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“Fuck.” He closed his eyes. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
“It happened, Ian, and we
both liked it. Admit it.”
He shook his head slowly. “Not now.”
“Admit it, Ian. Admit it or I’ll tell Lena what happened.”
I was just joking, but he must have taken me seriously because he grasped my elbow tightly and, in a voice low enough only I could hear, hissed, “Enough. Let’s talk about this outside.”
“No.” I shook him off. “I want to talk about it here.”
“I’m serious, Lex.”
Moments passed as we glared at each other until finally, I relented. “Fine. Meet me outside.”
I left the lounge and went outside into the courtyard, leaned against the side of the building to wait for him. Less than a minute later he emerged from the building but instead of stopping beside me, he kept walking toward the parking lot, urging me to follow. When we were by the large oak tree far away from where anyone could overhear or see us, he turned around to face me.
“Yeah, I liked it,” he said finally, shoving a hand through his hair. “But you can’t say that kind of thing, and especially when other people are around. I’m your RC.”
“So now age isn’t an issue, that is,” I muttered and crossed my arms. “You should just come out with it. Just say, ‘I had a good time and now I’m done with you.’”
His jaw clenched. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m trying to be a good guy here. You’re drunk and I should really be sending you back to your room.”
“You’re just looking out for yourself!” I snapped. “And I’m not some child you can send to her room. If you don’t want to be around me when I’m drunk, then leave. It’s my party.”
I started back toward the residence, but he blocked my path. “I came because I wanted to look out for you. The moment Lena told me about your party and getting you drunk, I was worried about you. I meant it when I said that comment about college guys. You need to be careful.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides. Another beer, and I might have punched him. “Seriously? That’s why you came? To protect me? Do me a favor and don’t follow me back in. You’re officially uninvited.”
He placed a hand on his heart, a mocking smile on his usually beautiful face. “Uninvited? Ouch, that hurts. If I wanted to, I could shut it down.”
Angry tears burned my eyes. “Fine. Do it. Ruin what has already turned out to be a shitty birthday.”
He sighed as I shoved past him again. “Lex, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to ruin your day. Far from it.”
But I didn’t look back or respond. Instead I stomped back to the building, dashing my tears away angrily. Screw Ian Crawford.
Or even better—don’t.
I didn’t need him in my life complicating everything up. I should have trusted my gut instinct when I heard the story about Vanessa and tried harder to stay away from him.
Now I was just another name on his list.
Chapter Eight
I was still pissed at Ian on Monday.
The rest of my party I’d done whatever I could to forget about him…and it worked. I got drunk on all the shots the guys continued to pour me and danced with the other girls. Instead of getting taken advantage of like Ian feared, I ended up in the bathroom with Lena holding back my hair while my party continued downstairs.
As Lena joked the next morning, it was the perfect initiation into the adult world.
The rest of the weekend everyone slapped me on the back and told me what a great party it was. I smiled sheepishly when I didn’t remember someone. Apparently they remembered me.
But Monday I was in a pissy mood, and it had everything to do with my 8 a.m. class. I entered the lecture hall from the same door as usual and saw Ian in our usual spot. I paused, waiting for him to look up and notice me. He was unwrapping his banana bread with a maddeningly adorable look of concentration on his face. Sensing he was being watched, he glanced up. Smiled uncertainly when he saw me and straightened in his seat.
Instead of climbing the stairs to meet him, I pivoted and walked down a few rows.
As I settled down in my seat, my cell vibrated. I pulled it out to see a text from Ian.
Nice little-girl stomp.
Gritting my teeth, I texted him back.
What’s that supposed to mean? Stop being a condescending jackass and let me focus on the lecture.
He thankfully didn’t respond. If he did, I might have thrown my phone at him. At the end of the lecture, I grabbed my stuff and disappeared into the crowd so there was no way he could talk to me.
Wednesday morning we made eye contact again when I walked in, and this time he only shook his head and chuckled when I took a different seat. The entire thing seemed to amuse him, whereas I was getting more and more irked. He was supposed to regret how he’d acted on my birthday! He was supposed to apologize. Instead, he was making me feel like I hadn’t turned eighteen after all. As if I was acting like a child.
