Summer Fling (Players of Marycliff University Book 1) (8 page)

Lance furrowed his brow. "What do you mean why? I just told you I like hanging out with you. You have to do laundry today. I get that you don't want to wear dirty clothes or stay up too late, so I'm dropping you off. But I want to see you again. I figured tomorrow would be a good option."

"I thought you didn't see anyone more than once or twice."

Lance's brows drew down. Now he looked angry as well as confused. "What? Why do you think that?"

Abby waived his question away. "It doesn't matter. Anyway, it's not like this can go anywhere. You're leaving in two months. I'm staying here. What's the point?"

"We can't see each other because I'm leaving? We can't have some fun together because it has a definite end date?" His voice was growing louder and more agitated as he talked.
 

Abby put a hand on his arm, trying to soothe him. "Okay. I just . . . if I spend every day with you, I might get attached. And then you'll leave, and I'll be here. I'm tired of being left. I can't."

Lance blew out a breath and seemed to deflate with it. He covered her hand with his and nodded. "Okay. Fine."

Lance got out and walked around the car to Abby's door. He held it open while she got out, then took her hand to walk her to her apartment. He waited for her to unlock her door, then cupping her face in his hands, kissed her. His lips were soft and gentle on hers. It was a kiss full of promise and longing.
 

He pulled away, still holding her face in his hands. His eyes studied her one last time. "Goodbye, Abby."

"Goodbye, Lance." He released her and she turned and went inside.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A key scraped in the lock and the front door opened in a way that suggested the person coming in hoped to remain undetected. Chris turned the handle before pushing the door closed and turned the handle back so it latched.
 

Lance watched him from his place on the couch, amusement coloring his irritation. When Chris turned and saw Lance, he jumped in surprise.

"Hey, man. I didn't expect you to be out here." Chris walked across the living room and tossed his keys on an end table before sitting on the other end of the couch.

Lance just shrugged, eyes still on the TV, and brought a beer bottle to his lips.

"What're you watching?" An explosion filled the screen.

"Die Hard."

"Which one?"

"The last one."

They sat in relative silence, watching high speed chases and more explosions.
 

"So was it just a quickie or did you strike out?"
 

"Shut up, Chris." Lance gripped the bottle in his hand tighter.

Chris laughed. "She turned you down, huh? That always stings."

Lance looked at the time on his phone. "What are you doing here? It's only three. I thought you guys were going to stay out until at least four."

Chris ran a hand over his close cropped sandy blonde hair. "I got bored and figured I could sneak in while you guys were otherwise occupied in your room."

Chris got up and went into the kitchen to grab his own beer. He handed another to Lance before sitting back down. "So what happened? From your attitude I gather she didn't come back here with you."

Lance opened the beer Chris handed him and took a drink. "She had things she needed to get done tonight and she has to be at work in the morning. I took her home."

Chris swigged his beer and studied Lance's profile. "Okay." He drew the word out. "Did you know she had stuff to do after lunch when you scheduled the date?" Lance nodded. "Why are you pissed off, then? Obviously you were hoping she'd rearrange her schedule a bit for you or you wouldn't have told Matt and me to scram, but it can't have been that surprising. Just take her out another night."
 

Lance clenched and unclenched his jaw a couple times. "I asked. She turned me down."

"Oooh, burn." Chris laughed. Lance clenched his teeth some more.
 

"Shut up, dude. Someone told her that I only go out with girls once or twice and that's why she told me no."
 

Lance could feel Chris's eyes on him again. "And? You do only go out with chicks once or twice. You either bang 'em and move on, or just move on. What's the big deal?"

Lance ground his teeth before spitting out his answer. "Yeah, I know. Today was four with Abby, though, so I don't know why it was suddenly a big deal today."

Chris just swigged his beer again before delivering his philosophical answer. "Chicks, man. What can you do?"

* * *

Abby was grading the homework from the morning language labs when she heard the faint buzzing from her bag. She fished it out from under the table where she was working in her classroom so she could see who was texting her.

It was her mom.
 

I need your help.

Abby pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to decide the best way to respond.
 

What do you need, Mom?

She tapped her finger on the side of her phone while waiting for a reply. When nothing came right away she went back to her grading.

Bzzz, bzzz
. Another text.
 

You need to come home.

It was Wednesday afternoon. Maybe her mom could wait a couple more days.

Can it wait until this weekend?
 

No. Come home now.
 

This time the response was immediate. Abby let out a low growl of irritation, but she was worried, too.

Do I need to call 911?

No. I need your help.

That meant that she wasn't about to try to kill herself at least. Probably.

I'm working now. I'll come after.
 

Abby waited, but her mother didn't text back. The florescent lights overhead glared down at her, reflecting off the dingy institutional floor.

What now?
was all she could think as she went back to grading.
 

She had one more lab to teach at three, and then she was done. She usually stayed until five, grading the assignments from her last lab, but today she left when she was done teaching.
 

Abby poked her head into the office across the hall from the classroom. "Dr. Ramirez?"
 

"Yes, Abby?" Dr. Ramirez looked up from where she worked at the computer on her battered wooden desk. She taught the classes that Abby ran the labs for. "How did the language labs go today?"

"Good. I got a text from my mom earlier." Abby made an effort to keep her voice neutral.

The look on Dr. Ramirez's face changed from polite curiosity to sympathy. "Ah. You need to go?" As Abby's academic advisor, Dr. Ramirez was aware of the difficulties in Abby's relationship with her mom.
 

Abby nodded. "She says she needs help with something at home. I know I usually stay until five, but I need to go see what she needs."

