Bad Judgment (21 page)

Justine

“The car will be here in three minutes!” Merica calls as I stand in front of the mirror in her bathroom.

“I’ll be out in a second,” I yell through the door.

“You look hot, so don’t change anything.”

If I were the kind of girl to take mirror selfies and post them on some social-media platform, now would be the perfect time. Like Merica said, I make a pretty hot Wonder Woman, even from an objective standpoint.

I wonder what Ryker will think. Scratch that, I already know what he’s going to think. My boobs look amazing, and the tights and bodysuit hug my every curve. I rarely feel overcome with confidence, but a combination of Merica’s skills and the earlier call from Ryker have me walking out of the bathroom feeling like I can conquer the world.

Green’s Square, the token Irish pub in our college town, is decked out for Halloween and packed with girls dressed in the sexy version of every traditional costume imaginable. Luckily, it seems that Merica and I are the only Tinkerbell and Wonder Woman duo, at least so far.

I spy Kristy Horner in the crowd, dressed as a slutty angel with the coolest wings I’ve ever seen, and she gives me a once-over before looking away.

Think whatever you want, Kristy. We look good
.

My eyes scan the room for Ryker, but I don’t see his tall frame. Merica drags me toward the bar, inserting herself between two guys who step aside as soon as they get a look at her as naughty Tinkerbell. I squeeze in next to her, ready to have a distraction in the form of a drink in my hand. Luckily, Merica’s not afraid to flash a little cleavage to get a bartender’s attention, and we’re served in no time.

We scoop up our Halloween drink specials before scanning the surroundings to snag an empty table.

Where is Ryker? Shouldn’t he be here by now?

I’m not sure what I’m more afraid of—that I’ll lose my nerve, or that I’m going to drag him out of here as soon as he walks in.

Three glasses of Halloween concoction later and there’s still no sign of him. Where the hell is Ryker? Did
he
change his mind?

Merica stands. “I’m going out for a smoke, but you’re going to swear on your life that you won’t tell Jimmy.”

“Do you even have a smoke?” I ask.

“I’ll bum one. There are plenty of people here.” She slips out of the booth, leaving me with the glass in front of me and a growing sense of unease.

Did he change his mind?

No. That’s ridiculous. He wouldn’t.

A shadow falls over the table moments after Merica is out of sight, and I look up, expecting to see a familiar face. And I do, but it’s not the familiar face I wanted to see. It’s the med student I talked to at Unwired who bartends at Ziggy’s.

“Hey, you. Good to see you tore yourself away from the books for a night.” His entire face lights up with a smile, and he slides in across the booth from me.

“Indiana Jones?” I ask, taking in the hat, white linen shirt unbuttoned at the throat, brown pants, and bullwhip curled at his side.

“Dr. Jones to you.”

His quick response steals a laugh from me.

“What’s your real first name? I know your last name is Caruthers.”

“Jonah.” He reaches his hand across the table to shake mine. “It’s nice to finally be officially introduced . . .”

“Justine Porter.” I slip my hand into his and shake. I try to pull back, but he doesn’t release his grip.

“I kept hoping I’d see you again at Ziggy’s.”

“Bars aren’t really my thing.”

“So you just come out for special occasions?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’ve got to say you make a pretty fabulous Wonder Woman. Makes me wish I’d dressed up as a superhero so we could fight evil together.”

“Sorry, man. I’ve already got that covered.” Ryker sits down in the booth beside me and throws his arm around my shoulders.

My gaze jerks to him, and sure enough, he’s got on a pair of jeans and a Captain America T-shirt that stretches impressively over his chest. It might not be a full-blown costume like my Wonder Woman get-up, but damn . . . he gives Chris Evans a run for his money.

“Figured as much, but you can’t blame me for trying,” Jonah says, pushing up from the bench seat.

“I was running late. Sorry, babe.” Ryker presses a kiss to my temple. He looks at the man exiting the booth. “Thanks for stopping to say hey, Caruthers.”

“Yeah. Anytime. Have a good night.”

Jonah melts into the crowd and Ryker turns to face me, brilliant smile in place. “I really can’t blame the guy for trying every time he sees you. You look fucking incredible tonight. And all mine.”

His words and the fire burning in his eyes send bolts of heat through me, settling between my legs.

I want him
.

Pulling myself together, I form a response. “Thank you. You look pretty damn good yourself. Captain America? How’d you pick that one?”

“It’s one of your favorite Pez dispensers. I figured if you were going the Wonder Woman route, I had to pull out the superhero card.”

The fact that he noticed something like that surprises me, but should it? Very few details seem to get by him. Ryker isn’t the guy I initially thought he was. He’s so much more.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and slides it in front of me. I look down at the screen, and blink. He’s logged into the student portal where our grades were posted.

