Loud: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Male Romance) (10 page)

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

Brooke

I walked out of the lab wondering what had just
happened. Had I just bonded with Emerson? He caught me off guard when he threw
that
Game of Thrones
line at me. He did
not
seem like the type
who would be into my favorite show. Initially, I thought he may have started
the conversation as a way to get to me, that maybe he'd heard the show playing
from my apartment as he walked past and did a bit of Googling to learn about
the show.

But he knew a little too much about the characters and
it didn't seem like the kind of thing Emerson would do. He may have come across
as a lot of things, but he never came across as having a creepy stalker vibe. If
I told Leslie about it, she’d insist it was yet another act of fate pushing us
together.

I'd never believed too much in the concept of fate or
destiny, but things were getting more than a little uncanny here. I wondered
what I'd find out next about him — that he, too, had a little obsession with
balcony gardening or only drank milk if it had ice in it?

I tried to force the thoughts out of my mind; this was
exactly what I
didn't
need. This semester was all about focus — total
concentration. I was going to nail it, get straight As, be top of the class. Throwing
some fleeting attraction to a guy into the equation could wreck everything.
Last time I fell hard for a guy, things came apart rather quickly and in an incredibly
spectacular manner. There was no way I could open myself up again, not after having
my heart ripped into a million shreds by Andrew. I'd been sewing those shreds back
together with painstaking care for a long time, and I didn't want all that hard
work to come unraveled.

So many thoughts swirled around my head as I walked
home. I was fried, in part because of the incident at the lab that had ended my
hectic day, so it was only by the time that I reached my apartment building
that it suddenly hit me —
I had left
my phone in the lab
.

“Shit!” I swore. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! Ughhhh.
How could I be so stupid!?”

Panic hit with alternating flashes of clarity. I
needed my phone, but would it even still be there? The lab wasn't locked until
six o'clock in the evening and, as far as I had seen, there weren't any
security cameras, which meant anyone could just walk in, pick up my new iPhone
and pocket it without there being any evidence of their crime. Of course, what
had me so upset wasn't that the phone itself would be stolen. It was expensive,
yes, but it was an item that could be replaced. What had me upset was the idea
of what was on it that was irreplaceable — especially, photos and videos of my
grandfather who had passed away only a year before.

I sat down on the steps of my apartment building and
put my head in my hands. It was one of those moments you can’t explain when it
feels like everything that’s gone wrong in your life floods back in at once and
you just want to break down. I felt defeated. It took all I had to keep myself
from bursting into tears right there. Of course, I could turn around and run
back to campus to see if the phone was still there or check to see if some good
Samaritan had picked it up and turned it in to campus security. But in that
moment, there was no way I could handle a jog back to campus.

I was moments away from a breakdown when a familiar sound
stopped me — a motorcycle roaring down the street.

Emerson.

He pulled in to his usual parking spot and dismounted,
running a hand through his hair after he removed his helmet. To make matters
worse, he saw me and made a beeline straight for me.

Great
.

He was the last person I wanted to see, but I was
going to have to deal with him because I didn't have the energy to get up and
make an excuse to leave.

My heart started beating faster, way faster, when I
saw that he was pulling something from his pocket as he approached.
My phone!

“Hey, Brooke, you left this in the lab! I saw it lying
on the floor near the stool you'd been sitting on as I was leaving. Must've
fallen out of your bag or something.”

Relief hit me with tsunami force. Before I could stop
myself, I sprang to my feet, ran up to Emerson, and threw my arms around him. I
probably held on a couple of moments longer than I should have. The warmth of his
arms tightening around me, after a moment of shock on his part, made me realize
what I’d done. I quickly disengaged. His gaze locked on me as I slid my arms
back to my sides. There was a look of total surprise on his face. He hadn't
expected that any more than I had.

We stood with gazes locked for a few tense moments. I
broke the trance by reaching for my phone, but that only intensified the
awkwardness when our hands touched. I swallowed hard to compose myself.

“I, umm, thank you
so
much, Emerson,” I finally
said, calming myself. “I was
so
worried. I thought it was gone for sure.”

He lightened up, becoming his usual chipper self after
our moment of whatever it was.

“No worries. Just looking out for a friend. Just be a
bit more careful next time, huh?”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“And maybe don't rush to get out of the lab? Look, I
know you're busy and focused and everything, but you need to breathe a little,”
he offered with a sympathetic smile.

“I know, I know. Sometimes I feel like I'm way too
stressed about school and so focused on classes and studying that I forget
about everything else. And then I do stupid things…like leaving my phone in a
lab.”

His laugh was warm and endearing. “Don't worry about
that,” he said with a wink. “You've got me there to cover you!”

I couldn't hold back the smile that took over my
cheeks. “Thanks again, Emerson.”

“Not a problem. Hey, um, I was wondering…there are a
few things I'm really not too clear about in some of the reading for chemistry
class tomorrow. It always helps me to talk about it with someone, kind of hash
it out. Gets the neurons firing. Would you, um, would you be able to help me
with some of it later?”

“Emerson, you just rescued my phone.
Of course
I'll help you.”

He grinned. “Awesome. I'll come over at eight then, if
that's okay?”

“That's
fine. See ya then.”
“See ya!” he reaffirmed, and then jogged toward his apartment as I wondered
what I'd just gotten myself into.

***

“So you and Emerson are gonna be study buddies as well
as lab partners, huh?” Leslie intoned, flashing me a cheeky grin. “I wonder
what the next step is?”