"Of course. Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Dr. Ramirez's dark eyes showed sympathy and concern.
 

"I will. Thanks." With a little wave, Abby left.

Abby's flip flops slapped her feet as she hurried out of the building and down the street. She lived close enough to campus that she usually walked. Today she wished she'd brought her car.

Abby hurried home, taking only ten minutes for a walk that usually took fifteen. She was sweating by the time she got there from hurrying in the warm June day. She went straight to her car, a twelve year old blue Kia Rio. She had gotten out her keys a block from home, and the car beeped as she hit the button on the key fob to unlock it.
 

She slid into the driver's seat, threw her bag in the passenger seat, shoved her key in the ignition, and turned.
 

Nothing happened.

She tried again. There was a faint clicking sound, but the engine wasn't even trying to turn over.
 

Abby rested her head against the steering wheel and resisted the urge to scream. She didn't even want to go see her mom, but if she didn't, she didn't know what her mom might do to herself. She had no idea what was going on or why her mom needed her, but she had to figure out how to get there.
 

She reached for her bag and pulled out her phone. Megan could take her. She knew about her mom's issues and would be able to handle it without making a big deal of things. Depending on what was going on, maybe Megan would even be helpful. Abby called her.
 

When Megan didn't answer, she tried again.

Megan was working for a temp agency over the summer. She should get off at 5:00, and it was only 4:15. Abby tried her one more time, but she still didn't answer.

She leaned her head back against the headrest of her seat, trying to decide what to do. She could wait 45 minutes until Megan got off work. Or she could try someone else.

Abby scrolled through her contact list. Nearly everyone was gone for the summer or she didn't know them well enough to ask for their help.

Her eyes kept drifting back to one name as she scrolled through her contacts, trying to pick someone.
 

Lance.

Oh, God.

* * *

The light above Lance buzzed and went dim. He looked up at it from his desk in the spare cubicle and growled. It had been doing that off and on all day.
 

Bzzz, click
.
 

Dim.
 

Bzzz, click.
 

Bright.
 

Bzzz, click.
 

Dim.
 

He was ready to climb up there and change the damn thing himself.

Bzzz
. He looked up at the still dim fluorescent bulb.
Bzzz
. He realized he was hearing his phone vibrate in his desk drawer, not the stupid light.
 

He opened the drawer and was surprised to see Abby's name on his screen. She was calling him. He considered letting it go to voicemail. He was at work after all, even if there was less than an hour left. But, why would she be calling? They'd only ever texted, and she'd shot him down last time he saw her.
 

Curiosity got the better of him. He brought his thumb down on the green button, but the call disappeared just before he answered it. Not feeling like waiting to see if she'd leave a voicemail, he unlocked his phone and called her back.

"Lance?" Relief was evident in Abby's voice.

"Abby? What's wrong?"
 

He heard her take a deep breath and then let it out, but she didn't say anything.

"Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell me why you're calling me?"

"Um, are you busy?" Her voice held a mixture of fear and hope and something he couldn't identify.

"I'm at work, so yeah, I'm kind of busy." His words came out sounding more pissed off than he'd meant. He'd been having trouble concentrating all day. All week, really. The light had been bugging him, sure, but not as much Abby's rejection on Sunday.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I just— Sorry to bother you."
 

Lance winced at her response. He took a breath and tried again. "No, it's fine. You're not bothering me. What's wrong?"

There was another long pause. Then he heard her muttering what he thought sounded like curses. "I need a ride to my mom's." She said it in a rush, like she couldn't get the words out fast enough.

"You need a ride to your mom's?" He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but that hadn't been it at all.

He heard Abby take another deep breath. "Yeah. She texted me earlier that she needed my help for something at home and my car won't start. I'm sorry to bother you with this, but Megan's not answering and I didn't know who else to call."

Lance's eyes flicked to the clock on his monitor. It was 4:22. "I get off at 5:00. Can I come get you at 5:30?"

"If that's the earliest you can make it, then, yeah. If Megan gets here sooner than that I'll text you so you don't have to bother."

"It's not a bother. I'll see if I can make it any earlier."

He heard Abby let out another breath, this one sounding more relieved. "Thanks, Lance."

He hit the end button on his phone and saved what he was working on. He really hadn't made much progress since lunch anyway. Leaving a little bit early wouldn't make any difference. Abby was so obviously upset that it brought out his protective side. She needed him and he wasn't going to make her wait any longer than necessary. He wondered what was going on with her mom that had her so worked up.

He stuck his head in his supervisor's office. "Hey. I kind of have a personal crisis that I need to take care of. Is it okay if I duck out early?"
 

His supervisor just waved him off without looking up from his computer and Lance was out the door.
 

A half hour later he was knocking on Abby's door, still wearing his slacks and button down shirt from work. He'd taken off his tie on the way over, undone the top button of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves so he could be a little more comfortable.

She opened the door, standing in the opening so he couldn't get in or see past her. She was wearing the shirt he'd bought her on Sunday with a pair of Bermuda shorts that were styled like dress pants and the sandals she wore to the party on Saturday night. "Hey. I didn't think you'd make it this quick. Megan's on her way home, so she can just take me. You're off the hook." She gave him a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.
 

"I'm already here. I don't mind taking you. You'll obviously feel better if you get there sooner than later."
 

Abby's eyes flicked over his clothes, then studied his face. She nodded once. "Thanks, Lance. Let me just grab my bag and we can go."
 

Lance waited outside for a moment, then Abby was back, locking up the apartment on her way out. He walked her to his car and opened the passenger door for her.
 

She looked up at him just before he closed it. "Thanks for doing this for me."