Justine
Class starts in seven minutes, and I’m in the bathroom like I’m some schoolgirl instead of months away from graduating with a law degree. I splash my face with cold water to snap me out of it. Thank God for waterproof eyeliner and mascara.
The door creaks open, and just like freaking high school, the one girl I don’t want to see walks in. Kristy Horner.
“Wow. You’ve looked better.”
“Thanks a lot.” I grab a handful of the paper towel and dab my face dry.
“He’s not worth crying over. Trust me, I know.”
I shoot her a what the hell are you talking about look. “I’m not crying over anyone.”
She leans against the wall and studies me. “Right. And three people haven’t told me they saw you arguing in the parking garage with Ryker this morning. If you want to keep your private life private, I suggest you don’t have a throwdown in public.”
“Thanks for the advice.” I toss the paper towels in the trash and grab my backpack off the counter.
“I’m just telling you this to save you some heartache down the line. Ryker’s mother is old money, and she’s not going to want her son with . . . someone like you. And while Ryker might seem like such a rebellious badass, he’s still living on the gravy train, and he’s not going to risk it by taking you home to Mommy and Daddy.”
I don’t know what possessed me to speak, but the words are out before I can call them back. “He took me home last night for drinks with his dad, so I guess that proves your theory wrong.”
Kristy jerks back like I slapped her. “He took you home. To his parents’ house?”
“Justice Grant’s cognac is pretty dang good. He didn’t even mind that I didn’t have a clue how to drink it properly.”
Kristy’s eyes narrow to slits. “He’s a liar and a user. He’ll throw you away long before we ever make it to graduation. I’d bet my GPA on it.”
What a bitch. I straighten my shoulders and stare her down. “Like he threw you away? Bitter much? I wouldn’t go betting your GPA on something you clearly don’t understand.”
“Get ready to do a lot more crying in the bathroom then. You’re not nearly as special as you think you are.”
I force a smug smile to my lips. “Maybe not, but apparently Ryker thinks I am.”
Her lips flatten into a hard line. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
I leave the bathroom wondering what the hell got into me. Why did I rile up Kristy? She’s just going to spread rumors about everything I just said far and wide across campus.
When I slip into Advocacy, the one class I don’t have with Ryker, students are flipping casebooks open and taking notes on the first PowerPoint slide, even though the lecture hasn’t started. Kristy lowers herself into the seat ahead of me, not bothering to look at me this time. Well, that’s a positive change.
When Professor Alexander takes the lectern and begins the lecture, my fingers don’t move as fast over the keyboard, because I’m stuck on how I’m supposed to respond to Ryker’s question this morning about how I’m paying for law school.
He’s not going to let it go.
And I can’t tell him.
I still have absolutely no idea what to do when class is dismissed and my sketchy notes stare back at me from the screen. The last thing I need to do is start getting distracted. Keep your eye on the prize, Justine.
Maybe I just need more caffeine. I’ve got a half hour between classes, so I head down to the café to get a shot of espresso. Everyone else seems convinced that coffee can solve the world’s problems, so I’m willing to give it a try.
“Hey, hottie! We need to talk.” Merica is coming toward the café, book in hand and a determined look in her eyes.
Oh crap. “Hey, sorry, I just got out of Advocacy. Today was mind-numbingly boring.”
“Try taking Federal Income Tax. Boring doesn’t even begin to cover it. All I know is the IRS is the devil and that whole tax code needs to go in the shredder. Let’s just have one rule instead of a fucking zillion that I have to memorize for the final. Why did I think this was a good idea?”
I could remind Merica that her stepfather insisted she take the class, but it’s not exactly a reminder she’s going to appreciate.
We get into line behind ten other students, and Merica pins me with a direct stare. “So, what’s this I hear about you and Ryker arguing in the parking garage? And you getting a ride with him? Have you seen the package? Can you confirm the rumors?”
I would have thought it was impossible to laugh, but leave it to Merica to have giggles breaking free from my throat. It’s good to know that some things don’t change, including the fact that my best friend is amazing.
“Don’t even start that rumor,” I reply, unwilling to confirm or deny, even though I have the inside information she’s after. Now is not the time or the place. Besides, I’m not thinking about Ryker Grant’s penis ever again. Never. Ever.
Nothing like setting yourself up for failure, I chide myself, knowing that I’m spouting nothing but nonverbal lies.
“Then tell me the truth so I won’t have to use my overly vivid imagination.”
Only six students ahead of us now, and I’m praying the barista picks up his pace, because at least two of them are not even pretending to ignore us. The girl in front of Merica just straight-up turned around.
Merica glares at her. “Do you mind? We’re having a conversation.”
The girl glares back and shoves her earbuds in her ears, and my best friend’s attention is immediately back on me, one eyebrow raised.
“I stayed at his parents’ house last night. It’s a really long story.”
Merica’s eyes bulge wide. “You did what?”
I fill her in on the break-in, but not the dirty details of last night. That’s not something I want to get into in the middle of the student café.
