In the Bad Boy's Bed (15 page)

"Oh, I share lots of things, but I choose which things . . . and with which friends."

Luke and I continued our light banter and soon we were laughing so much that we were drawing attention. The early morning diners weren't the only ones observing us.

Nick had come in sometime during it all. I happened to look up and find him glaring at us.

His cheeks wore a flush that reached his eyes. He was gritting his teeth; I could tell by the rhythmic way his jaws were working. His tense body reminded me of a coiled snake ready to strike. Were those signs of jealousy oozing from every part of his body?

Nick saw me looking at him and must have taken that as a signal to approach because he walked to our table and sat next to me. His face, when he sat done, was not the mask of fury he had worn a moment ago, though. He was calm, the same Nick he always was.

"Hey, Angela. Luke." He spoke to both of us but looked only at me.

"Nick, my man." Luke welcomed him with a fist tap. "You decided to skip bio, too?"

"It was cancelled."

"Cool, now I can spend the whole hour with this beautiful babe." Luke eyed me as he spoke.

"Sorry, Luke, but the 'beautiful babe' has plans. We're studying for a trig test."

The trig test had been two days ago; I started to correct Nick, but my curiosity with what he had in mind had me going along with his lie.

"She's not going to want to study when she finds out what I have in mind." Luke's grin and gaze were more leering than friendly, and his tone was highly suggestive, making me better appreciate Nick's timing.

"Unlike you, she came here to be educated, not see how many people she can screw in four years, or in your case six."

Luke's gritted teeth behind his sly grin showed the mental debate taking place within the hulk of a human.

"Hey, Nick, if I'd known she was yours . . . ."

"Hey, I don't belong to anyone."

I answered before Nick had a chance, but he and Luke both acted as if I hadn't spoken. They faced each other, eyes locked, like two male dogs fighting over a female in heat. Luke must have sensed a superior strength in Nick, because he backed down.

"Well, Angie, I'd say have fun, but I know that's impossible with the professor, here. If you want some real fun, you know my number," he drawled, and slung his backpack over one brawny shoulder. "Later." He tossed a final challenging wolfish grin at Nick before sauntering way from the table, leaving us in silence.

As soon as Luke was out of earshot, Nick exploded. "What the hell do you think you were doing coming on to him? I told you about him, how he uses women—'screw 'em

'n lose 'em' is his motto. Is that what you want? To be next in a long line?"

"First of all, I wasn't coming on to him; we were talking. Second, I have no intention whatsoever of having sex with him. Third, my sex life is none of your business. And fourth, why do you care? You've made it perfectly clear to how you feel about me, so don't act like you care now. It's insulting and infuriating." I grabbed my backpack and turned to go.

He grabbed my arm to stop me. "I do care."

He must have recognized the look of disbelief on my face, because he amended his statement. "I care what happens to you. I don't want Luke—or anyone—to hurt you."

"Well, as I just explained, I have no interest in Luke, and I can take care of myself, so, you don't need to lose sleep worrying about me." On the verge of tears, I hurried away before he could stop me.

I heard him call my name, but I didn't respond. I had to get away. I didn't want him to see me cry.

He caught up with me just outside the door by the fountain. "Angie, wait."

At his touch, and the sound of my name on his lips, my eyes filled with tears.

"Let me go."

"You're upset. Did he do something to you?"

"No! He didn't do anything or say anything wrong. We were laughing and joking until you showed up. You're the one who has me so brain-scrambled that I'm crying even though I feel like punching you. Why don't you just leave me alone?" The words choked out through the tears.

He reached out to brush away the cluster of tears rolling down my face.

"Ah, Angel . . . don't cry," he murmured.

I let out another sob.

He pulled me against his chest and I gave in. I buried my head in his shirt and just cried. It felt so good to be close to him again, hear his rich voice whispering sweet sounds against my hair, enjoy his hands rubbing my back, feel his heat energizing me. This is what I had been crying for—the closeness I had missed with him. Now that I had it, I realized how much I had missed it.

