Perfectly Protected (Addicted To You, Book Three) (2 page)

What’s his name, Uriah? Is he coming in?”

Coach looked pained, like he wanted to just disappear. “No, he—uh—he’s not in today.”

“Christ, your star guys aren’t even here. Everyone else is here—but not your two best guys. What the hell goes on at this place?”

“It’s been a strange week,” Jansen said lamely.

“Really fucking strange, it seems.” Drew laughed. “Fighters are strange people, though.” He looked at me and grew deadly serious. “You just be ready to fight your ass off next month and we’ll be good. Understand, Justin Brown?”

I nodded.

“Because, I don’t give people second and third chances in the UFF. I don’t keep screw-ups and head cases around. Just professionals.” He searched my eyes as if trying to see into my soul. “You better be ready to commit one hundred percent, and nothing should be holding you back. If you have distractions, I guarantee you won’t last.”

Drew Ellis wasn’t just trying to scare me, I realized. Drew Ellis was telling me the truth.

LINDSAY

I could still feel his arms around me. I was running down the street toward the T

stop, my hair flying behind me, my purse bouncing against the side of my body, and I could still feel him.

For one delicious, perfect moment when I’d woken up this morning, I was perfectly content and safe. There had been no confusion about where I was, or how I got there, even though I was in a strange bed with a boy I’d just met. Because the thing was, it had felt right. It didn’t make any sense, but it did. It felt
right.

His chest had been against my back, his arms encircling my body. We’d fit together perfectly, my head on his shoulder, his legs entwined with mine. And for one exquisite moment, I’d forgotten about everything else. I’d inhaled the scent of the fabric softener on his sheets, the smell of his skin, the trail of mid-morning summer air that was floating through his open window.

But a second later, everything had changed.

I’d realized I was late for class.

I’d sprung out of bed, and so had Justin. He’d checked his phone, and then he’d gotten all strange and kind of jumpy, and the moment was ruined.

We’d both rushed out of there, and it had been awkward and weird.

But I could still feel the way his arms felt around me, the way it felt this morning to wake up next to him. It was like he’d left an imprint on me, so that even though he wasn’t with me anymore, all I had to do is close my eyes, and I could imagine the way he felt so vividly that it seemed real.

I shivered, even though it was probably seventy degrees out.

When I got to the T stop, my phone was ringing.

Justin.

I pawed through my bag and pulled out my phone just as the train was pulling into the station.

But it wasn’t Justin.

It was Rachel.

“Where the hell are you?” she demanded. “We have class in half an hour.”

“I know, I know.” There was a short blonde woman next to me, elbowing me out of the way as everyone clamored to board the train. It was rush hour, and the train was packed. But there was no way I was going to wait around for the next one, so I stood my ground.

“Are you going?”

“Of course I’m going!”

“Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, no, I don’t want you to be late, too.” Someone stepped on my foot. I tried to move away from them, but there was nowhere to go.

“Where are you?” Rachel demanded.

“On the T.”

“What stop?”

I told her.

“You’re like half an hour away still!”

“I know, and I still have to print out my paper.” I did a quick calculation in my head. It was going to be cutting it close, but I could still make it.

“Do you want me to print it out for you?”

“Could you? I would owe you big time.”

“Okay. I’ll grab your bag, too, and meet you outside class.”

I instructed her where the document was on my computer, and a few seconds later, I heard the printer whirling to life.

“Thanks, Rachel,” I said. “I owe you big time.”

“No problem.”

We hung up.

Rachel was being completely sweet, and I was so thankful to her, but I could tell she was slightly annoyed. She was probably going to ask me all kinds of questions about Justin, about what we did and where I was.

Well, she was going to be disappointed. She probably thought we’d slept together, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not only didn’t we sleep together, we hadn’t even
kissed.

There’d been a moment, in his room last night, when I’d come in wearing a towel where I was sure he was going to kiss me. I’d wanted him too so badly. I wanted him to kiss me and push me down on the bed and let his hands roam all over my body. I wouldn’t have stopped him. But he hadn’t done any of that.

