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Cherise has a disarming, open-hearted nature about her. It makes me wonder what happened to make Cecily so closed off and mysterious. “Tell you what. I’ll do one better than that,” I say, then tell Cherise an idea I have.
It’s a low-down dirty trick to try to win over Cecily’s heart. But I’m a low-down dirty dog according to the tabloids, so why not own it?
Chapter Nine
Cecily
What is he doing here? Again? Or still?
I double back from the front exit of the library, choosing instead a seldom-walked path from the rear exit to the communications building, which passes through a grove of trees along the undeveloped fringe of the campus.
It’s not that I don’t want to see Milo. I admit that I’m warming up to him. But that’s the problem. He’s distracting, and I have to focus on my final exam. Also, I don’t want him following me to my last meeting with my staff before winter break. I can’t be thinking about nibbling that belly, or about those sinewy arms pinning me down, if I’m trying to answer essay questions about Edward R. Morrow.
I don’t know why more people don’t walk here. It’s wild and somewhat untouched by landscapers. Beautiful, actually.
I’m about halfway to the communications building when I hear footsteps behind me. I smirk and keep walking, assuming it’s my personal bodyguard Milo. When I keep going and don’t hear him call out, I turn to look.
Just at the moment that I do, I’m taken aback by what I see.
Milo isn’t following me. It’s Chet from the improv troop, walking toward me with a blank look on his face. I step off the sidewalk to let him pass, figuring he’s probably on his way somewhere. But he also steps away from the path and doesn’t stop until he’s in my face.
“I’m curious. Do you think you’re special?”
He’s supposedly a funny guy, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to make a joke.
I stare him down with my fiercest look, even though inside, I’m a little apprehensive that the two of us are alone on this path at the ass-end of campus. The sky is darkening quickly now at five p.m. “My daddy always says so,” I answer.
He doesn’t seem interested in what my daddy says. “You think you know everything because your sister is an unfunny comedian who slept her way onto TV? You think you can say whatever you want and get away with it because you have a bodyguard now? Must be nice to have that kind of money.”
I open my mo
uth to speak, but I don’t know which part of what he said I want to address first. I’m not even going to respond that repulsive question about Chloe. “I…wait…what? No, that guy is not a bodyguard. Well, maybe he is but not literally. Wait a minute…do you really not know who he is?” Suddenly I hear all of my sisters’ voices teasing me in my head. “What happened to the badass baby of the family who takes no shit?!” I imagine them saying if they watched this scene play out, wondering why I’m explaining anything to this idiot.
I plant my feet and point up in Chet’s face. “No. I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. And by the way, you’d better develop a thicker skin if you want to do comedy. Just my two cents. So, why don’t you just pop a Xanax or go make a complaint to the department chair.”
“You sure got a big mouth for someone with zero talent.”
“You sure have zero manners. Who fuckin’ raised you?” I spit back. I spin around to head up the path to continue on my way, but Chet quickly steps around and blocks me. I scoff and turn, headed back toward the library. I’ll be late for a staff meeting, but at least I can try to shake this guy off me when we’re around other people. This area is feeling a little too isolated at the moment.
When he puts his hand on my arm to swing me back around to face him, I blurt, “What the fuck are you doing? Get your hand off me!”
I do not have time for bullshit.
That’s when I feel Chet’s thumb stroke up my upper arm over the sleeve of my sweatshirt, and I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Maybe I’ll remember my manners after you do me a favor.”
My gaze goes from his hand up to his flashing eyes. “Is this supposed to be a joke? Maybe if I speak in improv, you’ll get it. Here’s my location suggestion: Go to hell. Occupation? Eat shit. Wait, there’s usually a third suggestion…what is it again?”
Chet’s grip tightens on my arm, and now I think I’ve pushed him a little too far.
“Girlie,” he starts to growl, his teeth gritted. “You don’t get it—”
My mind scrambles. I don’t know how I’m going to get myself out of this. Suddenly, Chet so abruptly jerks his hand away in a blur of gray, that I stumble and almost fall.
I steady myself and look over to see that the flash of gray is Milo, pinning Chet up against a tree.
Holy shit.
“Milo! What are you doing back here?”
