Taking Mine (4 page)

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer briefs and a catcall from the back of the room follows a round of whistles. I yelp, covering my eyes. He open-mouth laughs when he sees me peak between my fingers.

“Excuse me!” Professor Whitticker's booming voice reverberates around the entire room. “What do you think you're doing?”

The entire classroom flies into an uproar of laughter.

“Making sure I'm real, sir.” The seriousness of Justin’s answer doesn’t deter Whitticker’s wrath. But it does garner even more laughs, including mine.

“Get your stuff and get out of my classroom. Meet me after class.”

Justin bends over and pulls his jeans back up. He winks, passing my desk and holding his t-shirt and shoes in one hand. “I think we can confirm that you didn’t concoct me after all.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Disappointed?”

“Are you?” he challenges back.

“Now, Mr. Townsend.” Whitticker waits with a hand on his hip.

Justin leisurely strolls down the steps. With the lecture on pause, every student watches him walk out of the door. It's like everyone gets a reality check when the door snaps in place. A loud rush of whispers, accompanied by glances in my direction, immediately follows. My phone buzzes on the edge of my desk, one silent vibration after another. Kaley's name with an increasing number of text messages pop-up on the screen.

Mr. Whitticker calls the class back to order, threatening point deductions, and I quickly turn my phone on silent, shoving it under my notebook. I attempt to gather myself and focus on Whitticker’s squeaking marker again, but nothing can wipe the smile off my face. I bite my lip, seriously trying to rein it in. I keep replaying every detail. The way he pulled his shirt over his head, his muscles stretching when—

A quick ruckus of sound snaps me from daydreaming. People are packing up—class is already over. I palm my cheeks, feeling the heat still radiating from them. The entire class period flew by without me taking one single note.

Kaley skips down the stairs, sliding into the seat next to me. “Oh my God! What was that?”

I shake my head, in my own state of disbelief. “I have no idea.”

My face probably looks as flush as hers does. “Yes, you do. Tell me everything.”

There’s a few people lingering, trying to overhear our conversation. I saddle up my stuff and stand. “Let's get lunch and I'll fill you in.”

KALEY SWIRLS HER TEA AROUND
and sniffs it. Deeming it worthy, she takes a sip. “Do you think he's in a lot of trouble?”

“Probably. Whitticker's one of those teachers that gets off on power trips.”

“True,” she says.

“Excuse me,” a man passing behind Kaley says, forcing her to scoot up.

Kaley smiles up at him. “No problem at all.”

Both of their smiles linger longer than they should.

I give her a disapproving look. “He’s twice our age, Kaley.”

“He’s not that old.”

We look over at him at the same time and he catches us staring. “He has gray hair and crow’s feet.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s just flirting. It’s not like I’m going to fuck him in the bathroom.”

I bite my tongue to keep from responding. I can’t judge. She’s got her vices and I’ve got mine.

I’ve wondered if I got lucky having no dad. Kaley has one, but he might as well be dead considering he’s gone half the time. Her parents travel, I don’t know what for. I’m not sure Kaley even knows why. But it’s a whole new level of loneliness in a mansion with only fish as pets. At the very least, I’ve always known someone loves me—Kip.

“You could be leading him on,” I say.

She shrugs like it's no new news to her.

“Leading who on?” a voice says behind me. I already know it’s him. If I couldn’t tell by his voice, Kaley's reaction would have given it away.

I carefully cool my features.

Justin pulls a chair up beside us and straddles it, folding his arms along the back.

Kaley jumps on the opportunity for a distraction and shifts the attention to him. “How much trouble are you in?”

“Withdrawal from the class,” he says. “Not too bad.”

“He flunked you?” I ask, astounding. “How is that not bad?”

“He could have had me expelled.”

The waitress comes by again, refilling my coffee and taking Justin’s order.

“What are you majoring in?” I ask, blowing into my cup, attempting to cool the scalding hot liquid.

After a moment of not receiving an answer, I look up to find Justin staring at my mouth. I don't catch on until I open it to take a sip and his eyes follow the movement. Pausing mid sip, I wait for his attention to shift back into focus. I can see him pull himself together, like gaining traction after slipping.

Kaley hides a smirk behind her cup.

“Um, English. And you?”

“Undecided.”

Kaley taps out a response on her phone before shoving it into her purse. Justin and I watch her stand with her tea. “I've got to meet a friend about some Biology notes.”

I start to stand with her. “Okay, let me get the check—”

“Stay,” she says. “I'm probably going to be a while. I'll call you before we go out tonight.”

She doesn't wait for a reply and saunters to the door, waving at the gray-haired man along the way.

“She's...” Justin trails off.

“She doesn't take Biology.”

He looks at me questioningly.

“She's not meeting someone about Biology notes. Nor were we planning on going out tonight.”

It dawns on him. “Oh,” he draws out. “She's dropping hints.”

“More like atomic bombs and trying to disguise them as balloons.”

