Not Just Another Romance Novel (15 page)

He grinned, and then looked at me wistfully for a second. “I hate to rush, but you have class soon. You ready to eat?”

I nodded, and he pulled two packages out of the paper bag. He handed one to me.

“Thank you,” I said, still unsure what it was.

Next he handed me a container of salsa, and then he pulled a bag of tortilla chips out of the paper bag.

“Best breakfast in San Diego,” he said.

I opened the wrapper and found a breakfast burrito. It smelled delicious, and my mouth watered…although that could’ve been from my proximity to Dax as he sat next to me on the couch.

“What’s in it?” I asked.

“Egg, potato, and bacon.” He bit into his, and this look of utter bliss crossed over his face. I forcefully restrained myself from throwing my burrito on the ground and attacking him.

I wanted to cause that look of bliss on his face.

And I knew someday I would.

I glanced over at the clock. It was already half past noon. “Didn’t you have practice at noon?”

He nodded. “I told them I’d be late.”

“Dax, you shouldn’t have.” I took a bite of my burrito, and I was pretty sure that same look of bliss crossed my features, too.

He shifted slightly as he watched me. “It’s no problem. They’re playing with riffs we can set to some lyrics I wrote. We worked out the basics at our practice yesterday.”

“That sounds like something you should be there for.”

He shrugged. “I will be. You needed me.”

I was one really, really lucky girl.

After we finished the best breakfast in San Diego, Dax laced up the brace over my elastic bandage. It was too swollen for shoes, but he tied up one sneaker on my good foot, grabbed my crutches, and drove me to the Psych building.

When I crutched my way into class, Austin immediately jumped to his feet to help me. “Oh my God, Piper! What happened?” he asked as he helped me hobble over to our usual table. Scott and Shannon weren’t there yet.

“Sprained it.”

Just as I settled into a chair, Scott and Shannon walked in.

Scott looked tired, even a little angry, but his eyes softened when they met mine. My heart stuttered a little in my chest when our eyes met.

What the hell?

I was falling for Dax. He was the total package—smart, talented, sexy. He took care of me. He brought me breakfast and chocolate and sugar and an ankle brace.

Yet my heart told me Scott was in there, too.

This was monumentally confusing. Everything pointed me to Dax, and when I was with Dax, everything was exactly how it should be.

But every time I’d seen Scott over the past couple of weeks, this wrench of confusion pulled at me and twisted everything up in my mind.

I looked away.

“Piper! What the hell happened?” Shannon shrieked.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered. “I just sprained it.”

“How?” she pressed.

Oh, fuck.

I hadn’t thought about how to explain my injury to my friends.

“Uh…I just rolled it. Came down funny on it and rolled it right under me.”

“Were you with the rock star when it happened?” Shannon asked.

I nodded, hoping I’d be able to avoid what had really happened. “He took me to the emergency room last night and they gave me these stupid things,” I said, nodding to my crutches. “And painkillers.” I flashed a smile, and Austin and Shannon giggled with me. Scott, however, remained silent. His jaw was clenched, the muscles working back and forth as he stared ahead at Dr. Prestbury.

God. He was so goddamn confusing. I was really starting to hate him.

After class, the four of us went to the library to share notes and complete our study guide for our test on Thursday. Shannon carried my bag and Austin volunteered to buy me a soda. Shannon excused herself to the restroom just as Austin walked away, and it was just Scott and me at the table.

This strange awkwardness descended.

We’d never had awkward before. Our conversation had always been fun, free, and flowing. But lately, it was the opposite.

We were both quiet. I could feel tension between us, and I didn’t know what to do to get it to go away.

Scott stared down at his notebook, and I stared over at Scott. The more I watched him, the more handsome I found him. I’d never looked at him that way, but the jaw that working back and forth so tirelessly was strong and solid. It was covered with a sexy smattering of stubble. He had high cheekbones and full lips and thick lashes. I focused on his lips for a second. I couldn’t help wondering what they’d feel like against mine. They looked soft and plush.

I brushed away the traitorous, errant thought.

He glanced up at me, catching my eyes on his lips. I flicked my eyes to his. “You feel okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded.

“Need anything?”

I shook my head.

And then Austin came back. He handed me a Sprite, and Shannon returned a minute later, and then we got down to studying.

I studied Scott as we worked. He never looked directly at me. He avoided me unless I directly addressed him.

Something was up, but he wasn’t going to talk to me about it.

18

Can I bring you dinner?

Dax had been texting me periodically throughout the day, making sure I felt okay and seeing if I needed anything.

That sounds awesome
.

My ankle was throbbing again, probably because I’d been up and moving around too much. I probably should’ve skipped class and stayed on my couch all day, but I knew how much damage missing one class could have on my GPA.

