Loud: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Male Romance) (5 page)

I
was
being ridiculous. There was no logical
reason for me to be feeling like I was, especially for some douchebag, hot-shot
jock who was the polar opposite of my type. I drew in a deep breath, composed
myself, and made sure I had an expression of calm neutrality on my face, and
then I walked out, looking as nonchalant and carefree as possible.
“Hi, Emerson. Hi…um…what was your name again?” is what I was going to say. But
I didn’t get the chance.

Granted, it was petty, but I sure as hell wasn't going
to give that poor excuse for a woman the satisfaction of knowing that she'd
made enough of an impression on me for me to remember her name. Even if the
reason I
did
remember, it was because
she’d made a terrible impression.

I strutted down the walkway, running a hand through my
hair which was, I had to admit, looking especially sexy and luscious for a
bummed out Saturday. I fully prepared myself to dish out my cool disdain to
jock-boy and bimbo, but I was quickly stopped in my tracks.

He was already on the bike, his helmet on, glancing up
and down the street to make sure it was clear. She was hanging on his back, her
arms wrapped tight around his torso like those ugly little primates with the
big bulging eyes I’d seen at a zoo once.

He clicked the rumbling machine into gear and with a
fistful of loud, roaring throttle, he took off at a blistering pace and quickly
disappeared around a bend at the end of the road as smoothly as any racer I’d ever
seen handle a bike on TV. There was something sexy and alluring about it.

But more than the unwanted impulse of attraction,
which I quickly suppressed, I felt disappointment. After gearing myself up for a
performance — I'd wanted to show him and Melissa just how little I cared about
them — I'd been denied an audience.

Okay, so maybe it was
more
than a little petty.
In fact, it was pretty full-on bitchy. I had no clue what had come over me. I
shook my head and shook out my arms too, trying to rid myself of this strange,
uncomfortable feeling that seemed to take hold of me whenever I saw Emerson.

There was only one way to get past it. I needed to
avoid him and his chauvinist friend, Chris, as much as possible. Given that
they lived next door to me, I realized that might prove difficult. Nonetheless,
I
had to
do it.

Avoid.
At
all
costs.

CHAPTER
SIX

Emerson

“Come on, bro, the dive bar on 4
^th
has
their two for one special! Remember? Last Sunday of every month. Let's hit it,
I bet there'll be some talent there. In fact, I know there'll be talent — hot,
fresh talent that just arrived for the new semester! This
is
a college
town, ya know.”

“Chris, dude, I
told
you already. I've got to
do some prelim reading before the first day of class tomorrow. Seriously, man,
I need to get through these articles. And, you should be brushing up a bit
yourself. You
barely
scraped through last semester.”

Chris' expression morphed instantly from a cheesy grin
to a scowl. He looked away from me and shook his head. “Bro, you're acting like…like
a freakin'
old man
these days. Where's the E-Train I'm used to, huh?
Man, for the past month you've been so damn serious. Lighten up!”

“Chris, we've been out drinking two nights in a row.
We got back from the club at…what was it? Six in the morning Saturday? Then fourteen
hours later, we were hitting it hard again. And that carried on until three
this morning. Seriously, man, aren't you even feeling the slightest bit tired
after all that? I know I am. If I do it again tonight, I guarantee that I won't
be able to wake up for class tomorrow. And even if I do manage to get to class,
I'll probably fall asleep halfway through. I've gotta have at least
one
quiet, sober, early evening. Seriously.”

Chris got up, obviously upset. “Whatever man. I'm
gonna call Brent. He'll go have beers with me, at least. Enjoy your
books,
bro,”
he mumbled as he left the apartment.

I shook my head and sighed as I watched him leave. He
really could act like such a spoiled child sometimes. We weren't eighteen
anymore. I didn’t know when he’d realize that I needed to start taking life a
bit more seriously and, quite frankly, so did he. However, there didn't seem to
be any way to get through to him, so what could I do? I leaned back in my chair
and resumed reading, trying to get my mind off Chris and the tension building in
our friendship.

Several hours later, I closed my books and yawned,
stretching my arms out in front of me. I felt proud of myself at that moment.
I'd managed to get through everything I needed to read before my first class the
next morning. To be honest, I should have read most of it a week before instead
of procrastinating and wasting a bunch of time partying and then having to do
it all at the last minute. But at least I'd had the determination to get it
done, even if that happened to be the night before class.

