Reckless Secrets (12 page)

"How was Bhat in lab today?" he asked, too casually to be uninterested.

I was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. "Great. Good. Helpful. Knowledgeable." There was no way I was going to rat on Bhat and give him some kind of job performance review to his now boss.

"Good. Still come to me for help. Bhat will be busy enough learning the job," Byron whispered in my ear. "Everything will go on like before."

I froze. "Um, thanks." I paused. "I'm sure you're busy. I'd better be going." I was hoping he'd get the message and move out of my personal space. But when I turned around to leave, he was right there.

"I think I love you, Ellie." He leaned toward me.

Chapter Seven

My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. As I stared at him, stunned, he tried to kiss me. I sidestepped and ducked out of the way, trying to think of a way to let him down easy, which was purely a grade-preserving tactic, and cursing myself for being so naïve. I was only being nice to Byron. Why did he have to misinterpret it?

"Byron, that's all very sweet of you. I'm flattered. But you're my professor now. And the university frowns on professors and students…" I took a deep breath. "We can't… You could get in trouble. I don't want you to lose your job. And I—"

I was cut off just then by a quick knock on the door, followed by Dr. Homer, another chem prof, sticking his head in the door. "Byron? Do you have a minute?" He frowned. "Oh, sorry to interrupt. Didn't realize you were with a student."

"No problem," I said. "I was just leaving." I brushed past Byron and Dr. Homer and walked as fast as I could to the stairs. I just wanted to escape. When I finally reached the doors to outside and stepped into the bracing air, I took a deep breath and buttoned my coat. What was I going to do about Byron and chem now? Running out on a guy who'd just told me he loved me wasn't the best plan, maybe, but it was all I had.

I grabbed my cell phone, ready to text Logan and tell him what had happened. Remembering Jason's warning stopped me cold. I didn't believe, not for a minute, that Logan would threaten Byron or punch him or anything. But why look for trouble?
 

I made a snap decision to keep this to myself and not share it with Logan. The semester would end before Christmas break and then this problem would disappear. There were no more chem classes required for my minor. I just had to hang in there, act like nothing had happened, and avoid Byron as much as possible.

When I got back to the dorm, Tay and Nic were in their room. I told them about Byron's awkward pass.

Nic shook her head. "That's a stupid, crazy-ass plan. You should tell him to fuck off."

Tay laughed. "I think that's what he's looking for."

I laughed with her.

Tay frowned like she was thinking and considering. "You need a good grade and you have an uphill battle after what Dr. Rogers did. I'm for appealing to a higher authority—letting him think there might be hope, but blaming university policy for your reluctance to get involved. Once you have your final grade—bam! Run! Sever all ties."

Tay was taking psychology. She liked to spout things she'd learned.

"I tried that," I said.
 

"Yeah, but you ran out before you saw the effect," Tay said.

I frowned, doubtful.

"Give it another try and keep working it until the end of the semester." Tay nodded. "Bake him more cookies and go on, business as usual."

Nic shook her head. "You're a cruel woman, Tay. That's much harsher than my plan." Nic looked to me. "You're going to listen to her, I can see it on your face. At least take this piece of advice: keep the office door open at all times. See what I'm saying?"

It snowed and snowed and snowed. By nine that night there was a good six inches or more on the ground and excitement ran high—the first real snow of the season!
 

Logan texted me while I was studying in Nic and Tay's room.
Steal a tray from the dining hall. I'll be by to pick you up in fifteen minutes.

"Logan wants me to steal a tray," I said to Nic. Tay was at work.

Nic looked up from her laptop where she was working on an essay for English. "He's going to take you traying? Awesome! You'd better hurry before they're all gone. Everyone wants one. The dining hall staff is probably on high alert for tray thieves already."
 

I jumped up. "What are we waiting for? Don't just sit there. Are you going to help me or what?"

Nic shrugged, shut her laptop, and grabbed her phone. "No worries. We have an inside connection in the dining hall. And fortunately for us, she just happens to be on shift when we need her."

"We can't ask Tay to steal a tray for us!"
 

Nic ignored me. She was already texting. She pressed send and looked up at me. "Who said anything about stealing? I prefer to think of it as borrowing. We'll return it later." Her phone buzzed. "Tay says she'll leave it in the alley. But we'd better hurry before someone else finds it."

"Aren't you going?" I asked Nic.

She grinned. "And ruin your romantic tray ride?"
 

But when we got to the alley a few minutes later, slinking around like cat burglars, there were two wet trays waiting for us. We grabbed them and dashed.

Back in Nic's room a few minutes later, we collapsed in giggles, clutching our prized trays. "I thought you said you weren't going?" I said when I finally caught my breath.

She winked. "I said I wasn't going
with you
. Pay attention to nuances, girl. They'll get you every time. Now. Go make yourself pretty for your man."

I'd barely finished refreshing my makeup when my phone buzzed with a text from Logan.
I'm at the front door.

The dorm was locked at all times. You needed a key to get in. I texted him back.
Coming! Ha ha.
I grabbed my coat, gloves, and tray, slid the tray beneath my coat for stealth, and dashed to meet Logan. Just before I opened the front door to the dorm it struck me—maybe we should have stolen three trays. What was Logan going to do for a tray? Take turns?

