Part 14 (2/2)

I pivot to face him, and even without hearing Rob's side, my respect for Professor Bridges decreases. ”Why?”

He slides his hand off my back and laces our fingers together. ”The movie is going to start, let's go.” He tugs me forward but I dig my heels in, staying firm. He finally figures out I'm not leaving without an answer and a long exasperated breath falls from his mouth. ”You want details?” His shoulders fall.

”Yep.”

He props up on the cement ledge and I slide in to occupy the s.p.a.ce between his legs, resting my hands on his thighs.

”It's simple. He gave me s.h.i.+t in the middle of cla.s.s. Spouting how I'm wasting my life and c.r.a.p. I walked out and never returned.”

”What an a.s.s.”

”Not really.”

My eyes shoot up to see his casual expression. ”Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders. ”I deserved it. He was trying to bully me into studying, doing the cla.s.s work, and being the student he recruited.”

”Recruited?”

How much do I not know about this man?

He inhales a deep breath and then releases it. ”I was on a scholars.h.i.+p.”

My eyes must widen because he shakes his head. ”Don't look so surprised. The dips.h.i.+t guitarist can read.”

I step back and huff from his a.s.sumption that I thought he was stupid. He jumps off the cement ledge. ”Let's just go.” He leaves me in the vacant strip of sidewalk between the buildings.

”Really? You actually think I'd be with you if I thought you were stupid?” I catch up to him before he can descend down the first step. ”I'm just surprised you threw it away.”

His icy eyes flick to me and then forward again. ”I'm not the same person. You don't know the Rob from back then.”

I lightly grab his elbow to slow him down and he whips around already in defense mode. ”I know the Rob now and you're not stupid, far from it. So, how about you stop running and actually talk to me.”

He roams over to a bench and I follow, sitting down next to him. His arm rests along the top and his hand cups my shoulder, pulling for me to slide closer. Loving the warmth he gives me, I go. ”I'm sorry,” he mumbles and kisses my temple. ”Professor Bridges just has a way of making me see red.”

”Why?”

”Because he reminds me of my biggest regret.”

His lips dip down and I wish I had some way of cheering him up.

”Then come back.” The answer is simple, right?

”You don't get it. Then he wins.”

”This isn't about winning. You're being stubborn.”

He unhooks his arm and stands. ”Let's just go home; I don't want to go to the movies anymore.”

”Oh stop being such a lump. We can talk about this later, but you're taking me to the movies.” I don't wait for him to answer, but instead I stride straight to his illegally parked car.

At first I don't hear the footsteps behind me, but he comes to his senses and before I reach the car door, he's there opening it for me. When I peer up at him, arching my eyebrows, his eyes ping anywhere but at me. ”You win, okay?”

I place my hand on the side of his stomach and step closer. ”I don't want to win. I want you to win.” With a small smile, I climb into his car.

In the solitude of his car for the limited time it takes him to jog around, I try to absorb the information he gave me. By no means did I think Rob was some slacker that Western kicked out, but a scholars.h.i.+p? That's a whole other realm. Since it's a touchy subject, I'm not going to press because regardless if he comes back or not, he has to make that decision.

”What are we going to see?” he asks once we're on the road.

”You choose.”

”No, ladies choice.” His hand finds my thigh and I draw in a breath, relieved things aren't awkward after the Professor Bridges and returning to school discussion.

”We can decide when we get there.”

”Sounds perfect.” He shoots a smile over to me in pa.s.sing. It's like a flick of a light switch how fast his mood can change. As though he's gradually transforming back to who he is, or inspires to be.

WHAT THE h.e.l.l is wrong with me? Thank G.o.d we're going to the movies so I can shove my mouth full of popcorn to the secrets stop spilling. She must think I'm an all-round f.u.c.k-up. First I tell her about the accident and Carly, now she knows I threw away a scholars.h.i.+p because of pride. Pride of what, I still don't know.

Even without thinking about Paige, Professor Bridges threw me off my game. I should have figured out he was Paige's professor and asked her to meet me at home, or down the street. When he whispered to call him as he sauntered by, it only brought guilt of what I did. If I even decide to enroll again, our paths will cross, so maybe I should get the slaying of my ego over with and meet with the man who once referred to me as a new mind with brilliant ideas.

By the time we're stepping up the stairs to the movie theater, with our arms filled with popcorn, drinks and candy, Professor Bridges has vanished from the depths of my mind with Paige's swaying a.s.s replacing him. She glances over her shoulder to make sure I'm following her. What, is she crazy? I'd follow her into a storm of gunfire.

I'm not sure why Paige's choice to sit in the last row surprises me. Sometimes it's like our minds are one. When I suggested a movie, you better be d.a.m.ned I expected some lip action. Especially since we're back to platonic-a foot away-roommates with Dex and Chrissy's return.

She sits down and peers around to the other six people sprinkled in the rows down from ours. ”Is the last row okay with you?”

”f.u.c.k yeah.” I plop down next to her, placing the pop in the cup holder between us.

She wiggles back and forth, as though she's getting comfortable in her s.p.a.ce. Imagining her a.s.s wiggling into my c.o.c.k this morning flicks to mind. The popcorn isn't even in my lap before her hand is digging in the bucket. When I watch her dumbfounded in awe as she munches the b.u.t.tery kernels, she notices and then cracks up. She stops chewing and her hand full of popcorn drops to her lap.

”You like your popcorn?” I joke with her, because it's cute the way her tongue sneaks out and grabs each kernel, drawing it into her mouth. How can an act so normal be so s.e.xual? Because it's her.

”I'm starving,” she mumbles through a mouthful and then swallows. The more she becomes comfortable with me, the more attractive I find her. She helps herself to my gum or water in my car, and now she goes all caveman on the popcorn. I smile and confusion crosses her face, but I keep my thoughts to myself. Maybe because I'm still absorbing them myself.

The lights dim and the audio gets louder, signaling the movie is starting, or rather the twenty minutes of previews.

”I would have fed you,” I whisper in her ear and she shoos me with her hand.

”No, No. This is great.” She points at the popcorn in my lap and then relaxes back to her seat.

A half hour into the movie, the bad guys are chasing the good guy and I'm completely enthralled in what's about to happen when Paige's hand slips over our armrest. I s.h.i.+ft in my seat as she cups my package through my jeans. Her palm rubs along the length of me as blood rushes to my d.i.c.k that's growing thicker with each swipe of her hand.

She leans over, and her tongue licks my neck up to my earlobe. ”Relax,” she whispers and then a groan leaves my lips when she ventures back to her side.

I eye her as she moves our drink over to her side and slowly lifts the armrest between us. My blood begins pumping and I can't keep my a.s.s in the seat from the antic.i.p.ation of what's about to happen.

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