Justine
When I slide into my seat for Advocacy on Tuesday morning, Kristy Horner turns around in her chair and pins me with an accusing glare. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not going to work.”
I pull my laptop out of my backpack and fire it up. If I wait for Kristy to spout her snarky comments first, the slow machine won’t be ready to take notes until five minutes after the lecture starts. I wait until I have my casebook out before I finally reply.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ryker. I heard you two were together last night at Unwired.”
You’d think we’re in high school with how fast word travels these days. And since when does Kristy Horner have friends who study at Unwired? Her posse is solidly Starbucks half-caf, venti whatever-whatever.
I hate that I feel like I have to justify myself to her at all, but this nonsense needs to be nipped in the bud right now.
“We were studying. End of story. No big deal.”
Kristy isn’t a dumb girl, so there’s no blonde stereotype here. She wouldn’t have made it this far if she was. Her gaze is shrewd when she studies me like I’m a science experiment.
“You don’t like him. Everyone knows that. So why, after two years, would you all of a sudden start studying together?”
“Maybe you should ask Ryker.”
“Do you really think I couldn’t get him back anytime I wanted?” Her tone carries the flavor of a threat.
“Maybe for a night. Seems like that’s all he ever wanted you for anyway.”
Her eyes narrow and her mouth pinches into a flat line when I shoot the words back at her. Direct hit.
I flip open my casebook to the spot I have marked with a Post-it, and I’m saved from continuing the conversation when Professor Alexander begins his PowerPoint presentation at the lectern.
Kristy turns around, but she’s not going to let this go. It might just be a feeling, but it’s a strong one.
It doesn’t help things at all that Ryker is waiting for me after class and Kristy is ten feet away when he asks, “Are we studying tonight or tomorrow?”
Kristy’s blond hair performs this shampoo-commercial-worthy swing when she pivots around at the sound of Ryker’s voice.
His blue eyes are on me, not missing the constant darting away of mine, and he follows my gaze and looks back with confusion. “What’s wrong?”
Not wanting to have this conversation where she can hear us, I do something that later registers as idiotic—I grab Ryker’s hand and drag him away. Kristy isn’t the only person watching us now.
The first door I come to is the Law Review office. It’s open, but the back interior office door is closed. That means the editor-in-chief is probably in there, but with the noise-cancelling headphones she takes everywhere, she won’t hear us.
Ryker laughs as I shut the door behind us. “What the hell, Justine?”
“One of Kristy Horner’s friends saw us together last night.”
“And that means you need to drag me off to a deserted room to whisper about it? I’m not protesting, don’t get me wrong, but you better be careful or people are going to start to think you actually like me.” His lips curl up in a smirk and he takes two steps toward me, crowding me into the corner.
My breathing hitches as he comes closer, but I force myself to focus on what I was going to say, not how amazing he smells.
“Someone saw us last night.”
He presses a hand against the wall above my shoulder, and only a few inches remain between us.
“So what? Are you ashamed to be seen with me or something?”
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that. Didn’t you and Kristy . . . I mean . . . don’t you have a thing?”
“A thing?”
“You know . . . casual hookup? Do you really want to piss her off so you can’t go back there? You realize she hates me, right?”
Ryker drops his hand from the wall, steps back, and crosses his arms over his chest. All humor fades from his expression, and his eyes are hard on mine when he finally replies.
“You’re telling me you don’t want her to know we study together so I can preserve some easy fuck? Really? Wow, Justine, good looking out for me, but I can take care of my own shit. Thanks for the concern, but it’s not necessary.” He drops his gaze to the floor before looking back up at me. “How the hell can you be this blind? Why would I be worried about Kristy when I’m trying so fucking hard to get you?”
This time it’s me who stiffens. “We’re studying. That’s it.”
He uncrosses his arms and leans in again before skimming a thumb along my cheekbone. My skin lights up at his touch. “If you think that’s all this is, you’re oblivious.”
I need to put space between us. Not let him kiss me again. But the memory of both times his lips have been on mine are burned into my brain, and my body won’t move.
Instead, I repeat the only words I can seem to conjure. “We’re just studying.”
Ryker drops his hand as his jaw turns to granite. His tone is just as hard. “Tonight. Same place. Same time. I’ll see you there.”
I shake my head. “I have to work until eight.”
“Tomorrow.” His blue eyes blaze. “You’re not getting out of this. We have a deal.”
“I’m not trying to get out of anything.” My words come out flustered. “I just . . . have to work. I can do seven tomorrow.”
“Good. I’ll be there.”
“To study,” I remind him.
He steps back, his smirk firmly back in place, and I think he’s going to touch my face again but he looks down at his watch.
Something that feels a lot like disappointment twists through me. Really, Justine? Calm down.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Justine.”