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Hearing him say my name like that sends shivers down my spine. Reaching the door I yank on it.
It’s locked. Shit!
I frantically mess with the door, only to hear his footsteps slowly coming up the tiled stairs.
My eyes dart around the door as I shake it violently, unable to get it open as he continues approaching.
Suddenly one of the double doors frees, coming in my direction as I quickly move through and throw myself into Sam’s arms, kicking the door shut behind me.
“You okay? What happened?” he asks.
“Sorry, I just…fell asleep in class and had a bad dream.”
His finger finds my chin and he lifts it, tears threatening to fall. “Erica,” he says in a stern voice, not talking down to me, but letting me know he means business. “One of the things I like most about you is how honest you are. And I know you’re not being honest with me now, so don’t tell me you are. What happened?”
“Let’s talk about it somewhere else.”
With my head buried in his chest I can feel his entire body shaking, his muscles rippling. “Is there someone on the other side of those doors you’re protecting?”
“Sam. Let’s just go.”
I grab his hand and take off but he doesn’t budge, rooted to his spot. I jerk his hand once again and finally he exhales hard, his eyes still on those doors before he turns and walks with me.
Without speaking we walk briskly off campus to the Starbucks where we’d planned to meet in the first place. I’m actually surprised he was in front of my class. He knows what class I have at that hour, because I forwarded him my schedule just last night when he asked to see it, curious to be more involved in my life, but I didn’t think he’d track down the actual building and lecture hall where it was.
“I wanted to surprise you,” he says, handing me a rose I didn’t even see him holding amidst all the commotion.
“Awww. Thank you,” I say, as he puts his big hand on the small of my back, my body flush with goosebumps, as his other hand holds the door open and I enter Starbucks in front of him.
He plants a kiss on my cheek and without us needing to communicate further I head for our booth before someone else grabs it while he gets in line to order our drinks. He knows what I want without me having to say anything. The attention to detail and familiarity are nice, and I’m falling into a comfortable routine with him. Fast.
My nerves start to calm and a few minutes later he’s at our booth with our coffee. Surprisingly he doesn’t bring up the incident, instead just focusing on happy things, which really shocks me. He knows I don’t want to talk about it right now so he just lets it go, understanding what I need and giving me time and space, knowing I’ll bring it up if and when I need to, which I really appreciate.
He’s a man like no other, my man, and I’m really starting to fall for him. Hard.
11
Sam
The next day
I tug at my visor and take a few practice swings with the pickleball racket I purchased not an hour ago.
Originally I went to REI to get the damn thing, before remembering they work on a membership setup, like Costco and Sam’s Club. That wasn’t going to work as I wasn’t about to hand over my ID for this purchase.
Sport Chalet took cash, and I got all the gear I needed to put together my pickleball outfit before I walked out the door, scuffed the equipment on the curb to make it look like it wasn’t totally new and then headed over to the courts, to get a game.
But not just any game.
I’m here to team up with Keith Allen, Erica’s Marketing 402 professor. He’s the prick who teaches the class she came running out of yesterday, damn near crying.
I didn’t have to ask her anymore because upsetting my girl like that was enough for me to enact revenge. It was only a matter of what kind, and the decision I made in that regard was solidified after a quick Google search showed this piece of shit is new in town, having been hired after leaving his last two universities with sexual harassment charges.
He’s not going to get one at Erica’s college, or any university in the future because he fucked up royally by getting on my bad side. I’m going to be the judge, jury, and executioner that those other institutions of higher learning couldn’t be.
Today.
“Boom! Another victory,” he says, shaking hands with the opposing two players and high-fiving his teammate. It’s no coincidence they’re all girls. The prick’s a hunter after all, but while he hunts unsuspecting women I hunt men just like him. He’s not ready for my level. He’s never going to see it coming.