Professional Responsibility – Midterm – A – 4.0

I look up to meet the intense blue gaze. “I believed you when you texted me. I didn’t need proof.”

“I wanted you to see it anyway. Because you know what? I’m fucking proud. We’re a kick-ass team, Justine, and I’m not just saying that because I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

The heat he unleashed grows exponentially.
I’m in deep trouble.

“We do make a pretty good team.” I attempt to keep my words nonchalant, and marginally succeed.

“I thought you said you were having second thoughts?” He scans every inch of my face, and I know this answer matters to him.

“I said I’ve been having a lot of thoughts. This is new for me, okay? When we made this deal, it was far off in the future. Something to worry about later. Now it’s later, and I can’t stop wondering—can we really balance it all? Studying and school and . . . whatever this is?”

Ryker’s expression sobers. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have in the middle of a bar.”

He’s right, but the unsettled feeling inside me won’t subside until we have this conversation.

Ryker stands. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You just got here.” I blink up at him, surprised that he already wants to leave.

He laces his fingers with mine and pulls me out of the booth and up against him.

“And I got what I came for—you.”

His single-minded focus on me turns the heat to liquid fire. When was the last time anyone ever made me feel this way? Never.

“Okay.”

I let him lead me out of the bar and we pass Merica, who now has Jimmy in tow, as we reach the front door.

“Hey, hottie.” She studies us both, her gaze locking on our clasped hands before jumping to my face. “You heading out?”

“Yeah.”

“Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Merica leans in and squeezes me in a hug before whispering in my ear. “You deserve this. No regrets.”

I hug her back and she curls into Jimmy’s side. “We’ll have to do a double date another time.”

The men nod at each other, and Ryker and I head outside.

Clouds of smoke from the laughing students gathered outside billow on the night air as we take the sidewalk around the bar. I spy his Camaro parked behind the bar in a handicapped spot.

“Feeling brave tonight?” I ask, looking from him to the car.

“I wasn’t about to waste any more time looking for a place to park.”

“What held you up?”

“Just some family stuff.” He walks me around to the passenger side and opens the door.

I pause before lowering myself inside. “Everything okay?”

Ryker’s nod is short. “Nothing to worry about.” He closes the door as soon as I’m settled and rounds the hood before hopping in. But he doesn’t start the car like I expect him to.

Instead, he turns to me. “Tell me right now if you’re changing your mind. I have to know.”

I shake my head. “I’m not changing my mind. We made a deal.”

His expression sobers. “And we both know this isn’t about making a deal anymore. This is me wanting you. All of you. Wanting to know how you feel under me. Wanting to know how hard you’re going to come when I’m buried inside you. I want it all, Justine. Including the chance to show you how fucking amazing life can be when you let a few distractions in.”

He’s absolutely right. This has become so much more than just a deal. He’s talking about a future. A future that’s becoming a seductive temptation for me.

You can have it all
.

But can I?

Justice Grant paid the first two months of my tuition, and the third payment is due next week. What would he say if he knew that I was planning on sleeping with his son and continuing to take the money?

What does that make me?

“What do you say? Can you take a chance on me? On us?”

Ryker’s questions are sincere, and there’s only one answer I can give, even with the feelings of guilt snowballing in my brain.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Triumph brands his features. “Good. I’m taking you home.”

With every mile that passes as we drive toward his place, my mind races to find a solution to my growing moral dilemma. I can’t accept the tuition money and have Ryker too—at least, not without paying it back.

I didn’t want to have debt when I got out of school, but if that had been my only option, and I’d been able to get a loan without crippling interest rates, I would have taken it.

All I have to do is make a new deal with Justice Grant—everything has to be a loan. He’s getting what he wants—Ryker’s grades are staying up—so how could he say no to the proposition? I don’t think he’ll hold this against me. He’s not that kind of guy, and he all but told me that he had no problem with the idea of Ryker and me being more than study buddies. At that time, though, I didn’t expect for this to happen.

So can I really have it all?

Yes,
I decide.
I can.

It just has to be a loan. That’s something I can live with.

While Ryker guides the car downtown, I pull out my phone and my fingers fly, composing an e-mail to Justice Grant.

I keep it short and vague.

Justice Grant,

I’ve reconsidered our agreement and I’d like to discuss changing the terms. I think you’ll find them acceptable all the same.

Sincerely,

Justine Porter

I send the e-mail and shove my phone back in my purse, relieved when the niggling feelings of guilt evaporate. Everything is going to be okay.

Ryker waves a keycard at the gate that blocks the entrance to the parking garage of a fancy condo complex, and it opens. Pulling inside, he slides into a spot and shifts the Camaro into park.

Turning to me, his blue gaze pins me to my seat. “No regrets. That’s the one promise I want from you. No regrets, no matter what happens.”