No Easy Choices (A New Adult Romance) (6 page)

             
“Don’t be silly, you know what I mean!” she insisted. “I mean, he’s just not like us.”

             
“What? Human? ‘Cause he’s totally human. Trust me,” I said, opening my eyes wide for emphasis, “he’s completely, one hundred percent, grade A human.” I licked my lips to get my point across.

             
“Ewwww, don’t gross me out,” she said, shoving me playfully. “I don’t need to hear the gory details of your sordid love affair. Speaking of love affairs...are you going to see him again?” Kennedy dropped her voice to almost a whisper, looking back at our door briefly to see if anyone had come up behind her.

             
“I plan on it,” I said at full volume, not caring who may have been lurking outside of closed doors, eavesdropping. “He was very nice. We’ll just wait and see.”

Chapter Nine

As it turns out, Javier won over ninety percent of my sorority the next evening with one bold move. He had three dozen roses delivered to the house for me, in half dozen increments delivered every thirty minutes starting from the time I got home from class. Finally, one last dozen showed up that were actually for our president, with a lovely note apologizing for bringing me home too late. I couldn’t be sure how Quinn took the gesture since she still wasn’t even looking in my direction, let alone talking to me.

             
The last batch of roses came personally delivered by Javier, who also had a picnic blanket draped over one awesomely toned arm. Seriously? What college guy owns a picnic blanket? That question made me wonder what other things I didn’t know. Like, his last name. Oh well, there’d be time for that. I bounded down the steps of the Theta house to greet him, wrapping my arms around his neck for a long kiss, thorny roses in hand. A loud cough came from behind me.

             
“No. We do not display affection on the steps of the house, Andie,” Quinn said with a sneer, emphasizing my name. So much for winning her over. Behind her, rows of gawking eyes and gaping mouths planted themselves on the porch, watching the demigod come up the walkway with me. More than one sister had to make herself stop drooling. By right of roommatehood, Kennedy shoved her way to the front of the group and held out a hand to Javier.

             
“Hi! I’m Kennedy. I’m Andie’s roommate. It’s so nice to meet you!” she gushed.

             
“Hello,” Javier began, causing a gasping swoon among the sisterhood. “I am Javier de la Cruz y Garcia. It is a pleasure to meet you.” I looked smugly at Quinn, who was now standing with one hand pressed to her chest.

             
I escorted my “beau” inside the house and veered off to the approved sitting room where Theta ladies were allowed to entertain male guests. The requisite sister came in to chaperone—I really wish I was making this up—and plopped herself in a chair near the window and began texting on her phone.

             
“I don’t want to hear anything that even sounds like you two are kissing,” she said firmly, irritation oozing through her tone. She busied herself on Facebook or something, one leg thrown over the side of a wing back chair across the room.

             
“You did receive the flowers?” Javier asked eagerly once we sat down.

             
“Yes, and they are gorgeous. It was also very smart to send flowers to Quinn. I think she was impressed,” I whispered back in a conspiratory hush.

             
“I do not want her angry with you or say that I cannot bring you on a date because you were late,” he explained, looking over his shoulder briefly like he was afraid she might be coming up behind him with a weapon.

             
“You are smart to be afraid,” I teased with a serious expression on my face. “I have a history project due for class that I really have to work on, but I was going to get something to eat first. Do you want to go with me?”

             
“Of course!” he said with a smile, standing up and reaching for my hand. “We will go to the library to work on your history project together. Come, I show you the best parts of the library for the research.”

             
We walked past the herd of estrogen-overdosed ladies that for some reason was still taking up space in the living room, ignoring their stares. I couldn’t be sure, but I’m pretty sure I heard one of the sisters whisper, “How about we have a meeting to figure out where to get more of those?” I stifled a laugh and headed out the front door.

             
I drove this time, stopping first at the side lot of the library where employees parked, courtesy of Javier’s job. Membership apparently does have its privileges. We walked up the marble steps of the colossal building where Javier pulled the door open before I could even reach for the handle.

             
Libraries have this amazing effect on me, and probably on everyone else, I guess, but it’s like I instantly have to be quiet and respectful. It’s like a giant church for books. I immediately got quiet, but smiled politely as Javier waved to different co-workers who were busy at different library-style tasks.

             
He walked us to the elevators to head to the special collections, sneaking a steamy but quick kiss once the door closed. I barely had time to run my hands over his very solid chest before he stepped away, ready for the door to open. It’s a good thing his timing is impeccable, because an older professor was waiting on the other side of the sliding metal door.

             
“What will you study about?” Javier asked in a hushed voice before leading me to the stacks of metals cases that held documents of every conceivable kind. Damn if his voice wasn’t even sexier when he was whispering.

             
“Um, women’s suffrage,” I stammered, trying really hard not to think about his seductive voice and the elevator.

             
“I’m sorry? Is too big a topic. Too much suffering for one history paper to write.” I was having trouble following his grammar again, and then it hit me. I tried not to laugh because I didn’t want him to think that I was laughing at him, even while I stood there continuing to laugh at him.

             
“No, Javier, suffrage. Not suffering. Suffrage is the right to vote. The paper is about women trying to get the right to vote.”

             
“Why would women want to vote? Their husbands can vote, so why do they want to?” he asked, looking at me wide-eyed. I stared for just a second, reeling from those words. I hadn’t heard a guy say something that stupid to me since...well, since Bryce invited me to go upstairs and check out his baseball card collection.

