Easy (11 page)

I forgot all about laughing.

***

My lips were sensitive and tingly. Touching
them brought rushes of gooey memories—his hands, and what they’d done in
concert with his mouth—the crazy-making kisses, and the few words he’d spoken.
You’re
so beautiful
.

I wanted to see
the sketches, so he showed them to me. They were good. Amazingly good. I told
him so and earned his barely-there smile.

“What will you do
with them?” I asked, more than a little belatedly.

“Redo them in
charcoal, probably.”

I waited for more.
“And then?”

He shrugged into
his hoodie and stared down at me. “Tack them to my bedroom wall?”

My lips parted,
but I had no idea what to say.
Bedroom wall?

His eyes returned
to the pad, turned to the second drawing. “Who wouldn’t want to wake up to
this?”

That statement had
a ninety-nine percent chance of meaning what it seemed to suggest, but I wasn’t
sure enough to reply in kind, so I said nothing. He closed the sketchpad and
laid it on the bookcase near the door. Taking my chin in his hand, he rubbed
his thumb across my lower lip, gently.

“Ah, crap.” He
pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers. “I forgot what my hands look
like after drawing.” He looked at my shirt. “You may have little gray marks…
everywhere.”

Assuming I now had
a gray lip and possibly faint streaks of gray across my abdomen and the upper
curves of my breasts, I couldn’t think what to say beyond, “Oh.”

He balled his
hands into fists, set one under my chin to raise it again and used the other to
tug me closer. “Don’t worry, no fingers.” Dragging my body against his, he
kissed me, his back against the door to my room. In this position, there was no
hiding what his body wanted from me. I pressed against him and he groaned into
my mouth and wrenched his mouth from mine, breathing raggedly. “I have to go
now, or I’m not going.”

This was the
moment for me to say
Stay
, but I couldn’t. Kennedy flashed through my
mind, saying something oh-so-similar not that long ago. Even more insane was
the thought of Landon, and a possible email waiting for me. Neither of those
things should matter. Not in this moment.

Lucas straightened
and cleared his throat. Kissing my forehead and the tip of my nose, he opened
the door. “Later,” he said, and was gone.

I gripped the doorframe
and watched him walk away, pulling the beanie over his tousled hair. Every girl
he passed glanced up. Some turned and watched until he reached the stairwell
door, before whipping their heads around to see where he’d come from. I
retreated into my room and left them to their speculation.

The interrupting
email wasn’t from Landon, it was from Mom—and contained my parents’ itinerary
for their ski trip to Colorado. A ski trip that I’d not been invited to join. A
ski trip scheduled for the only mid-semester weekend I’d planned to spend at
home—a holiday weekend, no less.

Still, I had a
difficult time stirring up any real anger when I opened her email, for two
reasons. One, I was oddly disappointed that it wasn’t Landon’s name in my
inbox, and two, I was so high from being thoroughly kissed by Lucas that I
didn’t care about a holiday eleven days in the future, or how I’d be spending
it.

***

By Sunday evening, I was eating
spoonfuls of peanut butter for dinner, watching
He’s Just Not That Into You
,
and telling myself I was clearly no exception to
anyone’s
rule. Landon
still hadn’t emailed, and I hadn’t heard from Lucas, either.

Erin was due back
any moment, and I was eager for her boisterous, colorful presence in our room.
Too much quiet left me depressed and consuming condiments for meals.

My inbox dinged
and I debated whether or not to pause the movie to check it. I wasn’t in the
mood for another of my mother’s efforts to shed her remorse about deserting me
on a major holiday. So far, she’d tried logic (“It was your year to go to
Kennedy’s.”), emotional blackmail (“Your father and I haven’t had a trip alone
in twenty years.”), and one grudging invitation to join them (“I suppose we
could get you a ticket. But you’d have to sleep on the sofa or a cot, because
the rooms are undoubtedly booked.”). I ignored the first two and said
No,
thanks
to the third.

What next—an
attempt to buy me off? A proposed shopping trip wouldn’t be out of the
question—she’d used that before. Last week, I’d bookmarked a pair of boots
online that my private lesson pay and my allowance wouldn’t quite cover. I
paused the movie and clicked my inbox.

