More Than Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #2) (14 page)

I smirked. “Ironic, isn’t it? Of course, you were supposed to be unconscious.”

A dark shadow crossed Mike’s face and he grumbled, “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Oh, the guilt. It was neverending.

Usually with Mike I was always in Ice Queen mode—completely untouchable—but in a rare moment of vulnerability I dropped all of my hostility. “You look a lot better than the last time I saw you.” I shuddered at the memory of him lying in the street. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

I think my honesty shocked him into responding with the same sincerity. “The doctors told me I’ll never walk again.”

I wanted to point out how that might be a good thing, seeing as how it was his inability to walk and think at the same time that had put him in this position, but I didn’t think he’d appreciate the joke.

“I’m sorry.”

I watched Mike’s defenses go back up, but he was still anger free. Miraculously, so was I.

“Yeah, you said that before.” His tone was curious. “I can tell you feel guilty. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Mike pushed on before I could figure out what. “You were there.” He sounded unsure.

“You don’t remember?”

“Flashes,” he said. “Nothing that makes any sense. They said that’s common. They also said I’d been drinking.”

I raised a brow at the understatement. “Just a little.”

“They said I walked out into the street without looking. They said it was an accident.”

“It was,” I agreed warily.

“So why do you feel guilty if it wasn’t your fault?”

Yeah. Like I was going to explain it to him. “We were fighting,” I said, remembering how Becky said she felt guilty as well. “Right before it happened. You ran into Becky and me on campus and you tried to apologize to her.”

Mike’s face went a little green at the mention of Becky. I wasn’t the only one with a heavy conscious.

I shrugged, feeling a little sympathetic when I saw how much he truly regretted what had happened with Becky. “None of us handled the situation very maturely. You were completely wasted, but you only stormed off into the street without looking because you were mad at us. Becky feels just as bad as I do.”

Mike was quiet for a minute as he processed this. He let out a breath and said, “That’s jacked up.”

I actually laughed. “Tell me about it.”

In an instant, things became really awkward. It was as if we both remembered whom we were talking to. I stood up. “Well, I should go.”

Mike didn’t stop me as I made my way to the door. He did meet my eyes, though, and an understanding passed between us. “Tell Miller to call me.”

“Sure.”

My encounter with Mike
was strange. It was the first time either of us had ever been real with each other, even if it was only for a few seconds. I wasn’t sure what to think of it. He was still a colossal tool, but all of my anger and resentment toward him seemed to be gone. I didn’t know what that said about me, or how I felt about it.

Then there was that whole thing where I’d accidentally spilled my secret to him. Sure, he didn’t know what I was talking about, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out. As soon as Mike learned who Chelsea’s Angel was, he was going to put the pieces together, and then I had no idea what would happen.

This was bad.

To make things worse, I turned on my cell and found fifty-two missed calls and twelve voice messages. I was sure they were all from my father. Obviously, this morning’s news wouldn’t have gotten past him.

Oh, it was him, all right. I listened to each voicemail, and as they progressed he got angrier and angrier until he couldn’t even get clear words out on the last one. It was more a series of growls and grunts and incoherent shouting. He was going to kill me.

When I got to the last message, I was surprised to hear Carter’s cranky voice instead of my father’s.

“Your doctor is not a journalist, Jamielynn; he’s a ghost. I checked every database I had access to—called in a few favors to my contacts at the FBI, even—and I found nothing. Not a single hit. I don’t know who your mystery man is. I suggest you be extra careful. Also, the news was pretty interesting this morning, wasn’t it?”

Filter the sarcasm out of that last question and you’d get, “Quit with the moonlighting heroics before you get yourself killed, you idiot.”

It was nice to know he cared.

I was so wrapped up in the mystery of “Dr. Chang” that I didn’t notice Teddy until he was practically stepping on my toes. “Oh, hey. What’s up?”

Teddy frowned. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

“Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep.”

“I know jocks are supposed to have stamina, but did you two really go at it all night?”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but I ended up yawning instead. “I left Ryan’s place by ten. I’ve just been a little stressed recently and haven’t been sleeping very well. That’s all.”

Teddy eyed me skeptically for a minute and then said, “You need coffee. Come with me.”

I’d already been through one cup this morning, but after the night I’d had another one didn’t sound like that bad of an idea. I needed to talk to him about Becky anyway, and this way I could feel him out a little.

I spent most of the five-minute walk to the coffee house just kind of watching him. He didn’t have a swagger exactly, but he walked with surprising confidence. And he smiled nonstop, as if he were simply thrilled to be alive.

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” I asked as the barista handed us our orders.

Teddy found a small table in the corner of the café and actually pulled out a chair for me. I laughed at his chivalry, but he just widened his grin. “Does what get exhausting?”

“Smiling so much.”

Teddy shrugged. “I just have a lot to be happy about right now.” Before I could ask him what was so fantastic, he sipped his coffee and said, “So tell me about yourself, Jamie Baker. What are you studying in school?”

I was curious about the subject change, but I answered anyway. “I’m pre-law.”

This seemed to surprise him. “Is it the money or the arguing that you find appealing?”

