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She looks at me searchingly, as if looking for judgment. She won’t find any from me.
“That’s why I needed a fake boyfriend. Believe me, that’s the only reason I spent any time at all with someone like Nick Fuckton. Nick Ruckfuck. Damn it, now you’ve got me doing it! I can’t even say his name right when I’m trying.” She laughs, then instantly gets serious again.
“Sorry, not sorry.” I smile back. “He’ll always be Dickless Fuckface to me.”
That earns me a woeful laugh. “Anyway. The break-in? Nick went through my planner and found the professor’s garage security code, which I’d written down there. But I did not go with him and vandalize his house. That was Becca, I swear on my life.”
“I believe you,” I assure her. “So, okay, that brings us to today. Did something new happen? Has he threatened you? Because I will fuck a bitch-face up. He’ll be sipping liquid meals through a straw and wearing dentures.”
She grimaces. “He didn’t threaten me again. He stole from me.”
“What did he steal?” I give her a puzzled look.
“When we were dating, I sent him some poems I’d written. And he stole them and published them in his latest poetry book, and I have no way to prove it, and I’m just really angry. First of all, those poems were very personal, and secondly, that’s my damn work, damn it!” She leaps to her feet, walks over to her desk, and grabs a book. She brings it over to me, and I grimace at the face of the smug idiot on the cover. Professor Alex Nass. I file that name in my memory bank under the heading Pound his face in.
She gives me a woeful look. “Clair loved the poems. She didn’t know that I wrote them. He’s going to get all this credit for my work.”
“What an absolute fucking tool,” I marvel. “Sometimes I hate my own gender. Ruby, that absolutely sucks. I’m so sorry he did that.”
“Thank you for being mad on my behalf. That actually means a lot to me.” She manages a smile. “Look. In the greater scheme of things, I’m a lucky girl. I’m young. I have my health. I’m close to graduating from a very prestigious university. I’ve got friends. I’ve got my sister. Things could be much worse. This sucks, but I will move on.”
“All of those things are true, but that doesn’t mean the little shit gets to get away with this. I swear to God I will find a way to take him down,” I vow.
She winces. “I don’t know how. He’s well-liked, he’s really good at laying on the fake charm, and he’s got tenure. If I could prove the plagiarism, I’d have him, but I can’t. He wins again.”
“No, he most certainly does not. Just give me some time to think.”
Her phone rings, and she stands up. I leap to my feet. “Leave it, we’re still talking.”
“It’s Clair. I should probably get it,” she protests.
“Nope,” I say stubbornly. She tries to grab it. I lunge in front of her. We somehow get tangled up, trip, and fall onto her bed.
I’m on top of her.
I am on top of Ruby James, and I am instantly, painfully rock hard with arousal.
I’m embarrassed to admit how many times I’ve fantasized about just this moment when I’m in my shower.
She’s made me come, a lot.
She’s just never been there with me.
The next thing I know, her pillow-soft lips are brushing against mine, and I am so hard it’s painful.
I don’t know who started the kiss. I think it was her, but I’m sure as hell not stopping her.
She arches her back, pressing up against me. Her body is slim and firm. Her nipples are hard and her small, perfect breasts crush into my chest.
Her lips part. I slide a finger under her chin and kiss her hard, my tongue probing the warm, silken cave of her mouth. She moans and slides a leg over mine.
My body is one aching throb of desire. She’s soft and tastes like berry wine. Time seems to vanish. I’m not sure how long I’ve been kissing her when she reaches up to unbutton my shirt, and that snaps me back to reluctant reality.
I slide away from her, sitting up straight.
“No.” I shake my head.
“No?” Her eyes widen in confusion. “You don’t want me?”