I got up, stretched out a bit more, grimacing as my
arms and chest burned from the post-workout pain from the grueling Saturday
session, and then headed to the kitchen to whip up a protein shake before bed.

As I was shaking the whey powder and milk in my gym
bottle, for whatever reason the Ice Queen next door popped into my mind. I found
myself wondering what she was going to be studying and if I'd see her around
campus. I wondered if she had a boyfriend and maybe that’s why she was so
stand-offish.

I stopped shaking the bottle and caught a glimpse of
myself reflected in the kitchen window. I raised a skeptical eyebrow, looking
at my reflection disapprovingly, and started to talk to myself.

“Dude, what are you doing? Why are you thinking about the
Ice Queen
again?
Seriously, you have nothing in common with her. As a
matter of fact, stop wasting your time thinking about girls, period. You gotta
get focused on school. Ration your partying time accordingly. And while you’re
at it, try to be a good friend and help Chris do the same. God knows he needs
it even more than you do. Not that he seems to understand that. And for
Christ’s sake, stop thinking about the girl next door. Brooke isn't gonna help
with any of that. In fact, a chick like her will only make your life way more
complicated than you can afford for it to be.”

I stared at my reflection for a minute and then gave
myself a respectful nod.

“Thanks for the pep talk, man.”

“No worries, I got your back.”

I chuckled, thinking that if anyone had been watching my
little exchange, they'd surely think I was insane. But I'm sure everyone does
that sort of stuff when they're by themselves…right?

I chugged down the protein shake and then washed out the
bottle really thoroughly. I learned the hard way that stuff gets
real
nasty if left overnight. Leave it over a few days and you've got a nuclear
situation the scale of Chernobyl on your hands. Not even joking.

I shuffled to the bathroom, turning off all the lights
except one dim lamp in the living room so Chris would at least be able to see
when he stumbled around like a blind man after he returned home from his
alcohol-induced evening. I then headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and
wash up before bed.

I got it all done in record time, then headed off to
my room. It was only ten o' clock – plenty early for me. I switched off the
light and was asleep in seconds.

***

I had no idea what time Chris had made it in, but his
door was shut and I could hear his snoring when I got up nice and early the
next morning. I showered and had a healthy breakfast of granola, fruit, and a
protein shake. I was feeling pretty great. I'd done my mandatory reading, got
my prep-work done, and I was looking forward to the first day of classes. The
sun was even shining when I opened the door to head out. It seemed like a
pretty perfect day: blue skies, warm but not uncomfortably hot, and crowds of
fresh-faced, eager students milling around outside the apartments.

After locking the place up and heading to the parking
lot, I put on my helmet, climbed on my bike, and fired her up. I loved that
sound! It was going to be a great day. After my bike was suitably warmed up, I
clicked her into gear and tore off down the road. I could have easily walked,
but any excuse I got to ride my mean machine, I took it. Not to mention, it
definitely made more of an impression arriving on campus riding a bright red,
howling motorcycle than it did walking.

I pulled into the parking lot and dismounted after
parking my bike in the spot I had dubbed my “usual spot” the previous semester.
I locked my helmet to the tank and headed to the science building. My first
lecture of the day was chemistry. I won't lie, I was feeling pretty stoked
about it until I realized the west wing of the building was more than a little
empty. There should have been a steady stream of students walking in, hurrying
to the lecture, which was set to begin in five minutes. Instead, it seemed I
was the only person there.

I was trying to find my class schedule in my backpack
when it hit me and panic made the blood in my veins run ice-cold. I lifted
smacked myself in the forehead, cursing at myself for my stupidity. I had been
going on last semester's schedule and thinking my chemistry class was in the
west wing when it was, instead, in the east wing!

I was going to be about fifteen minutes late for my
first class.

Perfect. Just when I was trying to turn things around,
here I was about to stroll into class fifteen minutes late and make a terrible
first impression. I really couldn't think of a shittier way to start off the
new semester. Out of instinct, I turned and started back toward the east wing.
After a few steps, I stopped in my tracks. My mind raced as I tried to decide if
I should just turn around and leave, pretend I'd been sick. That would look
slightly better than arriving late, right?