“Come on, Les, you know there won't be a next step.
And, we're not study buddies, alright? I'm just helping him out this one time.
That's it. It's a once off thing. I mean, he rescued my phone. One student
returning a favor to another.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

I crumpled a ball of paper from my notebook and tossed
it across the room at her. She barely managed to duck and avoid it.

“That's enough from you, smartass!” I said in a tone
of mock authority just as there was a knock on the door. Les checked her watch
and shot me a knowing glance.

“Well, he’s either punctual or eager. I’m going to go
with both! Should I let Prince Charming in with your glass slipper?”

“
You
will do
nothing of the sort. You are banned from the kingdom for the evening.”

She giggled. “Fine. I'll go sit in my room. I gotta
memorize a whole bunch of lines for tomorrow's audition, anyway. You two can
have the living room to yourselves. Don't get too rowdy in here, though,” she
said with a wink as she got up and went to her room.

A strange flutter of nerves bounced around in my
stomach as I got up to answer the door. I tried to shake it off. I hadn't been
lying to Leslie. This was just returning a favor. At least, I didn't think I
had lied to her. Unless I'd been lying to myself, as well.

I gave my body another good shake, trying to rid
myself of the unwelcome sensations before I opened the door. I took a deep
breath and, with my heart speeding up a tad, I opened the door and smiled.

“Hi, Emerson,” I said in as neutral a tone as I could
manage. “Come on in.”

“Hey, Brooke,” he said, giving me one of his heart-stopping
smiles. “Thanks again for agreeing to help me out, it really means a lot to
me.”

“No problem. Come on in, have a seat.” I pointed to
the sofa.

I made sure to sit across from him after he sat down
on the sofa, keeping the coffee table between us as a buffer. I wasn't quite
ready to be in close proximity to him — not yet.

“Anything to drink? Uh, we don't have beer, just so
you know, but we do have wine, bottled water, and green tea.”

I felt a bit like a prude the moment the beer comment
slipped from my lips, but I also didn't want there to be any uncertainty about
why he was there. I was doing my best to keep the encounter strictly business.

“Just some water, thanks.”

“Sure. Be right back.”

As I headed to the kitchen, the notion that his eyes were
roaming my body as I walked made me both a little nervous and a little excited.

I came back and handed him a bottle of water as I took
a seat.

“Alright, so, what are you having trouble with?” I asked,
getting straight to the task at hand and trying to avoid idle chatter.

“Oh, uh, well, right here, on page thirty-seven, the
stuff with these new equations. I'm not quite getting the formula that gets you
from A to B, if you know what I'm saying.”

“Oh yeah, I struggled with that one a bit, too. It
took me a while to get it, but once it clicks, it's actually pretty simple.” I
explained the concept, illustrating it as plainly and simply as I could. It
took a while, but he eventually got it. He went on to ask a few more questions
about certain new concepts that we'd just covered in recent reading. By the
time I'd answered his questions, about an hour had passed.

“Whew, time for a break,” I said.

“Nah, that's all for today,” he replied. “I think I've
pretty much got everything else down. But thanks. You're a really good teacher,
you know that? You've got a knack for explaining the complicated stuff, you
know, getting to the essence of it and simplifying it so that a doofus like me
can understand it.”

I blushed at the compliment, or maybe it was because
of the way his gaze lingered a little when he looked at me. Either way, being
around the man made me a little restless.

“Come on now, you're not a doofus. I'm pretty sure
most people in the class don't get half of these concepts. It's a tough class,
and it looks like you're doing pretty well despite that.”

“It
is
tough. But I gotta say, I'm really
motivated to do well this semester.”

“Good! So am I.”

“You're lucky you've got a roommate like Leslie. I'm
sure it's much easier to get stuff done in this apartment than it is in mine,”
he confessed pensively.

“Yeah, Leslie's awesome, and she's a hard worker, too.
I guess you're right, it is easy to get things done in here.”

I wanted to add, “
Except
when you and Chris are partying and having sex with those bimbos
,” but, of
course, I didn't.

“Yeah, she seems cool.”

“I guess it's not easy living with Chris if you're
trying to work hard at college, huh,” I asked.

Emerson chuckled and shook his head. “You have no idea.
Chris is a machine. He just doesn't stop, ever. I'm worried about him, to tell
the truth. He barely scraped through last semester. And, I'm talking only
barely
.
Like by a single point. And, he wasn't even partying as hard as he is now. I don’t
see how he's not gonna flunk out this semester. I feel bad, not because I feel
like he's gonna drag me down with him — I know I'll pass, even with the
partying he guilts me into — but because I can't seem to do anything to help
him. I feel like a bad friend.”

“Aw, that's sweet of you, Emerson. But you know a
person has to want to help themselves and change themselves before anyone else
can help them or get them to change. I know you care a lot about your friend,
but you can't blame yourself for his choices.”

“Yeah, I know. I still feel bad about it, though.”

“I can understand. I've been there myself.”

“You have?”

“Yeah.” The sting of memories rushed back. “I had a
friend in high school who developed anorexia. I know it's a totally different
situation than yours, but in some ways there are similarities. We all saw what
was happening as she got thinner and thinner, and we all desperately wanted to
help her. But she wouldn't even acknowledge that she had a problem, much less
that she needed help, even when we tried to stage an intervention. Eventually,
it got so bad that her family had to pull her out of school and put her in
hospital.”

“Oh man, that's terrible.”

“I know. And, all of us felt so guilty, like it had
been our fault because we hadn’t stopped her somehow. But it wasn’t that we hadn’t
tried so, so hard to get her to see herself differently. One of the saddest
parts was that she was beautiful before the disorder. But nothing we ever said
or did could convince her of that. Nothing.”