The Love Series Complete Box Set (76 page)

The cornerstone of his plan is the one that’s having the greatest effect—proximity. When we work together, he’s always leaning over my shoulder, reaching in front of me to type something on my keyboard. The feel of his hard chest pressed up against my back makes me melt for him. He’s winning in his little plan, that’s for sure. I don’t dare tell him as much, but I think he can tell.

Bryan’s not working with me tonight, though. It’s just me and Professor O’Neil right now. I really like Professor O’Neil and I can definitely tell why Bryan has enjoyed working for him these past three years. He’s well into his sixties and he’s the quintessential absent-minded professor. He’s bald on top, but what hair he does have left is an unkempt mass of salt-and-pepper curls. I think my favorite thing about him, aside from his sweet personality, is that his tweed jacket—you know, the kind with the leather patches on the elbows—is always smattered with chalk dust across his back.

Since it’s a Friday night, it’s very quiet in the lab. No one really wants to do homework when there are parties to attend and drinks to consume. I get out of here at eight, so I could still go out, but I’m not much of a partier.

Professor O’Neil has been here for most of my shift, but by the looks of it, he’s not making it until eight. He actually looks like he’s going to fall asleep at his desk.

When I gently tap on his door, I startle him out of his light sleep. “Oh, hi, Melanie. Is something wrong out there? Do you need help?” he asks as he wipes the exhaustion from his eyes.

I step toward his desk and pick a few stray papers up from the floor. They must have fallen there when he passed out on top of the rather large stack that’s still sitting on his desk. Shaking my head, I say, “No, everything’s fine, Professor O’Neil. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve got this covered.” I angle my head out to the main room, which is completely empty. “There’s no one here, so why don’t you go home and I’ll lock up.”

Looking down at his watch, he smiles. “You know what? That sounds perfect. I can get home just in time to watch
Jeopardy
with my wife.” He starts packing up his briefcase with random papers and books. It surprises me that the man is even capable of remembering how to get home or around campus. He’s such a scatterbrain.

As he walks past me, he claps me on the shoulder. “You’ve done a really great job here these past few weeks. It’s nice having you on board.” He drops the keys in my hand and walks out into the main hallway. I smile with pride and escort him out. Walking left first, he then turns around sharply when he realizes that he needs to go to the right instead. I have to chuckle at him; he’s just so likeable and so dorky that it’s impossible not to laugh.

Okay, even I can admit that I have a huge soft spot for the dorky type.

Laughing softly at Professor O’Neil’s lack of direction, I check my watch as I saunter back toward my desk. I only have about an hour left of my shift. It’s boring as hell, but at least I’ll get my studying done. As I pull my biology textbook out of my bag, not surprisingly, I smack my head on the underside of the desk. Laughing at myself, I have to admit that I’m the clumsiest person ever, well after Professor O’Neil of course.

“What’s so funny?” Bryan’s warm and familiar voice filters in to my ears. He must have walked in while I was getting my books out.

Rubbing over the small bump that’s already started to swell on my head, I smile at him. “I was just thinking that I’m the most accident-prone person ever, but now that you’re here, I’m starting to think you might have something to do with it.”

Bryan chuckles, deep and throaty, while smirking at me playfully. “And please tell me what role I play in your clumsiness?” He rubs his stubbled chin as he waits for me to speak up. But somehow, all I can manage to do is watch his fingers touch his face. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through that stubble, to trace my tongue along it, to feel it scratch my face, and some other places as well.

“Well . . .” His softly spoken word disrupts my silent, but delicious thoughts. Quickly recovering my flirty wit, which always seems to be in place when Bryan is around, I let my lips curl up at the corners. “Well, it just seems that I get banged up pretty good when you’re around.”

The sound of his loud, almost uncontrollable laughter takes me by surprise. I cross my arms over my ample chest, and narrowing my eyes I at him, I snare, “What the hell’s so funny?” I feel slightly put-off by him laughing at me.

