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Authors: Taryn A. Taylor

Mr. Wrong (4 page)

BOOK: Mr. Wrong
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“Excuse me,” he said it like she was the most annoying thing he’d ever encountered.

“Well, if you’d watch . . .” Sara looked up at him, trying to place where she’d seen him before. His blonde hair was windblown and his black sunglasses were dark.

“You.
” His voice was final, like he’d been expecting her somehow.

 

Chapter 7

 

Then it all came back to her—that day at the airport. She looked down at shiny, black cowboy boots. Sara didn’t know why the insides of her stomach went gooey. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He folded his arms and smiled.
“I guess it’s your lucky day.”

Sara
couldn’t believe he was standing there. His smile disarmed her. “What are you doing here?”

The corner of his mouth turned up.
“Well . . . I never got a thank you card.”

Taken off guard,
Sara laughed.

He
shrugged. “I grew up here. I have a friend in the business department, and he invited me to teach a couple of courses this year. I figured why not give students my wisdom and clarity?” He looked her up and down. “I assume you go to school here.”

She ran down the hall to her class. “
Wow—you’re good.”

**

The institute was packed. It seemed like every student in the three student wards were at the opening social. Sara walked in with her best friend Genova and Genova’s boyfriend, Kevin.

Carey walked over and took
Sara’s hand. His voice was sultry, and he twirled her into a dance move. “I’ve been waiting too long for you.”

Sara
pulled her hand away and glared at him. He would not come back into her good graces so easily.

“C’mon,
Sara, don’t do that.”

Genova
glared at him. “What did you do, Carey?”

Sara
smiled at her loyal friend. Genova had never cared for Carey anyway, always calling him a player.

Sara
put her hand into the air in a stopping gesture. “I just didn’t realize how selfish you are.”

Car
ey sighed. “What do you want me to do, Sara?”

Sara
stuck her chin in the air but didn’t look at him. “I want you to help me teach dance lessons to those two cute, old people that look forward to it.”

Carey didn’t budge.

Sara
began to walk away from him. “Ya know this is a perfect place to find someone else to help me.”

Carey unfolded his arms, lifting his hands in
to the air. “All right.”

“What?”

His expression was intense. “I said all right. Can we dance already?” He put his hand out.

Sara
smiled, reveling in the fact that Martha and Larry wouldn’t be disappointed. She put her hand in his and felt him pull her into some fast, complicated dance moves.

Sara
laughed and joked. “Carey, I could be Bella Swan in your arms.”

“Don’t insult me,” he said, picking her up and swinging her over his head into another move.
“I’m way better than Edward . . . more of a Jacob.” He pulled her closely to him and put his cheek against hers as they fell into an easy step.

Sara
snuggled into Carey’s shoulder. This was how it was between them. He was a fabulous dancer and made her laugh like crazy, but he was waiting for Sue, and she was waiting for Jonathon. It worked perfectly for them.


So who were you talking about in your article?”

Sara
smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Twirling
her out and into a circle, she felt herself become free—for an instant. Dancing did that for her. Carey rolled her back into his arms and the song ended. Their breath mingled and Carey whispered, “You’re so beautiful tonight.”

Pulling away from him,
Sara smacked his shoulder. He was always messing around with her.

“Seriously, what did you mean when you said,” he cleared his throat, “love is like dancing wit
h a good partner. If you pick the right one, you’ll never get bored and you’ll look forward to dancing into eternity.”

Sara
didn’t like the pensive look on Carey’s face and started walking back to where Genova and Kevin were sitting. She let go of his hand and turned away from him, scanning the room. “Um, I don’t know. It’s my job to say that stuff.”

Carey stepped in front of her, forcing her gaze on him.
“I think there might be something hidden in your message.”

Sara
scoffed at his flirtations, hating the fact they were starting to make her uncomfortable. Looking from Carey to Genova, she announced, “I’ll be right back, I’m getting some water.”

S
he maneuvered through the maze of people to the mound of water and assorted cookies spread across the table. Opening a bottle, she guzzled it back, leaning against the wall.

S
urveying the dance floor, she waved at some friends she’d gotten to know at the institute from previous years, noticing some of the new groups of freshman hovering in foyer and hall. She loved the institute and the closeness that came with it. Leaning over to grab a cookie, she touched hands with someone and looked up.

His pale blue eyes smiled at her.
Wearing a black, collared shirt and dark blue jeans, his blonde hair looked even whiter with the Christmas style lights strung above them.

“I guess you thought you’d made your great escape earlier today.”

For some reason her heart picked up speed
, and she wanted to tease him about earlier—when he’d obviously thought she’d forgotten his name. “And you are?”

Moving beside her,
Beau smiled and leaned back against the wall. “How soon your gratitude wanes.”

Sara
laughed. “Obviously I’m just lucky to run into you twice in the same day.”

A new slow song started, without asking, Beau grabbed her hand and started pulling her out onto the floor.
“Obviously.”

Sara
fell into step with him. “You know, a guy usually asks a girl if she wants to dance. I’m sure you’ve probably dated since the days a guy just clonked a girl over the head with a club, but I thought I’d let you know.”

