I climb in on the other side of her and lie there. I should have pulled the shade to block some of the daylight flooding the room, but I leave it. I can’t sleep the day away. Though she makes me want to if she’d stay tucked in next to me.
Where are these thoughts coming from? It’s too soon to be this into a girl. I’ve been attracted to girls before, fucked them, and we went on our own way. Is it that Story and I haven’t gone all the way that has me panting around her like a damn teenager? Am I really that easily manipulated? Or have I really changed this much in the twenty-four hours after meeting her?
Story isn’t a game I’m playing. That’s what separates her from other girls. That and a million other things. But I can’t keep who I am hidden for long, especially considering she’s already onto me.
I should try to enjoy whatever is happening here before it’s too late. My name won’t be a warning, but once she finds out about my reputation and other things I’ve done, that should do the trick.
Moving toward the center of the bed, I pull her close and hold her in my arms. While I’m wrapped around the back of her, she stirs, and whispers, “Thank you for the money.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
There’s a fissure felt deep in my chest from the question. I’ve already lost her trust. Already. I can’t lose her before we have a chance to explore where this is going. “I swear I was coming back after getting clean clothes and lunch for us.” Leaning over, I kiss her cheek. “But I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Her eyes never open, but a smile graces her lips as she relishes the intimacy. “I’m holding you to that, Cooper Haywood.”
I kiss her temple and then close my eyes. Leaning my forehead against hers, I savor every minute I have with her. “I hope you do, Story Salenger.”
10
Cooper
“Mr. Haywood?”
I left Story’s apartment last night, letting her get a night of studying in and returning to mine when the power was restored. She’s been on my mind all morning during my first final. Fortunately, I knew the information inside and out. My memory serves me well sometimes.
I thought I’d drop my paper off and then take off, but apparently, my teacher has other plans. I stop and turn back. “Yes, Professor Greene?”
Other students pass me after turning in the hard copy of their final papers. It’s odd to even turn in a paper with everything else sent electronically these days. She holds my paper up. “I’m looking forward to reading this over the break. I saw you were signed up for my advanced communications course. I know you consider my courses as hurdles in your pursuits, but have you considered steering your interests in another direction?”
Walking back to her desk, I block the other students, becoming a divider between the professor and myself to keep eavesdroppers from intruding. “Is this an unsubtle hint to drop the class?”
“I don’t understand what you’ll gain. You’ve shown no interest in this course, so why would a more rigorous class be any different? It seems you’re setting yourself up for failure. Or should I just forget how you disrespected me this semester and then pulled rank by using your name to garner a second chance that most students never have the ability to do?”
She sounds bitter. I get it, but that’s not my issue. While she straightens her black jacket, she ignores me despite the question she threw out. Trying to temper my irritation, I reply, “This is the recommended path for pre-law. I don’t make the rules.”
“And you don’t follow them.” She taps the stack of papers on the top of the aged wood desk and then shoots me a glare. “I may not be a lawyer, but I understand that manipulating the system to work to your advantage will only do more harm than good once you leave this campus.” Acknowledging a student when she drops her paper down on the desk, the professor silently dismisses me.
The thing is, I’m not done. “Sure, I fucked up this semester. I had a lot of shit going on that you’re not privy to, but I worked hard on that paper. I did it to prove that I’m not just my name.” Lowering my voice, I add, “For the record, I didn’t ask anyone to call in any favors for me.”
“Does it matter if you did? My job was threatened over a spoiled twenty-one-year-old who thinks we’re all here to serve at his whim.”
“What do you mean? I’ve never asked you for anything other than a fair shot. Are you saying you can’t give me a grade based on what I’ve earned?”
She takes my paper from the pile and sets it aside. Grabbing a red pen from her desk drawer, she shoots me a glare, then scribbles an A across the top of my paper. Handing it back to me, she says, “Professor Daubry is teaching the same course next semester. Do me a favor and sign up for his instead.”
When she stands, I step out of her way. She follows the last student out the door, leaving me there with my paper already graded after not reading one fucking word.
I leave pissed when I should be celebrating. This class has been a pain in my ass all semester. She made me feel like I couldn’t do anything right by calling me out over the dumbest shit, making me give impromptu speeches from an informative on a topic that she knew I’d fail to a persuasive, which to her dismay, I excelled and had the class cheering. “Fuck her.” I push through the auditorium door and start down the hall to go home.
Walking outside the building, I look across campus at Haywood Hall gleaming high on the hill. I should be in that building instead of pursuing philosophy, economics, communications, and whatever else my dad thinks makes a well-rounded attorney.
I trot down the steps but spy Eliza and veer right . . . into a little brunette with hazel eyes I’ve been lost in for two days. “Hey,” I say.
“Hi,” Story says with a big smile that’s starting to feel a lot like one that’s just for me.
Glancing behind me, Eliza is busy caught up in her coven of friends and hasn’t spotted me yet. “Where are you headed? I need to go this way.” I take Story by the wrist and start walking in the opposite direction.
She puts on her brakes. “I’m not going in this direction.” When she stops altogether, I put my back to the others. “What class do you have next?”
“None. I’m done.”
Disbelief covers her expression. “For the day?”
“The semester,” I reply, sounding short. Fuck.
Her eyes brighten. “Really? That’s so awesome. I just finished for the day, but I still have two finals tomorrow.”
“Why don’t we head to your place?” I try to start walking again, but she stands and looks back at me.
“Cooper?”
Looking past her, I see Eliza’s eyes homing in on me. Shit. I grab Story’s hand and say, “Run with me.”
“What?” I gotta give it to her. The girl takes off running with me. “Why are we running?”
We duck into an alcove at the psychology building. Story’s laughing, and seeing her happy has me walking on cloud nine. Out of breath, she tugs on the straps of her backpack. “Why exactly are we running?”
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I hold her closer, our bodies melding together. I cup her face with my hand, and whisper, “Just wanted to be alone with you.” I kiss her, stealing the breath she’d managed to catch.
She falls back against the stone wall, bringing me with her as our lips lock and our tongues greet each other again like the lovers we’ve become. I lean against her as she breathes life into me again. What I thought was an escape from one situation quickly turns heated, and suddenly, we’re becoming another type altogether.
Fuck, she makes me hard. If I knew we wouldn’t be interrupted, I might be willing to take a chance in the corner of this alcove. Story deserves better than the cold stone as a backdrop and an audience if anyone saw us.
Forcing myself away from her, I push off the wall, and my back hits the other side of the doorway. We’re left panting and staring at each other.
The door opens, and I stop it from hitting me. Some guy mumbles an apology as he looks at us but never stops and keeps walking.