After his laughter subsides, he places his palms on the desk and leans into me. He’s so close that I can smell the cinnamon on his breath; I can feel the heat emanating from his muscled body. “Believe me, Melanie, if it was up to me, you would be
banged
very well whenever I’m around. I thought I told you that already.”

Oh dear lord!

His eyes narrow in on mine and I know there’s no way for me to conceal the shock that washes over my face. He sees it and laughs softly at me again. “Now, don’t be so surprised. I told you that I like you, repeatedly in fact. It’s not my fault that you don’t believe me.” He pauses a beat before adding, “Yet.”

I roll my eyes. That’s been my reaction to his fairly persistent advances. Since we met on the first day of classes, he has taken every opportunity to be flirtatious or do something sweet for me. Just the other morning, he greeted me outside of my eight a.m. class with an extra-large coffee. That gesture prompted a face-splitting smile rather than the usual eye roll. His plan might just be working.

As I desperately try to calm the swarm of butterflies that have suddenly taken flight in my belly, Bryan scans the empty lab. He quickly realizes that we’re by ourselves. “You’re all alone? Where’s Professor O’Neil, or Simon.” Flirty Bryan is gone and now concerned Bryan stands before me.

Dismissing his protectiveness, I swat my hand in front of me as if I’m shooing away a fly. “It’s no big deal, Bryan. Simon wasn’t feeling well so he left early and Professor O’Neil fell asleep at his desk so I told him to go home and I would close the lab up at eight.”

“Yeah, but you still shouldn’t be here alone.” He’s still scanning the room as if some masked killer from a slasher film is going to jump out at me.

“So then stay with me.” My words catch him off guard. Hell, they even catch me off guard. Ever since my first encounter with Courtney a few weeks ago, his drop-dead-gorgeous ex-girlfriend, I’ve tried to put some distance between us by dismissing his advances, but tonight, honestly, I’d like to spend a little time with him. Especially after his comment about banging. Okay, okay. It may have been lame and even a bit crude, but I can no longer deny that being around him ignites sparks in me that I’ve never felt before. His tender touch and kind words make me feel special and beautiful.

Just as he’s about to answer me, with something sexy I’m sure, I hear a shrill but all-too-familiar voice call out from the entry. Courtney. That bitch.

“I thought that was you, Bryan. What are you doing here? Aren’t you going to Liam’s tonight?” Liam and Bryan are co-captains of the soccer team. He’s asked me to go to a few of his games, but knowing that Courtney will be there, I always come up with some feeble excuse.

She’s twirling her long, shiny-blonde hair in between her acrylic-tipped and brightly polished nails. Ugh, she makes me want to gag. But, rather than lose my lunch all over the place, I busy myself with packing up my things as it’s nearly time to close up the lab.

Bryan lets his gaze fall back on me one last time before walking toward Courtney. So much for thinking he really wanted to spend some time with me.

As I’m shoving my books into my bag, I can vaguely overhear his venomous whisper. “What are you doing here? I told you the other morning that we’re done.” Bryan’s hand is clamped around her upper arm as he drags her out of the room. There’s part of me that wants to take in the scene before me at face value. I want to believe that he’s really done with her, and the morning that he’s talking about is the morning that he brushed her off while chasing after me, but that kind of stuff only happens in the movies, right?

I’m more aggravated at him than I should be, because, honestly, he hasn’t done anything wrong. I huff at him as I brush past his rather animated ongoing conversation with Courtney. I hear bits of it stream into my consciousness and I try to dismiss my stupidity for even believing, if only for a minute, that he really wants me.

She’s droning on about still loving him and him making the biggest mistake of his life for letting her go. He’s all but seething at her, telling her that he was never hers to lose. When he catches sight of my fiery-red hair moving past him, I see his eyes widen and hear his tone harden.

