I hadn’t returned her texts after our run-in at the diner. For one, she’d acted like a cunt, which I wasn’t down for. But also, I wasn’t sure there was anything to say, or if I wanted to hear anything else from her ever again. In my opinion, she’d said quite e-fucking-nough when I’d failed her ultimatum and she’d unceremoniously broken us after two years together.
So, yeah, I didn’t need to hear about Abby sightings. When I didn’t rise to Daniel’s bait, he and Deacon continued right along.
I drank my water.
Daniel slammed down his glass a couple minutes later. “Excellent weekend. Now, I have to shower the pussy off my dick and get myself to class. Jesus, I’m so behind, and it’s only week two.”
He pushed off the counter, leaving his dirty glass behind. In a move that was surprisingly responsible, Deacon placed it in the sink.
“How far did you run this morning?” he asked.
“Seven miles.”
His brows popped. “How early did you go out?”
“Six thirty. Like I said, you were dead to the world.”
He shook his head. “You know, you don’t have to keep going so hard now that you’re not wrestling.”
“My body needs it. I can’t tell it no.”
A long stare. Cluck of his tongue. Tragic headshake. Deacon judged where he had no room to be judging. “Pretty sure your body sent you a very loud and clear message in May, man. I heard it when I sat in the ER with you. No idea how you missed it.”
I froze. “We’re not talking about that.”
His head bowed. “Just giving you a reminder. You don’t need to push yourself so hard anymore.”
The scoff that came out of me was bitter. “Seven miles isn’t pushing myself. I think you know that. Don’t need a reminder anyway.” I swiped at my mouth, then my forehead. “I need to shower. I stink.”
It would probably take me a lifetime to forget the feeling of sitting in the ER with Deacon, thinking my heart was going to explode in my chest. Stress, they said. Arrhythmia, they said. Take it easy, they said. All I heard was a body I’d treated like a fucking temple had failed me.
In the shower, I felt it. The pressure mounting, tight in my chest. It still pissed me off, especially that Deacon had been there to see me like that. Scared and weak and vulnerable—and he would not let me forget it.
I still pushed myself because I was not scared or weak or vulnerable. I’d rid myself of some of the major stressors in my life. Now, my body needed to understand it wasn’t going to fail me again. That wasn’t an option.
Dry from my shower, awake from the seven miles I put in this morning, I grabbed my laptop, shoved it in my backpack, and set off to my first class.
Shit start to the week, with Deacon and Daniel getting in my face and my ex being thrust to the front of my mind. It was only Monday, though. Plenty of time to get better.
Chapter Eight
Helen
Lachlan took the seat beside me, giving me a chin tip. I tipped right back.
He went about his business, like he did at the start of every class, setting up his laptop, stretching out his long-ass legs, ignoring me and everyone else while he waited for Professor Davis to commence his lecture.
“You know, you could have stayed with me on Monday, but you just left me with him.”
His head swiveled my way. “You get hurt?”
“No.”
“He say something you didn’t like?”
“No.” Yes. Always.
His big shoulder lifted. “You’re all right, girl.”
“He could’ve said something I didn’t like.”
His eyes held mine. “Didn’t, though. I think you can take care of yourself against that guy anyway.”
“Not all of us are seven feet tall, Lock.”
“You don’t need to be. That guy could hurt you, but I get the impression he’d saw off his arms before hurting a woman.”
“I don’t know about that,” I mumbled.
He chuckled, low and velvety. “Yeah, you do.”
Lachlan had taken the title of my seat neighbor for one hour, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. At first, I liked him because he was silent. Then because he occupied the chair Theo might have otherwise taken. And last, because he’d stuck by my side on the way out of class both Friday and Monday. Until he’d essentially handed me off to Theo, which was bullshit.
Lock knew less about Theo than I did. He’d used some bro-code instinct to declare him non-threatening. When you were a six foot six, iron teddy bear, I guess not too many people were threatening, so perhaps his impression was slightly skewed.
All that to say, Theo had walked me to my dorm on Monday. And annoyingly, he’d pinned me to yet another wall, as was his way, it seemed.
“Bad start to my day. Why’s it looking better now that I’m seeing you?”
“That sounds like something you should be asking yourself.”
Forget that those words did things to me. I wasn’t interested in the things the words were doing or the man who’d said them.
“I keep thinking about you lunging at me, Tiger.”
My nose crinkled. “I didn’t lunge. Wrong girl, dude.”
He lowered his face, bringing it close to mine. “Don’t call me dude.”
“I’m a skater. Everyone’s dude.”
He slowly shook his head, never looking away from me, not even for a second. “I know why you’re doing it. I don’t like it, and it will not stand.”
My breath came faster as desire and panic swirled in my chest. But my mouth ignored the panic, and as always, got me in trouble when I was trying to avoid it.
“Oh yeah? What will you do if I say it again...dude?”
In a flash, I was whirled around, cheek flattened to the brick wall, Theo, warm and dominant, at my back. One arm braced next to my head, the other moved his palm along my ribs and hip, skating over the outside curve of my ass.
“Why do you drive me crazy, Helen? Why are you in my head?”
His mouth spoke hot, frustrated words against my neck.
“Again, Theodore, that’s a question you really need to ask yourself.” I would have been more convincing without the quiver in my voice.
Or maybe I was convincing enough. One long, wet touch of his lips on my nape, and he backed up, turned me around, nodded, then walked away.
I did not like Theo, and I was still beating myself up for kissing him, because yeah, there was no denying I’d lunged at him. The only excuse I had was I’d been emotionally depleted from school and Luciana and Amir’s visit and stripping and all the stress and bad of the week. I wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend—definitely not one like Theo. No-strings fucking wasn’t my thing anymore either. So, yeah, I shouldn’t have been kissing random rich boys in their luxury cars—especially not ones with bitchy ex-girlfriends who clearly hadn’t retracted their hooks.
* * *
Near the end of class, I leaned into Lock. “You’re not going to protect me when we walk out of here today, are you?”
His attention remained on his laptop. “You don’t need it.”
“And if I want it?”
His head moved back and forth. “Not getting tangled in your drama, girl.”
“It’s Helen, not girl.”
“I know.”
“You’re annoying, Lock.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” I leaned closer so Professor Davis didn’t beam me with his laser eyes for talking during his class. “You know I don’t want his attention.”
“If I knew that, I’d walk with you, keep him away.”