My heart caught when I saw him, just like it always did. He was so incredibly hot, even bundled in a snowboarding jacket and black and gray beanie, the kind that flopped over the back of his head. I shouldn't have worried about the tray. Logan was carrying one.

He grabbed me and pulled me against him, kissing me with that fierce passion I lived for. His tongue was hot and talented in my mouth, giving me tingles all the way to my toes. When he pulled away, I was breathless.

He tapped my chest. "New bra? I don't like it. Too hard and plastic-y. Has a nice, hollow tap, though."

I laughed and pulled the tray out from beneath my coat. "Smart ass. I was being covert. The university will give you three to five hard labor if they catch you lifting one of these." I pointed at his. "Where did you get that?"

He shook his head and laughed. "The dining hall. Almost four years ago."

"You're supposed to return that after you use it."

He grinned. "I have every intention—when I graduate. This is a four-year loaner model."

"I see."

He took my gloved hand in his and led me out from beneath the covered front porch. "Isn't it gorgeous?" he said, but he was staring at me. "You look good enough to eat." He nuzzled my neck.

I laughed and pushed him away. "Wolf."

"Yeah," he said, pulling me along.

The streets were full of students playing in the white stuff.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Only to the best damn traying hill on campus." He led me to the large grass hill between the architecture building and the honors hall. It was covered with students sledding down on trays. The sound of laughter echoed off the buildings.

"If the university ever wises up and actually wants to catch tray thieves, this would be the place to look," I said.

"Yeah." He nodded. "If you see campus security coming—run! It's every man for himself." He kissed me again and pulled me to the top of the hill and tray run. At the top of the run, he pulled a small piece of snowboard wax and a lighter from his pocket and grinned evilly. "Give me your tray."

"What are you up to?"

"Take a look at everyone else as they slide down the hill. These things need a little help." He winked and used the lighter to melt the wax onto the bottom of my tray. Then he pulled a tri-shaped scraper from his pocket and scraped the excess off and buffed it. He sat the tray on the ground in front of me. "You're good to go. Hop on. But be careful. This thing's going to rocket."
 

I shook my head. "I'll wait for you."

"I'm ready to go. I waxed my board at home. Now get on."

He held my tray while I sat and wedged myself on it. "Hold on to the edge of the tray. These things have a way of scooting out from under you. Keep your feet up and aim straight for the bottom of the hill. On my count, push off. Three, two…" He slapped his tray on the hill next to mine. "One!" He gave me a push, jumped on his tray, and we were off.

His tray slid right and true down the hill, passing me almost immediately. He had the technique down. I wobbled and got sideways, falling off my tray less than halfway down. My tray slid away from me. Logan was already at the bottom. He ran up and retrieved my tray, then gave me a hand up, pulling me into his arms.
 

"I suck."

He shook his head and kissed me lightly as the snow fell on us. "First time's a bitch. You'll get the hang of it." He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the top again.

The second time, I got it. And it was like flying—the best thing ever. Better than sledding. Better than boarding. 'Cause I was with Logan. And about a thousand other students on the hill. But they hardly seemed to exist at all, except to add to the joy with their laughter and squeals. I screamed all the way down.

Logan beat me to the bottom of the hill. I tumbled off my tray into the snow just as I reached him, laughing. He caught my tray and grinned at me. "Well?"

"Again!"
 

We ran back to the top of the hill, hand in hand, carrying our trays, and went again and again. The seventh or eighth time down, I tumbled off my tray and rolled flat onto my back at the bottom of the hill, looking up into the falling snow as it caught in my eyelashes. Laughing, I opened my mouth to catch snowflakes and waved my arms in the snow, making a snow angel.

Logan rolled on top of me, poised above me, braced on his hands in the snow, studying me. "You're so beautiful, El. So beautiful." He kissed the tip of my icy nose.

I laughed, feeling a joy too deep to adequately describe. It was like music. He kissed my neck, burrowing beneath my scarf to bare skin. I sighed as he took me in his arms and really kissed me.

In Logan's arms, the world around me melted away. His mouth on mine was warm and wonderful in the cold, cold world. I wrapped my legs around his waist and kissed him back, oblivious to the snow falling on us and the snow angel beneath my back. Wanting him. Aching for him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and arched my hips up to meet his.

"I love you, El," he whispered in my ear.

This was the way life should be—full of love and laughter. As I opened my mouth to him and he kissed me again, I became dimly aware of shouting in the distance. Of a pause in the squeals and screams of delight of the tray-ers around us.

Suddenly there was a shout like a battle cry. And a series of screams. A snowball pounded Logan in the back, a direct hit. He started and pulled out of our kiss, breaking the spell.

"Hey!" He cursed beneath his breath as he rolled off me onto his stomach and looked uphill.
 

A crowd, like a battalion of soldiers armed with snowballs, lobbing them at an unseen opposing force, and as many tray-ers as they could, appeared over the crest of the hill between the interior design labs. All around us, tray-ers were arming themselves.

Logan took one look at the approaching horde and swore again, but this time he was smiling. "All-campus snowball fight. Shit." He grabbed a handful of snow and packed it into a ball.

I sat up. "All-campus snowball fight?"

He turned to look at me. "How good are you with a snowball?"