I couldn’t figure it out. Why hadn’t he kissed me? The train shook and bumped down the track, and I felt my face burn. Why had I come into his room like that, wearing just a towel? I’d thought at the time that I was being sexy, but maybe it was just stupid.

The train came to a halt on the tracks. There must have been some sort of back-up, because we stayed stopped for at least five minutes. I felt myself start to break out in a sweat. Beads of perspiration pooled on the back of my neck, and I shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Just when I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, the train shot forward, causing me to slide into the person ahead of me.

A few agonizing minutes later, I got off at my stop.

I ran all the way to the science building, and by the time I got there, I was a sweaty mess. It was ten o’clock on the dot, and I raced up the three stories to the third floor. When I got there, it was two minutes past the hour.

The door to the classroom was closed, and Rachel was nowhere to be found. She must have gone inside already.

I reached out and turned the doorknob. But it was locked. I knocked softly, not wanting to disturb the lecture.

A boy in the back row reached out and opened the door for me.

“Thanks,” I whispered gratefully.

I spotted Rachel sitting all the way over to side around the middle of the room.

She must have been too late to get a seat in front. I started to creep down the side aisle toward her. Dr. Klaxton was writing something on the board, and his back was to me.

When he turned around, he called out, “Excuse me, miss, what do you think you’re doing?”

The whole class turned to look at me. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the fact that I was wearing Justin’s t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

“I’m sorry I was late, sir,” I said. “It won’t happen again.” I started to continue my path to Rachel, but before I could, Dr. Klaxton’s voice ripped through the lecture hall.

“What is your name, please?” He’d been writing with a marker on the white board, and now he capped it and turned around. He moved to his lectern and ate a jellybean from his cup.

“Lindsay Cramer.” My throat was completely dry, and I could feel everyone in the class staring at me, their eyes pricking at my skin.

“Ms. Cramer, did you read the syllabus I handed to you during our first class?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember my policy when it comes to tardiness?”

“I… I don’t remember seeing anything about that.”

Dr. Klaxton began moving up the steps that led from the front of the room to the back where the door was. He was in the aisle that went through the middle of the room, and I was standing in the aisle by the wall, frozen. “I would hope, Ms. Cramer that when you start taking a class, you would take the time to read the syllabus. If you had, you would know that I do not accept anyone coming into my class late.”

It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I didn’t know what to say. I had never been in trouble in school before. I mean, ever. Not a detention, not a write-up, nothing. I’d never even forgotten my gym clothes.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “But if you just –“

“Miss Cramer,” Dr. Klaxton said. He was at the back of the room now, and he opened the door. “Please leave.”

What else could I do? My face burning, I walked out of the classroom and into the hallway as everyone watched the show.

I felt like I was going to cry. How could this have happened? I wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, I felt completely claustrophobic. I needed to get out of the building.

I was almost outside when my cell phone started vibrating.

My mom.

In that moment, I missed her so much I could hardly stand it.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice a little wobbly. I plopped down on the front steps of the science building, not even caring that there were probably millions of disgusting germs on the concrete. I didn’t have the energy to talk and walk at the same time.

“Linds?” my mom asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” I said. As if to prove my point, my purse slouched over and my lip-gloss slid out and went rolling down the steps. A boy stepped on it, and then kept walking.. “Including the fact that some random just wrecked my favorite lip gloss.”

My mom laughed. Not in a mean way, but in the kind of way that let me know she thought that whatever I was about to tell her could be fixed. I could picture her, sitting on the sun porch of our house, curled up in her favorite yellow upholstered chair, a cup of French vanilla coffee in her hand. I missed her so bad it hurt.

“What else?” she asked.