He pulled her closer
to him. His cologne was light, and it wafted through her as he turned her out for a spin. “Sometimes a man just knows when a woman wants to dance with him.”

B
eau started into some steps she didn’t know and found herself having to pay attention to keep up with him. “You’re not bad.”

Beau took her through a series of movements and then jerked her
firmly against him, spinning them both. “Have you already Dear Johned your missionary?”

Her head started to spin
, and Beau slowed down, back to a simple two step. “What?”

He smiled and averted his ey
es for a split second to Carey then back to her.

Sara
looked at Genova as they danced by, giving her the ‘who is that’ look. “I’m still waiting for him.”

His smile widened.
“Let’s see, he should be back soon?”

Sara
gave him a patronizing smile. “Thirty-one days. But who’s counting?” Beau looked over at Carey, who now stood next to Genova and looked at them both with brooding eyes. “And who is that?”

Carey was giving them both a very authoritative parental look.

Sara
stifled a laugh. “Oh, we took a dance class together. He’s waiting for a missionary, too. We’re safe together.”


Hmm.” He said it like he didn’t agree with her.

“What?”

Sara
felt Beau’s breath softly in her ear. He spun her out and back. “Is that what he’s telling you?”

She
looked away from him. “He doesn’t have to say anything.”

“Well
, it’s lucky for you that I showed up tonight because he’s looking kind of unsafe at the moment. Maybe dancing with him is a good reminder that you want to date lots of guys. You’re supposed to date lots of guys, right? So when he gets back you know he’s the perfect one.”

 

Chapter 8

 

Sara shook her head in amazement. “And, isn’t it interesting that you seem to remember our conversation with such clarity?”

Spinning her out—he took her with his other hand, slipping her behind his back.
“Hmm.”

Sara
sighed. “You’ve already used the ‘hmm’ comeback.”

He exhaled and twirled her again.
“I didn’t know there was a limit, but I will remember that the next time I talk with you. I suspect you dance a lot with Carey at these things.”

Sara
noted the distaste in his tone and didn’t like the fact she felt like she had to defend herself to him. “Carey’s a good friend. He’s fun to dance with, that’s all.”

Beau shrugged
. “Does Jonathon know about him?”

Sara
squinted at him. “Isn’t it interesting that you remember Jonathon’s name?”

Beau ignored her comment.
“Have you dated enough guys yet?”

She felt her cheeks flushing.
“I’m working on it.”

“So you only have
one month left, huh? One month until your five-year plan gets another check mark.”

Sara
nodded, annoyance pulsing through her. “I guess so.”


You know he’s the best?”

He was mocking her.
She gave him another rude face. “He was always the best. Better than someone like you.”

Beau stopped dancing but stayed right next to her.
“Sweetheart, don’t mistake sympathy for interest. I was helping you out two years ago, and I’m just trying to help you out now.”

Sara
stared at him for a second, wondering how the conversation had turned out like this. “Well, it doesn’t feel like help.”

Beau scoffed.
“You’re not in love with him. You knew him what—two months?” “You’re in love with the idea of him. The thing you’ve built up in your mind.”

The fears she’d been carefully building a wall against, Beau
now shoved out into the open. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Beau shrugged, still staring at her.
“You know Jonathon about as well as you know me.”

She
held his gaze. “No, I love Jonathon.”

Beau was calm
. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. Is this the only pool you’ve been looking in the last two years? Cause I have to tell ya, it’s not that impressive.”

She
folded her arms, now utterly enraged. “Jonathon could swim circles around everyone in this room.”

Beau
paused for a minute and then looked behind her, shaking his head and turning away. “Looks like you better get back to swimming, the safe one is coming for you.”

Sara
watched him walk out of the gym doors. She wondered how, in one dance, he could disrupt the certainty she’d held so tightly around her for the past two years.

**

Her entrepreneurship class was, apparently, a bigger deal than she’d thought it would be. Students crowded the front of the class, waiting in line to talk to the instructor. Sara filed through, taking a seat next to Linda, an acquaintance from the institute. “Hey.”

“Are you good at this type of stuff
?” Linda’s eyes were glued to the paper syllabus.

Sara
pulled out her laptop, unwinding her cords and looking for a plug in. “It can’t be that hard, right? Start a business and stuff.”

Linda was the snow white of the institute and all the guys seemed to run to her side with a tissue if she sneezed.
Sara liked her but wondered how in the world she’d made it through their first two years of college. Linda twirled her long, black hair and looked like she already knew she would be dropping the class. “Formulating a business plan sounds hard.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Sara picked up the sheet of paper in front of her, zeroing in on the major class projects that she’d be required to do with a partner. There was only one, and a partner was optional. She felt relieved. She liked to have control over the whole project she was working on and usually ended up shouldering most of the burden of a team thing anyway.

“Wow,”
Linda said, her jaw dropping, “now he’s a good looking professor.”

Beau
walked into the classroom, shiny boots and all, with the Dean at his heels. He smiled broadly and put his things on the table in front of him.

Sara
felt all of the energy go out of her and crouched down behind her laptop.

Linda turned to her in confusion.
“What’s wrong with you?”

BOOK: Mr. Wrong
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