Jackpot. But not Mom. Landon.

Jacqueline,

I’m glad you felt confident about the quiz. Whenever you get a draft of your paper
together, I’d be happy to look it over before you turn it in. I’ve attached the
worksheet for tomorrow’s session, which I just finished making. If you have any
questions, let me know.

LM

I reread the
email, pouting. There was nothing remotely flirtatious in it. It could have
come from a professor. He didn’t account for why it had taken him all weekend
to answer me, when he usually answered within a couple of hours, if not sooner.
He didn’t tease me about anything, or ask any non-econ related question. I felt
as though I’d imagined every shred of familiarity we’d developed over the past
couple of weeks.

Landon,

Thank you. I’ll send the draft by Saturday morning. I hope you had an enjoyable weekend.

JW

Jacqueline,

Getting it to me by Saturday is fine. I’ll try to get it back to you quickly so you can
get it in to Dr. H before the break. My weekend was good. Especially Friday.
How was yours?

LM

Landon,

Good. A bit lonely (my roommate was out of town all weekend, and she just got home
and is bursting to tell me all about it), but productive. Thanks again for all
your help.

JW

Chapter 9

Once again, Lucas was approached by
a girl at the end of class. What the hell? Did every girl in our class feel a
need to converse with him? But then a guy walked up next to her, his arm
wrapping around her shoulder. Alarmed, I realized what my visceral reaction
implied: jealousy. Over a guy I barely knew, with whom I’d exchanged more
saliva than sentences.

As I passed the
last aisle, Lucas gave me a tight smile with a slight lift of his chin and
shifted his attention back to the couple in front of him. Conflicted, I was
equal parts relieved and disappointed.

I asked Erin’s advice over lunch.

“He’s holding his
cards damned close.” Sipping her typical Jamba Juice lunch, she mulled over
possible causes for his reserve. “It’s almost like… he’s resisting being
attracted to you. Don’t get me wrong, lots of guys get standoffish—but usually
not until they’ve closed the deal.” She gave me a close look. “Are you
sure
nothing more happened Friday night?”

I heaved a sigh
and clunked my forehead with the heel of my hand. “Oh
yeah
, I totally
forgot that part where we had wild sex all night Friday.”

She rolled her eyes, and then her brows rose. “Hey. What if he has a girlfriend?”

I frowned. I hadn’t considered that. “I guess that’s possible.”

My mind went to
one thing I couldn’t say: What if what happened the night we met made me appear
as pathetic and foolish as I felt, and he couldn’t get past it? Those
terrifying minutes haunted me still, and running into Buck a few days ago only
amplified the threat. It wouldn’t be the last time I’d see him. He was in the
same frat as Kennedy. He was friends with Chaz and Erin, and my entire former
circle of friends. He was almost unavoidable.

“A girlfriend would definitely put a kink in our plans,” Erin mused.

Out of the blue, I
wondered if Landon Maxfield had a girlfriend. He hadn’t mentioned one, but why
would he? There was no reason for him to insert
Hey, btw, I have a
girlfriend
into one of our email exchanges. I could find some way to ask.
He seemed so candid that I was sure he’d answer.

“J?” Erin’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“Huh? Sorry.”

She arched a brow,
slurping up the last of her smoothie. “What are you thinking about? I know that
calculating look, and as your official wing-woman, I need in on whatever you’re
plotting.”

I picked at the
sandwich in my hand, pulling the tomatoes out and stacking them in the corner
of my tray. I couldn’t tell her about Buck. But I could confess my building
interest in Landon. “You know my economics tutor?”

She nodded,
confused, and suddenly, forming an online-only attraction while attending a
university where there were thousands of single guys seemed like the most ridiculous
thing ever in the history of ridiculous things.

“Well, sometimes it seems like we’re flirting. And once, he said Kennedy was a moron.”

She arched one brow. “He knows Kennedy?”

“No—I mean he
said, ‘Your ex is a moron.’ I don’t think he actually knows
him
. It was
more of a… complimentary statement, to me.” I took a bite of my
turkey-bacon-guacamole sandwich.