But if I did that, I'd miss out on a wealth of really
important stuff. It was crucial to be at the first class if I wanted to get a
good grip on what the class would be like for the rest of the semester.

No. As awful as it would be, I knew I needed to suck
it up and walk in fifteen minutes late. I just had to hope I could talk to the
professor after class and explain my mistake. Maybe she’d be reasonable about
it. No matter the outcome, there was only one thing I could do at the moment.

I took off at a fast jog and ran across down hallway
after hallway until I reached the east wing. After I bolted up the stairs, I
rounded the first corner and stopped in front of the door I should have entered
fifteen minutes before. As I expected, it was closed and looking more than a
little intimidating. With a lump in my throat, I walked to it and pushed it
open slowly, fully expecting the class to fall silent, followed by me getting
embarrassingly reprimanded for being late by the professor in front of
everyone.

I breathed a quietly audible sigh of relief. She was
writing on the board and almost every student was scribbling notes in notebooks
or on iPads and tablets. I saw an available seat a few paces away from me, near
the door in the back row. Without even scanning for any other seats, I dashed
over and plonked my ass down, just as the professor turned around from the
board to continue with her lecture.

Breathing hard from the run across campus, I leaned
back in the chair, silently thanking every deity I could think of that I hadn't
been busted for walking in late. The class was huge, so the professor
thankfully didn't even notice there was now an extra body in the room.

I slid my backpack to the floor, opened it, and got my
tablet out so I could start taking notes, too. That’s when I looked at the
person sitting in front of me and I almost fell off my chair.

Brooke
.

My heart started racing and I fumbled with my tablet,
which dropped to the floor and clattered noisily. That got everyone's
attention, you know…the attention I’d been trying to avoid. Everyone turned
their heads to investigate the sound — including Brooke, who looked right into
my eyes as she turned around.

I have no idea what emotions ran through her mind when
our eyes locked, but I imagined it was a cocktail similar to that which ran
through my own head: surprise, shock, confusion, and definitely attraction.

I was even more surprised to see her cheeks turn a
gorgeous shade of red to match what it felt my own face was doing. That’s
right, I blushed. Something I almost
never
do. Brooke hurriedly averted
her eyes from mine and turned around without saying or doing anything else.

She didn't look at me again for the rest of the class
and I tried to keep my mind off of her while I took notes and did my best to
pay attention — which was almost impossible with her lush, flowing hair and the
delicate curve of her exposed shoulders mere inches from me. But, as if that
wasn’t enough, the real kicker came at the end of the lesson.

The professor wrapped up her lesson by addressing the
class.

“As you all know, we're going to be doing a lot of
practical lab work this semester,” she started. “And, that means that every
student in here is going to have to have a lab partner. Now, what I don't want
is for you to be working with your friend or someone you already know well.
That, I'm afraid, will lend itself to fooling around in the labs and wasting of
valuable time. So, I've taken the liberty of running all of your names through
a computer program which has randomized partners. I'm going to read the list of
names and who you are partnered with, and I want you to make a careful note of
who your lab partner is going to be for the rest of the semester. Now, unless
there is an extremely prudent reason that you cannot work with the person
you've been assigned to — and I'm talking serious issues here, people, serious
issues. Not 'I don't like them' or 'they're not fun' or any other wishy-washy
nonsense like that — you will be partnered with this person for the entire
semester. Understand?”

We all mumbled monosyllabic responses of affirmation.

“Good. I'll start.”

She began reading out the names. I sat bolt upright in
my seat, wondering with suspense who I was going to be stuck with for the rest
of the semester. My pulse began to race as soon as she read out the first name
and it happened to be mine.

“Emerson Reed, your lab partner is Brooke Baker. Could
you both raise your hands please?”

I thought my heart was going to explode, my pulse was
hammering so hard in my chest. Brooke and I both raised our hands, but she didn't
even turn around to look at me.

“Good. Next, Jonathan Biln, you're with David
Henderson. Could you two raise your hands? Yes. Fran Corleone, you're with-”

The professor's voice began to fade out as I thought
about what had just happened. Brooke, the Ice Queen, was going to be my lab
partner. This was gonna be interesting.