“I’m done, Courtney. We’re through.” There’s a finality there that even I can hear, but Courtney pays no mind to it. Instantly glued to the spot, I watch completely in awe of what I’m seeing.

Bryan’s back is half-way to me, but Courtney has full view of my shocked expression as she eyes me over Bryan’s strongly muscled shoulders. Wrapping her arms around his neck, as a snake would constrict its prey, she makes eye contact with me. When her tongue slithers out of her peachy, plump lips, my gut twists in sickness.

“You can pretend all you want, Bryan. But, I know that you still want me.” Her tongue licks the outer shell of his ear and I have to look away. I’ve envisioned licking the very same spot myself.

Utterly disgusted, I force my feet to peel away from the floor. Sprinting down the empty hallway, I find myself near tears.

I fell for it. I actually believed that he wanted me, when, in reality, I’m just a distraction. She obviously still wants him and she’s not going to stop until she has him. She licked his ear for God’s sake. I can’t compete with her.

I’ve never even been in the same league as girls like her.

When I make it back to my suite, which is in a building not all that far from the computer lab, I’m glad to find that it’s empty. I don’t know where everyone else is, and honestly, I just don’t care. I’m more than happy to drown my foolish sorrows in a pint of ice cream and a
Friends
rerun.

Slumping down into the comfy couch, I force back the tears that threaten. I mean just how stupid was I to think that Bryan was interested in me. Sure, he made a comment about sleeping together, but what hunky and horny college guy would willingly pass up an opportunity to get some ass. Obviously not Bryan.

Just as my spoon hits the top layer of peanut butter and fudge swirled ice cream, I’m startled by the loud banging on my door. Rolling my eyes and huffing a more-than-pissed-off sigh, I walk toward the door, all but yelling, “What the hell do you want?” without even asking who it is.

Needless to say, I’m more than shocked when I hear Bryan’s deep and very apologetic voice vibrate through the metal door. “It’s me, Melanie. Please open the door. I need to talk to you.”

The softly pleading tone of his words is all I need to turn the knob and let him enter my world.

When Bryan’s eyes rake over my body, I realize what a disheveled mess I look like. I changed into sweats and an old, frumpy T-shirt as soon as I got back to my room. My hair is in a loosely knotted bun of wild and unruly curls and it makes me look like a hot mess. Well, after seeing Courtney lay claim to him right before my eyes, that’s exactly how I feel—one jealousy ridden and riled up hot mess.

Arms crossed over my chest and toe tapping not so patiently in front of me, I huff out, “What do you want, Bryan?”

Leaning his shoulder up against the door frame, with his legs crossed at the heels, he kind of looks like James Dean—cool, unaffected and sexy as hell. “I already told you what I want, but you refuse to listen to me.” Just for effect, he lets his eyes travel the length of my body once more before asking, “Can I come in or are you going to make me explain everything to you from the hallway?” There’s a seriousness to his words that disarms me. We’re not just talking about the scene that just played out at the lab.

Rolling my eyes and huffing like a little girl suddenly seems inappropriate. Stepping to the side and extending my arm, I look up at him and smile warmly. “Umm, yeah. Come on in.”

Bryan walks over to the stools at the kitchen counter as I make my way to the fridge to get us a drink. After sliding a bottle of water in front of him, I twist the cap on my own and sit on the stool next to him. At almost the same time, we turn so that we face each other. We’re so close that our knees are nearly touching. I stifle a smile as the memory of sitting like this at work replays in my mind.

Long moments of awkward silence stretch out between us as we both sip at our chilled water. He’s bouncing his leg up and down so frantically that I’m afraid he’s going to break the stool. Maddy and I put them together so I can personally attest to their shoddiness.

Timidly, I place my hand on his vibrating leg to try to and calm him. It’s there—that
something
that’s there every time we touch. It was there when he helped me with my bloody nose, when our fingers were laced together as we walked to class, when our eyes met time and time again.