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“And how, pray tell, did you get this? And while we’re at it, tell me about this one.” She traced her finger over the scar through my eyebrow on the opposite side of my face and my eyelids fluttered…actually fucking fluttered.
I couldn’t exactly tell her that I got one taking out an enforcer for a rival syndicate and the other was from fighting in underground matches where the loser didn’t walk away. “What can I say? I got in a lot of scraps in my younger years.”
She smirks, “Did you start them?”
I couldn’t help my lips twitching. “Some of them.”
“Well, you’re very combative as a person, you know?”
“No, I’m not,” I growl, much to her amusement. Being the one to make her smile made my heart do a funny thud in my chest.
“I do like this, though,” she almost whispered as her mirth died down and went back to stroking my beard.Fuck. How can I be getting turned on from such an innocent touch?
I swallowed hard and clenched my fists to stop from reaching out to stroke her cheek. I need to stop this.
“You know, I’ve never kissed someone with a beard…” she tilted her head watching her fingers as they dug into the russet whiskers of my jaw, almost speaking to herself more than me.
I grabbed her wrist, stopping her touch and stopping me from losing all my fucking control. “So, what do I have to do?” I jerk my head to her laptop, trying desperately to distract both of us from the crackle of electricity building between us.
Three weeks later I walked onto campus to collect my resubmitted work, with a strangely nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Elle insisted on coming with me as she had a lecture later in the day, so decided she may as well walk with me. Picking up on my mood, she seemed to be trying to distract me or entertain me, or something. She sang old pop songs doing a walking dance routine as we went. Normally I would find that too embarrassing to allow it to continue, but I found myself laughing at her and marvelling at how good her voice sounded even as she moved and giggled. The thought of Elle witnessing me receiving my work back with no improvement had my pulse racing. Not sure I’d ever had anxiety before. Not a fan, but Elle’s travelling show was helping, even if I would never tell her as much.
Professor Dick-Face had disagreed about accepting my resubmission. Luckily for me, my little rottweiler had been there, too, and she argued with him like she was in Law & Order. She quoted the student handbook and pointed out the comments he’d made on my original paper that were completely unnecessary. She took the slip of paper from my hand that I had just been issued by the university to confirm that I was in fact dyslexic and shoved it into his chest, scowling. I don’t need anyone to stand up for me; I can win a battle of brawn against most with my eyes closed. But using my words had never been a strong suit. Although I wanted to laugh at all five-foot-six of her standing in front of me, fighting my fight, I also felt immensely overwhelmed by her fire…for me.
We made our way to the faculty office to collect my paper and there was a small queue. We waited side-by-side in awkward silence. I didn’t realise I was fidgeting until Elle placed a calming hand on my arm and gave me a warm smile in an attempt at reassurance. That only made me grunt, at which she dropped her hand and rolled her eyes. I gave my name to the clerk, and she quickly found my paper, handing it over. We headed back out into the sunshine and away from any crowds, and Elle stepped away to give me a second to look at the damned thing.
I’m not an emotional person. Never have been. Never felt particularly proud of myself. I don’t say that in a sad way, just factually. But I got a lump in my throat and a dopey smile spreadacross my face when I saw that my 53% was now an 87%. Like the absolute sap that I am, I couldn’t help but think how fucking stoked my mum was going to be when I told her.
I looked up to see Elle watching me intensely and when she saw my expression, she lit up with excitement. Seeing her happy for me and suddenly overcome with gratitude for her help, I let go of the hard veneer I wore and wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting and spinning her. She giggled and draped her arms on my shoulder. I took her by complete surprise when I pushed my lips to hers. I surprised myself, too, to be honest. I kept my lips together and my tongue in check, I certainly couldn’t taste her. If I did, my hands would be up her skirt before I could think about it, witnesses be damned. When I broke away, she let out a small whimper of protest and I growled from deep in my chest.
“That’s all you’re getting from me, trouble.” I didn’t let her go though, I liked the feeling of her body against mine and I wasn’t ready to lose it just yet.
She rolled her eyes, a reaction I often instilled in her. “I don’t know why you boys keep calling me that.”
“Oh, I think you know exactly why.”
Her smile said it all. Then she lit up all over again like she’d just had a great revelation.
“What?”
“I told you I’d get a proper hug from you one day.”
At that, I let my head fall back and I laughed, a full-on throaty laugh. She slid down my body to find her feet back on solid ground, smiling at me in slight surprise and I walked her to the student café to buy her a tea before her lecture.
6
ELLE
“Are you fucking serious?” I was fuming. I’m sure the Tinkerbell pyjamas I wore to lounge around the house demeaned my anger, but there wasn’t a lot to be done about that.
“Babe…”
“Ah, ah, ah. You don’tbabeme.”
“Elle,” he tried a soothing tone, but he was only succeeding a winding me up further.
“Let me get this straight. You asked me out and I said no, you asked me again and I said no, you then begged me to go out with you and I gave in, against my better judgement. Now, you’re telling me, after just one date, that we’re better off as friends?”
Steve just shrugged. He was good looking, tall and broad with mousy brown hair and dark brown eyes. I kind of thought he was the bargain basement version of Lance when I’d first met him. One of the reasons I wasn’t keen on going out with him, that and the fact that I wasn’t particularly looking to date. Casual hook ups and one-night stands were working for me just fine, but Steve had been sweet and charming so I let him take me out on a date. The date ended with some pretty average sex, which I hadn’t planned on, but I’d had a few wines and thought, why not?