So I powered through two classes plus my study session with my friends. I finished my homework and made a list of interview questions for Mr. Greene. I had no idea how ask him on a date during our conversation, but I’d get creative. I supposed I wasn’t really taking Alice’s advice into account to be prepared for the meeting. The throbbing ache in my ankle and the painkillers prevented me from feeling too anxious about it, though.

And the throbbing ache down low in my belly caused by Dax wreaked havoc with my brain.

I was crazy with desire for him, and between that, my ankle, my project, and this weirdness with Scott, I felt completely out of whack.

I actually started to really look forward to Thanksgiving. A few days away back home with my family sounded perfect.

And then I remembered my plan to hit on my stepbrother, and all thoughts of a sweet, picture-perfect family Thanksgiving vanished from my mind as dread took over.

I couldn’t ask him for a “date” like the others on my list. I had to handle that situation with care.

And if I had time before I left for Vegas, I’d definitely need to put on
Clueless
—my favorite nineties movie and the original stepbrother romance.

Dax stood at my door about thirty minutes later with sandwiches. He wore a black shirt proclaiming he was a “Rock Star.”

We ate, we laughed, we chatted, and then he helped me to bed. He handed me a painkiller, and I washed it down with the water he’d set beside my bed.

He pulled off his shirt like he’d done the night before, and I couldn’t help my look of adoration and appreciation at his fine male form.

He grinned wickedly at me, and then he stalked over toward me. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips moving softly over mine. I moved to open my mouth to his to deepen the kiss when he pulled away.

I shot him a look of disappointment, and he did his cute little manly giggle.

“I almost think I shouldn’t spend the night, but I don’t want you hobbling around here without my help in the morning.”

“You shouldn’t spend the night?” I felt the pang of insult.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That didn’t come out right.”

He got in my bed next to me, and he leaned up on his elbow in my direction. My eyes had this beautiful visual feast of the muscles in his chest and torso as they rippled beside me.

“What I meant to say is we both know exactly where we were headed when the ankle accident happened.” His voice was husky and musical.

He ran a finger over my lips and down my throat, stopping on my collarbone. I was silent. “It’s taking everything in my willpower not to finish what we started. I’ve had a hard-on since Friday for you, but the timing hasn’t been right.”

His voice got somehow huskier. Softer. Rougher. “And I’m not going to fuck you when you’re on painkillers. I want you to feel me. Every hard inch of me.”

I let out a soft moan at his words. If I’d felt an ache for him before, this was anguish. Torture.

He fell back to his side of the bed and threw an arm over his eyes. It was the same thing he’d done on Friday when he’d slowed things down between us.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” I muttered.

“I really like you, Piper. I want this to work between us.”

“I like you, too, Dax.” I thought about telling him about my project. Part of me felt like I was deceiving him. We’d only met in the first place because of my experiment, and I wanted to tell him that.

I sort of wanted to be honest with him that I had a few more dates lined up, too.

But then the painkillers hit and lulled me into sleep.

***

My alarm woke me a little after seven. It was usually enough time for me to shower and get to Stats at eight, but that was when I had two working ankles and when I didn’t need to figure out what the hell to wear after class to my meeting with Mr. Greene.

Beautiful Dax slept beside me in my bed, and I couldn’t help my smile. Or my stare.

I nudged him. He grumbled something and rolled over. I left him alone while I hobbled out of bed. The brace seemed to help, and that morning I could actually walk on my ankle as long as the brace was really, really tight. It still didn’t feel good, but at least I’d be able to make it through my meeting with Mr. Greene without the crutches. I hoped.

I showered, put on my make-up, and dried my hair. I even curled it a little. I wore jeans and a t-shirt for now. I’d have some time after Stats to get dressed for my meeting.

Dax was still asleep, so I left him a note on my counter.

I decided to drive myself to class. I parked in front of the Psych building, my ankle shooting pain up my leg the entire drive. I’d have to deal with it, though, because I didn’t have a ride to Greene Apps. I certainly couldn’t ask Dax, and I no longer felt comfortable asking Scott, the only friend I’d see that morning in class before my meeting.

I used my crutches to stay off of my ankle as much as possible, and when I walked into Stats, Scott was already there. He flipped through the textbook, reviewing our assigned readings for the week. I probably should’ve done that, too. I was starting to wonder if he was still willing to be my personal tutor.

I took my seat next to him and spoke tentatively. “Good morning, Scott.”

He pressed his lips together in one of those smiles you reserved for strangers, not looking up from his book. “Hey.”

“You doing okay?” I asked.

He nodded.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked, still flipping pages.

“Starting to feel a little better.”

He nodded. “Good.”

He was still treating me like I wasn’t even a friend. Like I was an acquaintance. And that pained me.

He had to have sensed I started feeling things for him I shouldn’t. He wasn’t purposely hurting me or ignoring me. He just didn’t know how to tell me things could never happen between us. He didn’t know how to let me down gently, so he kept his distance.

Even though I had no clue how he could possibly know how I felt, that had to be it.

