Break Me Slowly (2 page)

“
Thank you so much. I am excited to be your assistant this year.”

“
Tell me, what is your long-term career goal, Miss Gunn? Academia or workforce?”

I folded my hands in my lap.
“Well, I’d like to be a social worker.”

He sat back and nodded.
“I see. That can be difficult. Takes a tough skin to see what goes through there sometimes.” He smiled. “But they need all the good people they can get.”

I couldn
’t help but smile back. Professor Martin was nothing like what I’d expected. He was just so…jolly.

“
I’m teaching a full load this term. Everything from entry-level sociology to upper division. I’ll need you to hold regular office hours, and, if you think you’re up for it, I would like you to step in and lecture my Soc one-oh-one classes from time to time.”

“
I’d be happy to, Professor.”

“
I’ve seen your transcripts—very impressive.” He winked. “I think that you will do really well here.”

“
Thank you.”

“
Here’s my schedule.” He handed me a piece of paper with the times and days he taught the various classes. “And these—” He circled the Tuesday and Thursday evening sociology classes. “—will be the lectures you take over.”

“
Great! When would you like me to start?”

“
Might as well start at the beginning.”

“
Tomorrow?”

“
That work for you?”

E
xcitement bubbled. “Yes, of course.” I was going to teach. A
real
college class. Granted, the first day was always short and generally you went over the syllabus and expectations, but it was still something!

The morning
might have started out a bit rough, but things were looking up. Somewhere between a near-death experience, a sexy stranger with intense blue eyes, and Soc one-oh-one, I was feeling like my life just might be finding an even keel.

~

Professor Martin had left right after giving me a spare key to the office and telling me to make myself comfortable. It took only an hour to select my office hours, cross-reference Professor Martin’s schedule with mine, and successfully color-code and organized every weekday in my personal planner. Right as I opened my laptop to tackle my thesis paper, a man entered the office.

“
Can I help you?”

“
Delivery for a Katelyn Gunn.”

“
That’s me.”

The man handed me a rectangular box wrapped
in shiny white paper, with no card or any identifying writing on it. Odd.

Even though I had
lived with my aunt and uncle for the last part of my high-school career, we weren’t necessarily close. They had never once sent me anything. The only time I spoke with my mother was when she needed something, and I’d just seen Megan this morning. That girl couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, so if she had gotten me something, I would have known then.

T
he messenger left and I unwrapped the mystery box. It was thin and light. When I pulled the last of the paper away, I saw the top of the box and frowned.

Saks Fifth Avenue
.

I popped the
lid off. Inside was a white silk blouse in my size. The card on top said:

Keep your eyes forward.

~
A

What the hell?

How
had he found me? Being borderline worried about the logistics of that should have been my first thought. Instead, I felt a little giddy and flattered.

A small smile tugged at my lips.
Had he picked this out himself? Probably not. He looked like one of those important people who had others do things for him. He had a personal driver, for God’s sake.

The color of his eyes alone was seared into my memory.
That intense stare could likely burn right through a person. A man like that had power. Not just in general, but power over women. That much was obvious. It was also clear that he was very aware of his effect on others.

Before I could let the embarrassment of this morning engulf me, I switched
my thoughts to something else. Like the line of his strong jaw. Judging by his dark features and careful grooming, he probably had to shave every morning and by every evening he’d have a five o’clock shadow. He had to be in his thirties, but he was fit and obviously took care of himself. So much strength and poise seeped from every pore that he could easily pull off late twenties if not for those eyes. There was darkness in them. A kind of wild knowledge that no twenty-something could pretend to have without actual experience.

My skin broke out
in goose bumps and I had to shift in my seat to alleviate the sudden throbbing between my legs. What was happening to me? My experience with men was minimal. It was hard to date when I didn’t like people coming within striking distance, let alone touching me intimately. My sex life consisted of myself, a few imaginary fantasies, and that was about it. But this mystery man? Just thinking of him had my whole body pulsing to life and all five of my senses begging for him.

Leaning back in the chair,
I looked at the ceiling and groaned. Emotions of any kind were not fun to deal with. Which was why I tried not to. I had been on the receiving end of my mother’s rage and love for years. That was the tricky part of dealing with someone who was bipolar. I never knew which version of her I’d get. She could go from such hate to such joy in a matter of hours and it wasn’t until I felt her nails slice across my face that I knew which state she was in.

Even keel. All the time. That
’s where I preferred to be. That was where it was safe.

Now if only I could get my stupid body to understand that.

“How was your first day, Miss Tits and Ass?” Brian sat in the chair on the other side of the living room and unleashed that all-American, boy-next-door smile at me. Too bad I was immune to it. Had been since junior year of college, when I met him. All Brian had to do was aim that grin, shaggy blond hair, and stubble at an unsuspecting female, and they’d instantly swoon. It was how he’d snatched up Megan, and the two had been dating for over a year now.

“
You do know that T.A. means Teaching Assistant, right?”

He shrugged
and sprawled on the overstuffed chair, beer in hand. Megan and I had rented this apartment during freshman year at college. Since we’d moved in four years ago, Mondays were designated “sweatpants and take-out night.” It was my favorite. Especially when Brian came over to hang with us, even though he donned his normal ripped jeans and baseball cap instead of pajamas. Besides Megan, he was my best friend.