By the time I’m finished, Merica’s mouth is hanging open. “You’re coming over tonight to tell me the rest and we’re drinking box wine.”
“You have no idea how badly I need that. I get off work at seven.”
“I’ll be ready and waiting. Tonight I’m trying that bread maker my mom gave me for my birthday in an attempt to turn me into a domestic goddess. This situation calls for carbs too. You should probably wear yoga pants.”
“I love you, Mer.”
“Love you more, Jus.”
I’m outside the law school and heading for the bus stop to get to work when Ryker’s Camaro slows at the curb.
“Get in.”
My hackles are up as soon as the words are out. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“You don’t have a car. Your shift starts at the library in twenty minutes, and you’re going to be late if you take the bus.”
I stop in midstride. “How do you know that?”
“I called the library and flirted with the girl to give me your schedule.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. Now, get in the car so I can take you to work.”
I make a noise low in my throat that sounds a little too close to a growl. “You’re impossible.” But still, I stalk toward the car and yank open the door I jumped out of so quickly this morning.
“Determined.”
“Maybe you should apply that trait to school.”
“I already am, thanks to you.”
He pulls away from the curb but instead of heading toward the business school, he takes the second exit out of the traffic circle.
“Where the hell are you going? I need to get to work.”
“And I know you’ve got twenty minutes, so I’m going to make use of them.” He turns and flashes me a grin.
This. This right here is why I’ve avoided Ryker for two years. Because when his attention is focused on you, it makes you want to soak it all up. The more time I spend with him, the more I realize that not only am I not immune to it, I’m more susceptible than ever. That’s dangerous.
Ryker turns into the lot outside the performing arts center, shifts the car into neutral, and pulls the emergency brake before turning to face me.
“I miss the taste of your pussy already.”
Oh my God! Did he really say that?
“You can’t say things like that to me.” My words come out higher pitched than I expect.
“Then how are you going to know how fucking bad I want you? I can’t stop thinking about it. I want more.”
And I can’t have more.
“We can’t do this.”
His grin fades. “Fuck if we can’t. We are doing this.”
I have to use the only kind of honesty he’s going to understand and pray that he respects it. “No, because if you’re thinking about my pussy and how much you want my lips wrapped around your cock or burying yourself inside me, you’re not thinking about school. And guess what? I’m not too proud to admit that I can’t concentrate if I’m thinking about it either. This is exactly why I’ve been shutting you down. This year is too important to screw up because you want to scratch an itch.”
“This isn’t an itch, Justine. I’ve been there, done that. This is something completely fucking different.”
Dammit, I want to believe him when he tells me how different this is—and that terrifies me.
“You need to focus on school. I need to focus on school. We’re not doing this.”
“What are you scared of? Tell me the truth. Not some bullshit answer.” His blue eyes drill into mine, demanding an honest response. So I give him one.
“I’m afraid that you’re the ultimate distraction, and I won’t be able to help myself. I’ll just get sucked in deeper and deeper until I forget why I need to keep my priorities straight.”
His stare intensifies, and I wish I could read his mind. It’s like he’s working out a complex analysis in his head.
“Then let’s make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?” Suspicion coats my every word.
“The kind that incentivizes us both.”
I glance at the clock in the dash. “You’ve got five minutes, and I need to get to work.”
“This will only take two, because you’re going to say yes.”
“Cocky bastard,” I murmur under my breath.
He pays no mind to my comment. “If we both get As on the Professional Responsibility midterm, we both a get a reward.”
“What kind of reward?”
“I get your lips wrapped around my cock, and you get all the orgasms you can handle—any way you want them.”
I fight to keep my blush from creeping up my neck. “And how is that going to help?”
“Because we’ll both study our asses off—me, because I want you, and you, because you would anyway . . . and you want my cock, even if you won’t come out and admit it. We’ll keep studying like we have been, and after the midterm, we both reap the rewards.”
“Just study?”
He meets my skeptical stare head-on. “I can’t promise I won’t kiss you again. You can’t expect me to agree not to touch you at all. But we will study. Both of us. You think I’m going to fuck up my grades if you’re the prize? No way in hell.”
“And your other classes?”
“I’ll fucking rock those too. We both will. I’m going to prove that not only are we hot as fuck in the bedroom, we’re going to kick ass in class.”
How can I say no to that? Honestly, he’s almost making this too easy. He gets the best grades of his life and makes his father happy, and I get everything I’m willing to admit that I want and everything I’m not. For the first time in my life, I can have my cake and eat it too. What other answer can I possibly give than yes?
I wait only a few moments before I tell him what he wants to hear. “Okay. You’ve got a deal.”
I hold out my hand and he wraps his fingers around it, but rather than shaking it, he pulls me halfway over the center console before burying his other hand in my hair and lowering his lips to mine.
His tongue steals inside as he takes control. I’m lost in the kiss, forgetting everything, including the time, when he finally pulls back.
“We’re going to make a hell of a team, Justine. Now let’s get you to work.”