             
“Are you serious?” I whisper-shrieked, since I couldn’t make myself yell in a library even in the face of the most chauvinistic words anyone had ever said to me.

             
“Of course not,” he said, tickling my sides and laughing in a quiet way. “I just wanted to see you get angry!” He kissed me on the nose and pulled me by the hand towards a separate row of metal shelves marked “Women’s Studies.”

             
“Here, you will work here and make notations on this card about which articles you need, I will go get the articles and make the copies for you. The copies have to come back, though, so we have to check them out upstairs.” Javier slid a note card and a mini-pencil to me and pointed me in the direction of a row of periodical references. Sure. This was going to be fun.

             
And fun it certainly was. Every time Javier came back with a heavy bound volume, he placed it in front of me from behind, leaning down to nuzzle my hair or kiss the back of my neck, making me scrape the pencil across the notecard sharply from the surprise of it. Once, as I stood to replace a volume on the shelf above me, he stepped up behind me silently and pulled me to him tightly, his arms wrapping around my front and crossing. I leaned my head back against his collarbone and turned my face toward his for a luxurious kiss, only to have him place a delicate smooch on my cheek and tell me to get back to my studies.

             
Studies, huh? We’ll see about that.

             
Instead of looking for another article, I placed my hands on the fronts of his thighs, gently squeezing at the muscles fitted just below his jeans. I turned around in his arms and brought my hands up to his stomach, smiling at the sudden tremor that ran through him as I accidentally discovered a ticklish spot. Mental note, save that location for another time.

             
I trailed my fingers just under the soft fabric of his tee shirt to his back where his skin burned under my fingertips, stepping up on tiptoe to kiss him again. This time, I wasn’t warned about my all-important homework. Javier kissed me eagerly as he walked me toward the tall desk I had been writing article names on, pushing aside the stack of books carefully before leaning me backwards against its smooth, aged surface. He held himself up on his elbows while holding the back of my head, pulling me even deeper into his kiss.

             
I finally stopped breathing altogether when he snaked a line of kisses across my cheekbone to the skin just behind my ear, the heat from his lips scorching the sensitive skin. I reached for him, only to have him grab my wrist gently and slide it above my head, out of reach. I took his other hand and held it to my hip for only a second before his mouth met mine again, his free hand sliding up the hem of my tank top to rest on my ribcage.

             
“Javier,” I whispered suddenly, not just because we were in a library but because I couldn’t find the strength to stand up, let alone speak. “I think I heard the elevator.”

             
He froze in place for just a second before he quickly slid my shirt back down and pulled me up to stand next to him. A co-worker stumbled coming off the elevator, lugging a black metal book cart behind him across the groove separating the elevator from the floor, almost falling down when it finally rolled across and sending a few titles thudding loudly to the floor.  Javier reached for the stack of books on my desk and I quickly grabbed the pencil that we had accidentally knocked to the floor. Other than a twig of hair that had pulled loose from my ponytail, nothing was out of place.

             
It was all I could do to finish the research. Paper? What history paper? Oh, that paper. Every time Javier re-appeared with another book, I wanted to throw him on the floor and finish what we had started. And every time a delicious image of making out with him in the library basement flooded my brain, I was reminded that we weren’t alone by the dull clang of another musty old book being returned to its rightful place on the metal shelves.

             
Javier stole glances at me as he gathered and replaced the books, which was almost hotter than the intensity of our pre-interrupted kiss. I caught him watching me from between the shelves more than once and was on the verge of asking the book stacker politely if he could leave for about thirty minutes before I dismissed that idea as probably being a great way to get banned for life from the library. I had to get out of there before I did something truly embarrassing to both me and my family name.

             
“I think I’m done here,” I said quietly, pointing to my neat stack of copies that Javier had made. “Are you still hungry?”

             
“More than I was before, even,” he said, hinting with his eyes at what he meant. I bit my lip and looked over at the direction where I had last seen the employee with the cart, then shook my head slightly. Javier smiled his most wicked grin, but took my hand and led me to the elevator.

We pulled through a fast food drive-thru and took our sacks to the park overlooking the campus. One of the perks of a really old Southern school was an almost-maniacal need to manicure the lawns, so the grass was incredibly lush and even a little too green. We found spots on the ground and began eating greasy fries and hours-old burgers.

             
“See? Now you can experience the food of
my
people,” I said, rolling my eyes at the limp hamburger and waving a flopped-over french fry in his direction.

             
He laughed, but shot me a cringing expression before saying, “No, it is good because it is different. I don’t think it is good to eat too many times though.”

             
“Oh, like aji peppers are good for you? I thought I was going to choke! Food that spicy will kill you!”

             
“No, my grandmother is seventy-eight, and her mother is ninety-one. We live a long time on peppers!” He held up an arm and flexed a muscle, pretending to demonstrate how his native food builds strength. All I saw was a ripped bicep and the hint of solid strength beneath the fabric of his shirt as it pulled tightly across his chest. I caught myself staring, and didn’t care in the least.

             
“Wait,” I said, shaking of the trance his awesome body pulled me into, “your numbers are wrong. If your grandma is seventy-eight, and your great-grandmother is ninety-one, she was only thirteen years old when she had your grandma?” I must have looked horrified, because Javier stared at me for a moment, confusion on his face.