“
Tell Brian how you almost got creamed!” Megan yelled from the kitchen, where she was dishing up Chinese food.

“
I wasn’t watching where I was going and almost got hit by a car.” Crisscrossing my legs on the couch, I took a bite of my chow mein.

“
Jesus! Are you okay?” Brian leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, and looked me over as if I were a walking bruise. We joked around a lot, but at the end of the day, we were all friends. He was as close to a big brother as I’d ever get, and like Megan, treated me like I should be wrapped in Styrofoam and sheltered from the atmosphere itself.

“
Yeah, I’m fine. I just stood there with coffee dripping down the front of me like a moron.”

“
But then Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dramatic sent her a new blouse,” Megan finished as she walked into the living room.

“
Wait. The guy who almost hit you with his car sent you clothes?”

I glared at Megan
, who just shrugged me off. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Brian, but another person weighing in on the oddity of this whole situation was the last thing I needed.

“
How did this guy find you?”

“
I don’t know. He knew my name and where I was going and I guess just figured it out.”

Brian
frowned. “That seems freaky.”

“
I think it’s nice.” Megan grinned. “And I think he’s hot.”

I took a drink
from my longneck. “You haven’t even seen him.”

“
So? You described him and he sounds hot. I trust your judgment. Besides—” Megan took a bite of her lemon chicken. “—this would be a perfect opportunity to ask him out.”

“
I don’t even know his name.”

Megan shrugged.
“He found you. Maybe you can find him. All I’m saying is that you’re beautiful and smart and you have a lot to offer. Why not get your toes wet in the dating pool? You don’t have to get too close—maybe a cup of coffee or something?”

“
This is assuming I ever actually see this guy again.”

“
All I’m saying is that you smile a lot whenever you talk about him.”

“I haven’t talked about him. You’ve been making me talk about him all night.”

“I don’t like it,” Brian stated.

That didn
’t really surprise me. Since I didn’t date, the issue had never come up, but where Megan thought that branching out was good for me, Brian obviously disagreed.

“
This guy is obviously thoughtful and it’s Saks Fifth Avenue. What’s not to like?” Megan spat back.

Around a mouthful of noodles I mumbled,
“I’m really sorry I told you guys.”

“
Don’t be! It’s Brian who’s being an ass.”

“
Oh, I’m the ass?”

I threw my hands up.
“I thought we established that I was the one with the ass, so both of you shut up.” We all smiled. Megan rolled her eyes at Brian, but he didn’t seem to care.

D
inner hit the spot and as I ate, I thought about what Megan had said. Hunting down this mystery guy wasn’t an option, but if I was given a chance to re-do that first meeting, I would. Either way, it was time I took action. My past wouldn’t hinder me. If I wanted to be treated like a normal woman, I needed to start acting like one. A cup of coffee wasn’t scary.

“
How about lunch tomorrow?” Brian asked.

“
I can’t. I’m actually running Professor Martin’s lecture.”

“
No shit? That’s awesome!”

“
It’s the intro sociology class, but I’m pretty excited.”

“
You should be,” Brian said. “But, ah, do you think you’ll be able to handle that?”

Anger swelled in my chest
. I knew he cared. Knew Megan cared. But I wasn’t a child. Yes, I had anxiety problems and issues with personal space, but I wasn’t breakable. Being treated like a fragile doll was frustrating. And I’d decided a long time ago, when I walked out of my mother’s house, to stop being weak.

“
I can handle a lot, Brian.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but Megan cut him off.
“What time are you done? We can both meet you afterward for dinner.”

“
Lecture gets out at four-fifty, so let’s aim for five.”

“
Perfect.” Megan clapped and Brian nodded in agreement. “We can celebrate your first lecture on the other side of the fence.”

~

I ran my palms down the front of my black pencil skirt. The emerald fabric matched my eyes and, as usual, my long curls hung loose around my face and down my back. This was my power outfit. The curtain my hair provided was my security blanket. Staring down a theater of one-hundred-plus students, I needed all the security and confidence I could get.

Starting
up the PowerPoint deck, I cleared my throat, and reminded myself that I knew this material. I was prepared, organized, and all variables were accounted for. Any possible scenario that could disrupt the lecture had been thought of and a plan of action in place. From a student randomly vomiting to a surprise fire alarm, I had a solution for it all. Having control, or at least the illusion of it, gave me a sense of peace.

I began the lecture
, feeling more confident by the minute. Midway through, I glanced up from the presentation to look at the crowd. My blood pressure spiked and my palms went sweaty.

Standing in the doorway of the upper corner entry was
Mr.
GQ
.

With the lights off, it was hard to make out
every detail of his handsome face, but those wild baby blues were bright against the darkness. He slid into the back row near the door and simply stared at me.

My throat went dry and my whole body shook. I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear
—then untucked it. I forced myself to concentrate and continue.

Damn it.
He
was a variable I hadn’t counted on. Taking in a gulp of air, I prepared for the flood of anxiety to rush over me.