I hesitated. My mom and I were close. But I couldn’t tell her about Justin. What would I say? I met a guy at college who doesn’t go to school with me, but he’s a fighter and I met him while he was getting stitched up and then we went swimming in our underwear, but don’t worry he hasn’t kissed me? No way. But I could tell her, at least, about getting kicked out of class.

“I was two minutes late for a class,” I said. “And the professor kicked me out.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. But that sounds like it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Not really.” I kicked at a rock that was sitting on the steps. “It said on the syllabus that he doesn’t let anyone in late. And I didn’t read it.”

“Well, honey, go and talk to him. I’m sure he’s a reasonable person.” I could hear her sipping her coffee and I wished so badly I was home.

I felt my eyes fill with tears. “I miss you, Mom.”

“Oh, I miss you, too, baby,” she said.

“I’m sorry I’m being so down. I actually really like the city, and my classes are really interesting.”

“That’s great. How’s your roommate?”

I told her about Rachel, and about Adam and the story of how he cut his leg, while conveniently leaving out anything that had to do with Justin.

“Mom,” I said, as I saw Rachel coming down the stairs. “The class is over, can I call you back? I’m going to take your advice and go see the professor.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Good luck.”

I slipped my phone back into my purse and walked up the stairs toward Rachel.

“Oh my God, Lindsay,” she said when she saw me. “I’m so sorry that happened to you! I tried to wait for you outside before class, but he came out and ushered me in.”

“That’s okay. I would have felt even worse if I’d gotten you in trouble.”

She held my paper out to me. “He wouldn’t let me hand it in.”

I took it from her. “Yeah, I figured.” I sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to go and try to talk to him. I’ll see you back at the room?”

She squeezed my shoulder. “Good luck.”

I was going to need it.

***

By the time I found Dr. Klaxton’s office, it was almost eleven. And according to my syllabus, he had office hours from eleven to twelve-thirty. (This information was printed right under the part about how he didn’t let anyone into class late. It said, right there,
LATECOMERS WILL NOT BE ALLOWED INTO CLASS
.) When I got to the office, the secretary told me that Dr. Klaxton wasn’t in yet. She was kind of snotty about it, but I decided not to take it personally. Even so, I decided to wait on the bench in the hallway, away from her hawk-like stare.

I didn’t have long to wait. A few seconds later, Dr. Klaxton came walking toward me.

“Dr. Klaxton,” I said, and stood up. I didn’t know if it was the best idea to sort of ambush him out here in the hall, but I was too anxious to wait for him to get into his office. “I’m Lindsay Cramer, I’m the one who – ”

“I know who you are, Ms. Cramer,” he said. He was holding a Styrofoam cup, and he slurped from it noisily. His lips were dark, like he’d been eating too many red jellybeans. “I just saw you less than an hour ago.”

“I wanted to apologize again for showing up to class late. I had a, uh, personal situation come up this morning.”

He didn’t say anything, just took another sip of his coffee. His expression was completely blank, and I couldn’t tell if I was getting through to him.

“Anyway, I wanted you to know that I wrote the paper, the one that you were going to use to choose your research assistants?” I pulled it out and showed it to him. “I know you might not want to accept it, but I worked very hard on it, and I’m proud of the work I did. If you would just give me another chance, I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

He didn’t say anything.

“And I’ll never be late again,” I tried.

His lips pursed together and he twisted them to the side. “Let me guess,” he said.

“Valedictorian? East Podunk, New Jersey?”

“Excuse me?”

He took in a big deep breath, like he couldn’t believe he was spending his time with someone so stupid. “You were valedictorian,” he said, enunciating every syllable.

“Probably from a school in a small town?”

“I don’t under –”

“Then let me explain it to you. You think you deserve special treatment because you’re smart. In high school you were a big fish in a small pond. But everyone here is smart, Ms. Cramer. In fact, many of them are smarter than you. They’ve gone to the best boarding schools in the world. I don’t give them special treatment. And I’m definitely not going to give you special treatment.”

And with that, he turned around and walked into his office, shutting the door behind him.

***