“Hmm.” Erin leaned
both elbows onto the table between us. “Well, it’s a given that he can’t be as
hot as Lucas. But he’s a tutor, so he must be smart—God knows
that’s
right up your alley. Is he cute at all?”

“Er,” I said, still chewing.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh my God. You’ve never
met
him, have you?”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “Not exactly.”

“
Not exactly
?”

“Okay, not at all.
I have no idea what he looks like, all right? But he’s intelligent and funny.
And he’s been really nice, and helped me so much—I’m almost caught up in class,
except for that project—”

“Jacqueline, you
can’t fall for a guy without ever seeing him! What if his looks are a
deal-breaker? He could look like—” she scanned the food court and zeroed in on
a creepy-looking guy in a ratty t-shirt and sweats loping past our table “—
that
guy.”

I crossed my arms,
offended on Landon’s behalf. “
That
guy looks like a social outcast. Landon
is too smart to look like that.”

She covered her
eyes and shook her head. “Okay. We’ll make
Landon
Plan B.” She eyed me,
wearing her conspiracy-theory expression—eyes narrowed, lips puckered. “What do
you really know about this Landon guy?”

I laughed. “A lot
more than I know about that Lucas guy.”

“Except what he
looks and tastes like.” She waggled her brows.

“Ugh! Erin. You have a one-track mind.”

She smiled deviously. “I prefer to think of it as target-driven.”

We skipped the
Starbucks—part of Erin’s plan, though she lamented the sacrifices she was
making on my behalf as we choked down cups of cafeteria coffee. Leaving me with
strict instructions not to text or email either of them, she gave me one swift
hug before being swallowed by a group of her sorority sisters—all of whom acted
as though we were distant acquaintances at best—as they set up an afternoon
bake sale.

A month ago, I’d
been sanctioned as Kennedy’s GDI girlfriend; now I was only poor Erin’s
non-Greek roommate.

***

Laundry rooms were located on each
floor of the dorm, but since everyone on my floor decided to run loads at the
same time, the washers were all full. Heaving the overflowing mesh bag into the
stairwell, I hopped it down the concrete steps one at a time, hoping the
residents a floor down were less moved to cleanliness, at least tonight.

Ten minutes later,
I headed back upstairs with my empty bag. Stopping just inside the stairwell
when my phone buzzed, I answered a message from Maggie reminding me to email a
link she needed for a Spanish assignment we were doing together. Itching to
text Lucas or email Landon, I shoved my phone down into my front pocket. I’d
promised Erin I’d do neither. She knew how boys’ minds worked, while my years
with Kennedy left me woefully unprepared for these sorts of complex maneuvers.
Frankly, the rules for hooking up didn’t seem that much less tricky to me than
the rules for finding a committed relationship, but what did I know.

The door beneath
me opened and shut as I rounded the corner, and ascending footsteps sounded
behind me. There were hundreds of residents in my building, and though we all
used the elevator or the main stairs for coming and going from the building, most
of us employed the persistently dank stairwell when moving between floors. The creeped-out,
claustrophobic sensation was something I felt every time, and I forced myself
not to sprint for the door at the top.

I jerked to a
stop, realizing that I was moving forward, but my laundry bag wasn’t. Assuming
it was hooked on the handrail, I turned to liberate it and was almost eye to
eye with Buck. The end of the bag was caught in his fist.

I gasped and my
heart stopped, as though the moment was suspended in slow-motion, and then it
began pounding like heavy machinery in my chest. He stepped up to the stair
just beneath me—and sneered down at me. “Hey Jackie.” Bile rose in my throat at
the sound of his voice, and I swallowed. “Or no. I guess it’s Jacqueline now,
right? Isn’t that what you said? A rose by any other name would smell as
sweet…” When he leaned closer, I tried to back up the stairs and tripped,
sprawling. I used the opportunity to scramble backwards and up toward the door,
but he reached down and pulled me up easily, both hands gripping my shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,”
I choked.

He smiled as
though he was hypnotizing small, trapped prey. Toying with me. “C’mon,
Jacqueline
,
don’t be like that. You’ve always been real nice to me. I just want you to be a
little bit nicer, that’s all.”