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Admittedly, he’s attractive. If he weren’t, I’d have already walked away. But I don’t like his arrogance or the way he assumes he’s hot shit. It makes me want to take him down a peg. “How about you tell me something about yourself before I lose interest? You have about ten seconds before I ditch you for some egg rolls from Panda Express.”
Theo knits his eyebrows together, and I can tell from the look on his face that he’s judging whether I’m worth the trouble. I bet he’s used to girls falling over themselves to go on a date withhim. He probably isn’t used to having to work for someone’s attention. But his response takes me by surprise.
“I know you walked into the union from the west entrance. I was in the store across the way looking at shirts. I send one to my mom at the beginning of every year because she likes to wear it to my games. I’m a football player,” he says, puffing his chest out with pride. “But I saw you walk by, and I had to follow you. I knew if I didn’t, I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”
Maybe he sees something in me, maybe not, but he makes me laugh. “The rest of your life?” I question, certain that he’s blowing smoke up my ass. Theo is kind of corny, but he might be exactly what I’m looking for to forget Niccolo.
He holds up a hand in defense. “Swear to God. And I’m not the kind of man that lives with regrets, you know,” Theo adds with a wink.
“Alright, mama’s boy. Let’s get dinner, and you can tell me more about your mom and football career.” This might be a mistake, but it’s one dinner in the student union. What could it hurt?
A lazy, indulgent smile appears on his face; he got exactly what he wanted. “Did I tell you I’m the BU quarterback?” Theo winks. “You’re walking with royalty.”
That explains the arrogance, but I’m in too deep now. At the very least, I’ll have someone pretty to look at while I eat. “Have you considered deflating your head before you come inside? I’m surprised you can make it through the doors.”
This could be the start of exactly what I need. I’m not looking for forever; I just want someone to get my mind off my stepfather. And self-obsessed, arrogant quarterback Theo might be precisely what the doctor ordered.
Chapter 11
Niccolo
It’s been two weeks since I took Christine to Manhattan to retrieve her car. After our intimate moment at the mechanic’s shop, I thought she would have mellowed out a bit and seen that I only want what’s best for her. In retrospect, I’m not sure what made me think that. Christine has never been very willing to do what I want her to.
Instead, she’s made a complete 180 from the moment we shared. It’s as if getting her car back gave her license to be an even bigger brat. I wouldn’t say she’s deliberately trying to piss me off, but I wouldn’t put it past her.
She comes into class three times a week and spends the hour chatting with her little buddy, Sienna. The two of them whisper behind their hands and giggle the hour away. Sometimes, Christine makes direct eye contact with me while she’s interrupting the class. It makes me question whether her conduct is accidental or if she’s trying to incite me to action.
To Sienna’s credit, I don’t think any of the interruptions are her fault. I did a little digging into her background and didn’t find so much as a detention. She’s a nice girl from Duluth, Minnesota,with a penchant for reading and a blue ribbon in quilting from the county fair three years ago. Sienna doesn’t strike me as the type of person to make waves, which means all the interruptions are courtesy of my stepdaughter.
Since I can neither confirm nor deny that Christine’s trying to piss me off on purpose, I bottle up my frustration until I’m ready to explode. At least once per hour, I have to snap my fingers at the two of them to redirect their attention. My minute outbursts come with snickers from the other students as they giggle and laugh at someone else getting into trouble. It often shuts Sienna up for a few minutes, but Christine is harder to control. Day by day, I get closer to my breaking point until a single whispered phrase takes me over the edge.
“Is he a good kisser?” Sienna asks.
“Yes,” I explode in the middle of a sentence, spinning around to face the two of them like a feline ready to pounce on its prey. “Tell us, Ms. Lucatello. Who is he?” I demand loudly enough to wake the sleeping students in the back of the room. “And is he a good kisser? I think this is a more important discussion than the one we’re having on brain abnormalities and personality disorders.”
Christine’s face is a mixture of emotions. Her cheeks are flushed pink with embarrassment, but her expression is one of anger. Her eyebrows furrow together, and her lips purse tight in disapproval, making her look even more stern. “Is there a problem,Professor?”
She’s an audacious little thing and prone to outbursts the same as me, but I’m sick and tired of listening to her whisper and giggle through my class. “No problem at all. I just figured since your conversation is so fascinating that neither you nor MissRichler can pay attention, the rest of the class should weigh in. Believe me when I say we are all waiting on bated breath to find out who your mystery kisser is.” I gesture toward the students behind her, which only causes the blush on her cheeks to deepen.
A tense moment passes before Christine gets to her feet, and I pin her with a glare. “Oh, no, Miss Lucatello, don’t leave. In fact, please stay while I dismiss the rest of the class early.” Nobody stirs. The students stare motionless, their faces blank with shock. There is no scuffling of feet, no shuffling of papers, not even a whisper or murmur. “Did you not hear me?” I look around, turning my anger on the rest of them. “You are all free to leave. Go to lunch early. Take a nap. Work on the paper that’s due next week. I don’t care. Just get out.”
The sound of closing laptops and rustling papers is almost deafening in the quiet room. But slowly, the other students get up from their seats, whispering to each other about my shocking explosion. Christine stays standing by her chair, facing me.
“You’re an ass, you know that?” She asks before everyone is gone. A few stragglers wait by the door, eyes wide as they listen in on our conversation. “You didn’t have to embarrass me in front of the entire lecture hall. You could have tried to ask me politely to stop talking. Or you could have dismissed me. You didn’t have to air my dirty laundry in front of everybody like that.” The accusatory tone in her voice makes me homicidal.
I glare at the group of kids by the door, and they take it as a sign to scurry. They’re gone within seconds, leaving Christine and me alone. “This is a classroom; it’s a place of learning. Listening to you and that girl chatter about boys the entire hour is a waste of your time and mine.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous of what?” I roll my eyes and curl my upper lip as I fling my arms across my chest. My mouth is contorted with apathy and defiance, my gaze hard and challenging as I watch her for a reaction.
Christine narrows her eyes at me and steps forward, dropping her bag on the ground with an audible thud. “You’re jealous that instead of lettingyoufuck me, I’m getting real close and personal with the BU quarterback, and I’m going to lethimfuck me instead.”
I succumb to blind rage. It jolts me forward, and I’m ready to hurt her as badly as she hurt me, but she raises a hand at the last minute, stopping me in my tracks.
“Not so fast, Nic.” Christine reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a cell phone. A few quick swipes on the screen, and she’s pointing it at me. “You better be careful. Whatever you plan to do, I’m recording. I’m not letting you manhandle me anymore. I’ll go to HR,” she threatens.
I make a split-second decision to say fuck it. Fuck the stupid camera on her phone taking a video of this interaction. And fuck her threat to go to Human Resources. At the end of the day, she is my stepdaughter, and I can do whatever I want to her.