The waitress comes by again, handing Justin his coffee, her top few shirt buttons undone.

Classy.

Justin waits for her to leave before picking up the conversation again. It's the first time I can take a leisurely drink of my coffee without feeling like he's watching my every move.

“Are you two close?” he asks, rolling his cup between his hands.

I shrug. “Depends on how you look at it. Closest thing either one of us has to a best friend.”

He bends to take a cautious sip, and now it's my turn to be mesmerized by his mouth. My eyes trail the stubble along his face, down to his neck as he swallows. I have a quick image of running my lips over his Adam’s apple.

I like to torture myself, apparently.

“So, where do you go when you go out?”

I smile. “Oh, I'm not going out.”

“No?” he asks. “Why not?”

“I don't drink, I don't dance, and I have no interest in being hit on by guys who wear polos and drink cheap beer. It leaves a lot to the imagination.”

He tilts his head to the side. It adds just the right amount of boyish charm to be cute. “What if I fight the guys off for you? I'll be your designated bodyguard for the night.”

“You forgot about the drinking and dancing.”

“I'll buy you endless non-alcoholic beverages, and dancing is optional—fun, but not mandatory.”

“Look,” I say, trying to let him down nicely. “You make a compelling argument, but I really can't. I need to get a jump-start on my schoolwork. No room for dilly-dallying this year.”

“Dilly-dallying,” he repeats.

I nod.

“Okay,” he says, resigned. “Education is first priority.”

I snort. “Says the guy who got kicked out of a class on the second day of the semester.”

His smile grows. “But it was worth it.”

“You have a thing for public nudity?”

“It looked like
you
did.”

He's flirting with me.
Holy shit.
I'm not a blusher. In fact, I can’t recall a single time I’ve been uncomfortable enough, but he oddly makes me self-conscious.

“I'm sorry,” he says. “I didn't mean to embarrass you.”

“You’re worried about embarrassing me now.” I laugh. “How about when you were stripping in class?”

He shakes his head, smiling at the table and then back at me. “I wasn’t trying to draw the attention to you. I was trying to draw it away. You were worried about Professor Whitticker. I figured I’d eclipse your minor wrongdoing with a much bigger one. A much, much bigger one. He probably doesn’t even remember you.”

When he puts it that way… “Then I guess I should be thanking you.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles. He looks older. Not as drastic as Kaley's infatuation a few tables down, but like maybe he’s seen some shit in his time that most haven’t. The kind of look that accompanies soldiers coming home from war.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-four,” he answers, caught off guard by my question. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” For some reason, I don't want our conversation to end, and it's a tad unsettling.

“Tell you what,” I say, standing.

He leans back, looking up at me. “What?”

“Blackjack's. Tonight.”

“The shady bar on the west bank that biker gangs frequent?”

“They don't frequent,” I say. “Just every now and then.”

He drinks the rest of his coffee, setting the empty cup down with new determination. “Blackjack's it is. I'll make sure I'm packing.”

“Don't be so dramatic. You'll live.” I keep a straight face as I add, “Maybe.”

He breathes out a laugh. “Looking forward to it.”

WHEN I GET HOME,
I find Kaley occupying my bed, wearing nothing but her bra and underwear, lying belly down and flipping through a car magazine from my nightstand.

“It should be a testament to our friendship that I don’t find this weirder than I do.”

She jumps at the sound of my voice. “Don’t do that to me,” she breathes out, letting her body relax.

“You’re the one half naked in my bed; technically, you shouldn’t be doing this to me.”

“I thought you were Kip again.”

“Another testament,” I lilt, plopping down next to her. Kip’s seen Kaley naked more than anyone else in his life. Most likely, anyway.

“So, how’d it go?”

“We’re going out tonight,” I say.

“Shut up,” she says, sitting up.

“To Blackjacks’s.”

Her excitement dissipates. “You are the lamest college student I know.”

“Do you want to go or not?”

She kicks off the bed. “I’m going. This is the first time I’ve seen you take a liking to anyone since high school. I’m absolutely going.”

“It’s not like that. We’re just hanging out, one time, as friends. Nothing more. Don’t make this something it isn’t.”

“I’m not.” Her smile tells me otherwise. “I’m making it what it is. The boy basically made a public declaration that he’s into you. There’s no way he wants to be just friends. Not unless it’s the benefits kind.”

“Kaley.” I say her name in warning.

She gives me a devilish smile, backing toward my closet. “We’re going to go out tonight and you’re going to let Justin buy you a drink and give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Kaley,” I repeat in the same tone.

“Here,” she says, throwing me the sequined dress she bought me last Christmas.

“Nope,” I say, tossing it back.

We do this a few more times before she gives in. “You’re so stubborn.”

“I’m consistent.”

“You’re going to dress like a hobo, aren’t you?”

“You’re going to dress like a whore, aren’t you?”

I duck just as my car magazine flies past my head. “I’m approachable,” she says.

“I don’t want to be approachable.”

“Couldn’t tell,” she deadpans.