back to my room as quickly as possible. I couldn't understand his interest in me. I did nothing to encourage his behavior. In fact, I did everything to discourage it. Men were a different breed altogether, and I was thankful my mom had warned me about their conniving, self-serving ways before I fell into one of their traps. But I suppose going on a date with him wasn't going to help dissuade his attempts.
Me and my impetuous mouth.
REGAN
I looked over the sea of eyes staring back at me, but I couldn't focus. Not one bit.
"All right, class, I'm not assigning any homework. In fact, class is canceled for the rest of the day and tomorrow. I have a few things to take care of. I didn't cancel my morning class so if you need anything I'll be here for an hour in the morning."
The class broke out into a full-on roar of cheers.
"Is my class that bad?" I chuckled as they stood and began to exit the room.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled for Ryder, one of my best friends.
Me: Hey, can you meet tomorrow after my first class for a drink at McGinnty's?
Ryder: Early morning drink? Must be some serious shit.
Me: Kinda
Ryder: Your mom okay?
Me: Yeah, she's great. Something else.
Ryder: Woman?
Me: Yeah
Ryder: How many times I gotta tell you, bro. It ain't worth the pain. Love 'em and leave 'em. That's my motto.
Me: What about Hannah?
Ryder: What about her?
Me: You never leave her.
Ryder: She's my roommate. Where's she supposed to go?
Me: I think it's a little more than that.
Ryder: Man, you're always saying that. We're just friends. That's why we work.
Me: I don't think that's Hannah's take on the situation.
Ryder: What the fuck? Is this about me or you? I thought you needed to talk to me?
Me: Yeah. Tomorrow. 930?
Ryder: Fuck that's early. But yeah, whatever you need, man.
Me: All right.
Ryder: Yup.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and grabbed my bag off the desk, ready to head home and drink a glass of scotch. This whole business with Cher was starting to take its toll on me mentally. I'd never had to think about a woman this much, and I needed a man's point of view. My mother was only going to give me the woman's side of things, and I needed someone to tell me I wasn't going crazy.
I made it out of class and down the hall. With only one foot through the exit, I caught sight of Cher walking down the main path through campus. Of all the people in the world to run into, it had to be her.
Fuck.
I wasn't ready for another encounter with her. Especially, since I didn't know if I had it in me to restrain myself. She was clutching a book firmly to her chest as she hurried down the walkway.
I stood there, half in awe of how beautiful she looked as her hair swayed in the mid-afternoon breeze, the other half pissed she was going out with another guy. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I started down the path toward my car. I should have asked Ryder to meet me now, but I knew he liked to go home to have lunch with Hannah most days. I never understood those two. They seemed perfect for each other, yet he was never willing to cross that line with her. A line he was willing to cross with any other woman who showed any interest.
I guess I could've gone to the gym to work off some of the pent-up frustration I was carrying around, but I didn't feel like doing that either. I hated this fucking feeling of unrequited need for her.
"Regan!" a sharp voice called out from across the quad.
My eyes shot up from the concrete sidewalk searching for the voice's owner. It was Sophia, waving from the entrance of the math building. I made eye contact and raised my hand to wave right as Cher passed by me, shooting me a glare which pissed me off.
I whipped around. "What the fuck is your problem?" I asked in a tight voice.
She stopped mid-step, still facing the direction she'd been walking in.
"I asked you a question," I repeated.
Slowly, she turned, still clutching onto her book. "What did you say to me?"
"I asked you what the fuck your problem was?"
"You're my fuckin' problem."
"And why is that? I don't even know you. What could I have possibly done?"
Her eyes narrowed. "You just think you have the right."
I stepped toward her. "The right? What are you talkin' about?"
"You think you can just invade my personal space, ask me questions, and make me feel—" She backed away.
I inched toward her. "Make you feel what?"
"Regan," Sophia's voice wafted from behind.
I glanced over my shoulder. "Sophia." I turned back, but Cher was already halfway down the walkway.
Goddammit!
CHER
Just like a man to divide his attention between two women…
TIRED OF HIM
Thursday morning…
I rubbed my eyes, wishing I didn't have to see him again. I was tired of him. I thought about marching myself right down to the counseling office to drop the class. Maybe there was still time to move to old Mrs. Hecklman's class since no one liked her anyway, and she tended to have the room on her roster. But then I'd have to be in o
ld Mrs. Hecklman's class.
Choices, choices.
I stretched out my arms, yawning the night away before rolling out of bed and heading to the bathroom. I needed a hot shower and strong cup of coffee. I flipped on the water and slid off my navy blue pajama pants and panties, letting them fall into a pile on the cold tile floor. Unhooking my bra, I stepped into the shower, dropping the molded lace on top of the pile I'd already created.
Why would I let him force me out of a class? Why had I so easily handed him all the power over me?
Fuck that.
He could go to hell for all I cared. I was staying, and he would just have to deal with it—I would have to deal with it.
Lathering my arm, the soap slipped out from my hand and landed on the tub floor.
Gaaah.
I bent down to pick it up, smacking my forehead right at the edge of the metal faucet handle, shooting an unbearable pain straight to the back of my head. Instantly, blood started dripping onto the running water, creating a beautiful tie-dye design moving toward the drain. I pressed the tips of my fingers against the fresh wound, feeling the unevenness of the broken skin.
What the fuck?
I straightened my posture, allowing the water to run over the gash, pissed at how clumsy I'd been lately.
This is all I need.
I shut off the shower and reached for my towel, pressing it against my forehead to soak up any residual blood. Stepping out of the tub, I moved toward the mirror to inspect the damage. Thankfully, after removing the towel, I surmised the small opening could easily be covered with a band-aid. Unfortunately, the bruise building around it was far more unsightly.
Even make-up wouldn't cover the whole thing up unless I was willing to cake it on. My hands dropped to my sides, irritated I'd have to see Mr. Donovan in a few minutes looking like I'd gotten into a fight with a cat. I grabbed my makeup bag and began the arduous task of swiping foundation over the purpling skin. Luckily, the gash had stopped bleeding, making it easier to work with the area around it.
It took five minutes just to get the color to match my normal tone, and even then it was still noticeable. I searched my drawers hoping to find a band-aid, and luckily, I found one hidden way in the back of the very last drawer I'd rummaged through.
Maybe my luck was starting to turn around?
Teach Me: A Bad Boy Professor Romance (The Me Series Book 1) Page 4