But, he didn't want me. He'd made that very clear. Sure, he felt sorry for me because I was crying, but he would comfort any friend, any female friend, if she were in need. I wasn't special to him and that's what I missed. In high school I knew he wanted me, but now, now I was just another girl to him. And that's why I was crying.

I lifted my head and moved back, away from his comforting touch. I wiped my eyes with my fingertips.

"Are you OK?" he asked softly, rubbing my arm.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "I need to fix my makeup before class." I hurried to the restroom before he could stop me again.

I went to my classes that day, but I swear I didn't hear one word that was said. It was like those last weeks of high school all over again. Afterward, I went to my room and spent a half an hour in the shower trying to wash off this person I had been all day—one who was depressed, weepy, and no fun.

I vowed to stay away from Nick for awhile. Give my heart time to heal.

I spent more time with friends, joined a group, but nothing filled the hole that Nick's leaving left. I missed him. I missed his smile, his voice, the way he smelled. I missed his presence beside me as we walked across campus or sat together studying, eating, talking, laughing. I missed our discussions. I don't know how I ever thought he wasn't smart; he seemed to know so much.

I had often thought of the many joyous hours we spent making love. Now, I seemed to lived there, in that memory. I could conjure up every sensation, every tingly, tiny tremor that had traveled up and down my body, every fiery kiss that fused our lips together and ripped animal sounds of pleasure from our throats.

I remember our joining, that wild and passionate surrender into each other, giving of ourselves, each to the other, that mixed our souls, our minds, as well as our bodies. We had marked each other that first night, branded and made each other our own. We truly became one that first night together. Since then, I'd been trying to reclaim my other half.

I had to get him back.

* * * * *

"There you are. You better hurry or we'll be late." My roommate Joni broke up with her boyfriend and was suddenly eager to go to all the parties--and drag me with her.

"Late for what?"

"Duh! Tonight's Seduction Soiree at the frat house. Don't tell me you forgot? We've only been planning this for weeks."

Nick had asked me to go with him. Said we could pretend it was the prom we never had. "Oh, Joni, I . . . I don't even want to go anymore. I'm not ready – my hair's wet, my makeup isn't on—"

"Well, look, I'm almost ready, I'll help you with your hair soon as I finish. We can still make it. It's good to be fashionably late. Make them wait for our arrival, ya' know."

"I don't know. I'm not feeling—"

"Well, I do know, now let's get moving. It'll be fun. You were looking forward to tonight. What happened to change your mind?"

"Nothing."

"You mean Nick?"

"I . . . ." I couldn't finish the sentence, the tears pushed their way through again and I broke down. Hiding my face in my hands, I wept. I didn't think I had that many tears left. I felt Joni hug my shoulders.

"What did he do now?"

"He didn't do anything. That's the problem." I grabbed a tissue from the box Joni held out to me and wiped my face. "He doesn't care about me the way I want him to."

Between sobs I managed to tell her what had happened between us the last few weeks.

"Angie, that's not so bad. He's interested; just a bit scared. You know how into school he is and how important it is to him that he does well."

"I don't have a problem with that, but that's all he seems to cares about."

"Here's what I think: he doesn't want to get involved because he knows he can't give you the attention you deserve, so he plays it safe and tries to keep things friendly, but not too friendly. That way, he keeps you near and he doesn't get hurt."

"But, I'm being hurt. It kills me the way things are between us. We used to be all over each other in high school. Now, it's like I'm his sister. It sucks. God, I want him so bad, Joni."

"I think he needs help seeing what it is he wants," Joni said with a smile.

"I tried everything I know. Nothing's worked."

"Oh, you haven't tried everything. Listen, what you do is . . . ."

The soiree was in full swing when Joni and I arrived. Thousands of tiny lights lit up the dance floor and sent a sparkling net out over everything. Women in long gowns every color of the garden looked like blooms ready to be plucked. Men in their black suits, looking so manly and handsome. Odd that I'd just seen some of the men last week at another party, stripped down to their boxers, doing shots out of the belly buttons of some of the women. Ah, what a little spit and polish could do.

I danced with several guys while keeping an eye out for Nick.