I pulled my phone out of my purse to check my email before class started.

I had a new one from Master Sebastian.

Piper,

Today’s the day. If you respond with answers to the questions below, that is your consent for a one day trial.

1. Reply to this email with one word that makes you think of sex.

2. Only if you are comfortable, send me your cell phone number. If not, we can continue this over email, but you will need to set your push notifications to alert you whenever you have a new email.

3. Send me a picture of the shoes you’re wearing right now.

-Master Sebastian

So Master Sebastian had a shoe fetish? He wanted to see my ankle wrapped in an elastic bandage and covered with a brace?

This was probably not the best day ever for this to happen, but I didn’t want to miss my chance.

I took a picture of my feet as discreetly as I could. I could’ve sworn Scott looked over at me, but I was past the point of caring.

Master,

1. Thrust

2. I prefer email.

3. I will send the picture in a separate email.

Class is starting now.

-Piper

I sent the email, I sent the picture, and then I changed my mail settings to let me know whenever a new email came through. I set my phone face-down on my desk. I realized this was rude, and it wasn’t something I ever did, but today I needed to be available for my master.

Dr. Harris was in the middle of his lecture when my phone buzzed. Scott glanced over in my direction. I slid the screen open and checked my new email.

Piper,

Well done. Did you hurt yourself? That may change the direction of my plans for you.

Class or no class, you are to respond within ten minutes to each of my emails. If you choose not to, I will create a punishment for you.

Tell me what class you are in. I want to learn about you.

-Master

Ten minutes? I was so bad at following orders. I already knew this would be an epic failure. But I had to give it my all.

Master,

I’m a Psych student, and I’m sitting in Statistics right now.

-P

My phone buzzed almost immediately. Scott shot another look in my direction without really looking at me.

Piper,

No abbreviations. You have a beautiful name and I want you to use it. I know I will be as I’m climaxing later.

Send me a picture of something to prove you’re in statistics.

-Master

I blushed at his email. The climaxing comment seemed a little forward considering this was like his fifth email to me.

I snapped a quick picture of Scott’s textbook next to me proclaiming
PSYCHOLOGICAL STATISTICS
and sent it off.

He left me alone for a little bit, and I wondered what
he
did for a living.

My phone buzzed near the end of the lecture. We always had a question and answer session at the end of lectures, and I had a feeling Dr. Harris would call on me.

But I couldn’t keep Master Sebastian waiting. I was a little fearful of what the punishment might be. I realized the only one holding myself to it was me, but I didn’t do things half-assed. I was in this.

I opened up the email.

Piper,

Tell me what pleases you sexually.

-Master

Oh jeez. I had to tell him what pleased me sexually within ten minutes while I sat in the middle of class, likely to be called on to answer a question at any moment?

I started my reply, not really sure what to say.

Master,

I enjoy a really hard climax.

-Piper

I flushed as I hit send, and then I heard my name up in front of the class. “Piper?”

Oh, fuck.

Dr. Harris stared at me intently. He’d asked me a question, and I had no idea what it was because I’d been emailing back Master Sebastian with my sexual preferences when it came to hard climaxes.

Scott whispered something next to me. He barely moved his mouth so Dr. Harris wouldn’t catch him, but I thought I heard him say “partial correlation.”

“Partial climax?”

I heard a few snickers in the row ahead of me. Scott cleared his throat next to me. I glanced over at him, and he looked at me pointedly. “Correlation,” he whispered.

I looked at him in confusion.

Didn’t I just say that?

“No, Ms. Andrews,” Dr. Harris said. “Not partial
climax
.”

“Uh, I mean correlation.”

My cheeks burned in complete and utter mortification.

I glanced over at Scott, and even he was trying to hide his laughter as he stared straight ahead. His cheeks were pink, and he looked so freaking adorable that I wanted to hug him.

Wait. What? I wanted to hug Scott after he sat there laughing at me?

He had, in his defense, given me the correct answer after I’d been the one not paying attention for the majority of the lecture.

“That’s better, Ms. Andrews.” Dr. Harris moved onto another student, and the snickering mostly stopped. I sat with my hand resting on my forehead, shielding myself from the mocking glances of my classmates.

I practically ran out of the room after class ended, but I wasn’t very fast on crutches. Scott easily caught up with me. “You okay?” he asked.

I glared over at him and caught the clear amusement still in his eyes.

“Fine,” I snapped.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me. I’m the one who gave you the right answer.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. I headed toward my car.

“Are you okay to drive on that ankle?”

I wasn’t, but I didn’t want to look weak in front of him, either. “Driving is better than hobbling back to my apartment.”

I stood by my driver’s side door. I held the crutches between my armpits as I dug through my purse for my keys. Of course nothing could go right that morning, and just as I found my keys, one of the crutches slipped out of my grasp and banged into my car door before crashing to the ground. And then my phone buzzed with a new email.