I laughed. “Neither, really. I don’t want to be a lawyer. I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet. I just figure a law degree will give me a bunch of options. Plus, you know, it can’t hurt to have an understanding of all the laws.”

Teddy flashed me a smile so bright he could have given
my
wattage a run for its money. “The only people interested in understanding the law are people who want to enforce it—or those who want to break it. You considering a future as a criminal mastermind?”

He wasn’t really that far off base. There was probably a fine line between vigilante and criminal. Superheroes had to bend the rules a bit; there was no avoiding it. I’d already done it once when I helped put Mr. Edwards in prison on false accusations. Don’t get me wrong—he deserved his punishment—I just couldn’t accuse him of wanting to steal me so that he could study my superpowers, if you know what I mean.

“I just want to be able to help people somehow.”

“Ah. So you’re a do-gooder. Shady lot, your type.”

“Shady?” I asked, amused.

“Absolutely. A greedy man is only looking out for himself, but someone who’s always helping others? Who knows what they’re really up to?”

I laughed, but wasn’t really that comfortable with this topic. It hit too close to home, considering I’d decided to become a superhero just to make myself feel better.

“What about you?” I asked. “What’s your major?”

“I’m good with technology. Computers, electronics, gadgets, programming, code.”

“That means you’re really good with math.”

“It’s one of my favorite subjects.”

I groaned. “Good. You can tutor me.”

“Our relationship can be mutually beneficial, then.” At my questioning look, Teddy’s grin turned slightly devious. “I’m a bit of a hacker. Your understanding of the law could come in quite handy.”

“And you call me shady!”

“Ah, but you see, that’s just it. I’m straightforward about it. You know I’m out causing trouble somewhere. But someone like you? All doe-eyed and friendly, who needs an understanding of the law, but doesn’t want to be a lawyer? Someone who just wants to ‘help’ people? That’s more vague than a presidential debate. It’s meant to make you sound good so that no one will look too closely at what you’re really trying to accomplish.” Teddy leaned toward me, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You, Jamie Baker, are a woman of mystery—a girl with secrets.”

I tried not to let anything show on my face. This guy was sharp in a tricky kind of way—something we had in common. I liked that about him, but it could be dangerous seeing as how he was dead right about my secrets and all.

“I can’t decide if that was an insult, a compliment, or a threat.”

Teddy flashed those dimples again. “Well, it definitely wasn’t an insult.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. We fell quiet for a moment, sipping our coffee, and I caught the sound of a quick-shutter camera. Oh, how I wish I had no need to be specifically trained to listen for such sounds.

I glanced out the window of the café and, sure enough, sitting on a bench at a bus stop was an Asian man with a really nice camera. Like, telephoto lens nice. As in, spy-on-the-possible-mutant-from-a-distance nice.

Oh sure, he fit the look of a stereotypical tourist, but who takes a tour of Sacramento State University? I didn’t even do that over the summer and I was going to be a student here.

No way. He was here because of me. Because of the Chelsea’s Angel thing. I was sure of it.

I smiled at Teddy, and then took a long sip of my coffee, stalling while I tried to listen to the man across the street as he put his cell phone to his ear. “Confirmed sighting, Subject 4281. With the same civilian as at the hospital.” I paused a moment, and with all the street noise I couldn’t make out the conversation on the other end of the line, so I only got half the conversation. “Just talking over coffee, sir,” the man with the camera said. “I believe it’s some kind of date. Do we move in? Very well, sir. And if they leave, do we follow? Understood.”

CRAP!

It was one thing to think I was being followed. It was something else entirely to have it confirmed. And I have got to tell you, hearing myself referred to as Subject 4281 gave me the really bad kind of shivers.

Trying not to panic, I downed the rest of my coffee, ignoring the stinging as it scalded my throat. I forced a smile at a confused-looking Teddy. “This has been nice. Thanks for the coffee, but I need to get going. I’ve got a family thing in a little bit. Can’t be late.”

I started to get up, but Teddy dropped his hand over mine as I reached for my purse. “Really? A family thing? That’s all you’ve got? If you’re going to blow me off, at least be creative about it.”

I cringed. “Uh…I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

Right. Real smooth, Jamie.

“Yes, you do.” Teddy’s face turned grim. “You can tell that I like you, and you’re trying to ditch me.”

Okay, that was unexpected. I plunked back down in my chair, momentarily distracted from the creepy dude watching me. “What?”

Teddy sighed. “I like you very much, Jamie.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “Me?” I gasped. “No! You’re supposed to like Becky!”

Teddy seemed confused at first. I watched him think back and put all the pieces together. He looked sympathetic, but his smile was almost rueful when he said, “Becky’s a nice girl, but she’s typical. She’s normal and predictable. You’re different. Intriguing.”

“I’m also taken.” It was hard to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Mr. all-American?” Teddy shook his head. “Won’t last.”

“Excuse me?”

Teddy shrugged his shoulders and met my glare with cool, confident eyes. “Not to insult your boyfriend or anything—he seems like an all right guy—but he doesn’t have what it takes to hang on to a girl like you.”

“How dare you! You don’t even know him.”

“Laid back, social, all-around nice guy. No real goals or aspirations other than to take you to dinner and a movie and then make out for a while every weekend?”