"Well, well, well, Miss Angie, don't you look fine." Luke Walker's Southern drawl was spot on, but then he was from Alabama.

I curtsied then fanned my face with one of the plastic ivory fans Joni bought just for this dance because she thought it completed the look. "Mr. Lucas. You make a fine picture yourself."

He laughed. "I make a picture? What does that mean?"

I laughed, too. "I have no idea. I remember hearing it in an old movie set in the South."

He leaned forward toward me, and I smelled whiskey on his breath. I recoiled but it didn't seem to bother him. He moved in closer.

"I'm going to pretend it means you're hot for my bod." The gentlemanly smile morphed into a wolf's grin.

I shook my head, making the loose tendrils of my updo dance around my face. "I'm sure it doesn't mean that. And if it does, I take it back." I dropped the accent to make sure he knew I wasn't joking.

A guy from my English class approached me. "Hi, Angie. Want to dance?"

"Sure, Greg." Getting away from Luke, giving him time to cool his jets, would be a good thing.

Greg led me to the dance floor. "So, what do you think of this music."

"Classical's not my thing, but it fits tonight's mood. Are you a fan?"

"Yes. Actually, I play oboe for the symphony part time."

"That's great."

Greg talked nonstop about the symphony. I was actually relieved when Luke cut in.

"You looked like you were about to jab your fan into his Adam's apple."

"No, he's nice. If you need to know anything about the symphony, he's your guy."

"Yeah, that'll come in handy." Luke rolled his eyes. "Now, football—that's an interesting topic. Did you know I'm on the team?"

"Uh, yeah, you told me." I kept trying to avert my face so I didn't have to smell his breath. What the hell was I doing? I didn't want hang out with Luke, and Nick wasn't even here to see me and get jealous.

Luke and I danced another song together, mainly because I couldn't get a word in to say
thanks for the dance, now leave me alone so I can get feeling back in my toes from where
you've stomped all over them.
When I finally was able to extract myself, he followed me off the floor and trapped me in the corner, telling me about his last game, and sipping from his silver flask.

I'm sure to all in the room we looked like a couple on the edge of a big game-ending play. I was trying hard not to yawn during his ever-more-slurred football tales of glory when I felt eyes on me. I glanced around. Nick walked across the room toward me, eyes never leaving me.

God he looked hot. His black suit fit him perfectly, making his shoulders look even broader, his waist cut even tighter. The material of his pants smoothed over his hips and down his long legs like a waterfall of silk. He was clean shaven, and I wanted to run my mouth over his smooth jaw, chin, cheeks, feel the baby softness against my skin. I bet he smelled really good, too. His hair looked a little damp at the ends, which meant he was fresh from the shower.
That's the man I want.

I figured it was as good a time as any to put Joni's plan into effect, so I zoned back in to Luke's tale and laughed a little too robustly, making sure to trail my hand down his arm for effect.

"Ooh . . . I love this song. Let's dance." I lied, having no idea what the song was. But I smiled prettily.

Luke went for it, as if he were fine with getting a chance to put his arms around me again. We stumbled onto the dance floor. Well, he stumbled, I walked.

As he moved me around the room in clumsy circles, I tried to find Nick in the crowd. I finally spotted him standing near the far wall by the bar, watching me. The next time I was facing that way again, he was gone. My heart sank.

I knew Joni's plan wouldn't work, I knew it would only make him forget me even faster. My mind was on Nick, but it should have been on Luke. The next thing I knew, he had danced me into the dark recesses of the room and was kissing my neck and trying to put his hands all over my body.

"Luke, let's dance some more." I pounded his chest and tried to back away, but he pulled me tightly in his grasp and kept mauling me.

"I see how you been looking at me all night, Ms. Angie. I'm gonna give you what you been asking for."

He had pushed me against the wall and pinned my body with his. I couldn't move.

"Luke, I said stop it."

I had barely finished my sentence when his body was off mine and sprawled on the floor. Nick grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door. Too shocked to speak, I followed him out. Before we got out of the yard, though, Luke was there behind us; he pushed Nick.