That afternoon, I made sure to arrive at our seminar right on time so there was no risk of being alone with him. When I walked into the room, he was chatting with Stacy and Margaret, leaning back in his seat with his hands behind his head so that his shirt pulled up and revealed the line of boxer-briefs just above his jeans. He was grinning away, knowing full well Stacy couldn’t keep her eyes off his stomach and Margaret was blushing too fiercely to get a word out.
“Ah, it’s my willing partner Lex,” he announced when I entered the room. Then he turned back to the girls, cupped his mouth and said loudly, “She’s angry with me right now.”
“Aw.” Stacy crooned in a whiny voice. “Why? Poor Ian.”
I rolled my eyes and took my seat.
“Because I’m a jackass.” Grinning at me.
“Point proven,” I muttered under my breath.
Professor Durst showed up last, looking frazzled. She immediately dimmed the lights. “We’re going to start today’s seminar with a ten minute movie clip,” she said, setting up her laptop. “I want you all to pay close attention and we’ll discuss when I return.”
Stacy and Margaret reluctantly returned to their usual seats at the front of the class. Professor Durst fooled around with her laptop for a few moments and then excused herself, and the screen at the front of the room came to life. The film had absolutely nothing to do with the week’s discussion, and I suspected Professor Durst had simply been desperate to give us something to do in her absence. Still, I busied myself with taking notes.
At some point, I became aware of Ian’s eyes on me. It started like an itch at the back of my scalp, and then the hairs on my arms started to tingle. I peeked up through my eyelashes to see him watching me, the tip of his pen between his lips. His green eyes were bright in the reflection of what little light there was in the room. Somewhere in the background the film was playing, but all I noticed was the heat and weight of his gaze.
I wasn’t sure if he knew I’d caught him, so I made a point to raise my head and look directly at him. But he didn’t act the least embarrassed. In fact, he smirked and bit the end of the pen. Then his dark lashes lowered and I knew he was checking out my chest. I wrapped my cardigan tighter around myself, which only made his grin widen.
How could someone actually undress you with only his eyes? He was making such a meal out of it too, obviously taking pleasure in my discomfort as I squirmed beneath his gaze. I was so naïve. I’d thought I’d taken back the power when I left him that day, but in actuality he was the one with the power—he’d seen my most private parts, and I’d seen nothing of him.
Damn, he was good.
I looked back down at my notes, squeezing the insides of my thighs together. There was a heat growing between my legs and my thoughts were headed in all sorts of inappropriate directions. Like climbing across the table, grabbing him by the front of that tight black T-shirt that accentuated his chest and biceps so perfectly and pulling his lips against mine.
I felt something touch my leg and jumped in my seat. When I glanced up he was still watching me, that smug smile playing on his lips—but no
w his foot was inching up the inside of my jeans.
What the hell is he doing?
It felt like he’d kicked off his shoe to feel me up in class. If not for the dimmed lights and the fact we were seated at the end of the table furthest from the screen, someone would surely notice him and the tomato shade of my face. I was struggling to breathe at a normal rate, trying to remember the tricks I learned to lessen anxiety in my yoga class.
Breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth...
Ian adjusted in his seat, leaning back almost casually and crossing his arms, his eyes finally moving to the screen. At the same time, his foot disappeared...and reappeared between my legs.
I clamped on him tightly. To my horror, I whimpered softly, and a few heads turned to face me. I covered it with a cough. Once they turned back around, I grabbed his foot and dug my nails into the soft flesh and bones.
Crying out, he pulled it from my grasp. Now everyone turned to face us, and this time they narrowed their eyes suspiciously. Ian simply kept his eyes on the screen and ignored them. Stacy and Margaret were the last to look away, making eye contact and shrugging before turning back to the screen.
The moment they did, Ian looked at me and grinned. That look said everything, including Game on.
I glared at him in return.
At the end of class, I rushed out ahead of him. He called my name but I walked faster, still furious that he’d risk getting caught like that in front of our peers. And after the conversation we’d had weeks ago. And then his little lecture on being my RC.
Beautiful hypocrite.
I was striding briskly through the hallway, sure I’d lost him, when my backpack was tugged backwards and I was spun around to face him.
“Don’t walk away from me like that again.” Ian said in a dangerously low voice, his eyes narrowed. “It’s rude and I’m tired of it. Understood?”
I opened my mouth, closed it. I was angry too, but the chill in his gaze was more than a little off-putting, and there were people all around us. Now was not the time to say all the things I wanted to say.
