"Don't worry about that, El," he whispered in my ear. "I'm not going to use it. When I'm near you, I can't help it." He kissed my neck. "Relax. Sleep tight."
I tried, I really did. But I was all too aware of him. I had never slept with someone's arms around me. Wrapped in his embrace, I felt safe, and awkward. I was afraid to move, worrying that I'd disturb him. It took a long time, but at last I drifted off.
When I woke, he was still sleeping, his face relaxed and handsome, peaceful in a way it wasn't when he was awake. It broke my heart a little to think he carried that mysterious burden around with him. I wished he could share it with me, and at the same time, a part of me didn't want it to taint what I knew of him.
I carefully untangled myself from his embrace. I checked my phone. A text from Dex, reminding me in code that it was mission day and to be on my game. I responded that I was bringing my A game and set the phone on the nightstand by the bed. Then I slipped to the bathroom.
When I looked in the mirror, I was puffy-eyed from sleep and I had a sheet print across my cheek. My scar stood out pink and ugly. I was exposed and there was nothing I could do about it. I'd left my makeup at the dorm. I was no beauty in the morning.
I frowned as I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it and brush it around my face to cover the scar at least a little. I brushed my teeth, rinsed my face, and gave up. This was as good as I got. I smelled like Logan and his bed.
In the bedroom, I slid my jeans on.
"Morning, beautiful."
I gasped and jumped and pressed my hand to my heart.
Logan leaned on one elbow, watching me. His hair was tousled almost artfully and the drowsy look in his eyes was simply sexy.
"You scared me." I looked around for my cell phone.
"I didn't mean to." He held my cell phone up. "Looking for this?"
I let out a sigh of relief. "Yes." I lunged for it.
He held it out of my grasp. "Come and get it."
"Just give it back."
He looked at the screen and handed it over. "Nice picture of Mia. I haven't seen her in that outfit before. When did you take it?"
My heart stopped. I didn't have any pictures of Mia on my phone. As I took the phone from him, the baby me smiled back at me. "Were you snooping on my phone?" My hands shook.
"Hey, sorry. Calm down." He took my hands in his. "Sorry. The picture was up when I grabbed it. I only took it so you couldn't sneak out on me." He flashed me a boyish, charming, apologetic smile.
I took a deep breath and forced a smile back, refusing to be a bitch about it. I believed him, but it was a close call. I slid the phone in my jeans and put a tease in my voice. "Would I sneak out on you?"
He looked me over and cocked a brow. "Going somewhere?"
"Not far, unless you take me."
"I promised I'd take you home. Give me a sec." As he slid out of bed, it was hard not to stare at him. He was so well built, firm and buff in all the right places.
I reached for my blouse.
He shook his head. "Don't change. I like the way you look in my shirt. Keep it." He headed to the bathroom.
The storm had blown over. The morning was clear and fresh. He drove me back to the dorm, swinging through a coffee stand drive-through and buying me a mocha and an apple cinnamon scone on the way. I sipped the mocha and picked at the scone on the drive.
When he pulled up to the dorm, there was an awkward moment when I didn't know what to say. I was lame at saying goodbye.
"I'll be in touch about Dad's Weekend plans. Keep the weekend open." He looked at me funny and brushed my lips with a feather-light touch. "Crumbs." He grinned. "See you, El."
I nodded and slid out of Logan's car with the cobblestone bars, not looking back as he drove away. I sneaked into the dorm, hoping no one saw me. Just my luck. Nic was headed to the shower, carrying her towel and shower caddy as she stumbled toward the bathroom. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. "Look who's doing the walk of shame."
"Shut up." I fell in step with her as we walked toward the bathroom and my room.
"And wearing a shacking shirt." She whistled. "Logan's? Nice."
"It's not a shacking shirt."
"Shacker, shacker, shacker. Did you spend the night with him? Judging from the stupid smile on your face, of course you did. That makes it an official shacking shirt. I want all the details."
I held the pan of cobblestone bars out for her to see. "I was making cookies. That's all the details there are."
"Isn't 'making cookies' code for sex?" she said.
We reached the bathroom.
"I have to shower or I'll be late to class. You can fill me in later." She wiggled her eyebrows lecherously.
I had to hurry, too, or I'd miss chem lab. And that would be catastrophic. Dex would kill me. When I let myself into my room, Bre was already up.
"Oooooh!" Her gaze ran up and down me wearing Logan's old rec league baseball T-shirt. "You little shacker, you."
I shook my head. "Not you too."
"Who else has seen you?"
"Nic."
"We're all going to want the details."
"I made cookies. We slept." But I couldn't stop grinning. "Those are all the details, period."
"Shy, are we? We have ways of making you talk." She let loose the witch's cackle she'd been practicing to go with her sexy witch's costume.
Chapter Thirteen
I barely had time to shower before chem lab, let alone do my hair and makeup. The only extra time I took, I folded my shacker shirt and put it in my drawer with my T-shirts and tanks. The shirt smelled like Logan—his cologne, his soap, his bed—and I vowed never to wash it. I was hoping it would perfume my whole wardrobe with the scent of him forever.
I ran back from lab and fixed up before I went to see Byron—like, extra fixed up. I even put on a half-row of fake eyelashes to give my eyes that sexy siren look. And painted a row of eyeliner that Marilyn Monroe would have envied. And sexy red lips with a dot of light gloss in the middle to make them look lush and full. Having learned from the master, I knew all the tricks. Maybe it was overkill. Maybe I was being too obvious, but I wasn't leaving anything to chance.
I artfully arranged a selection of the best cobblestone bars on a plastic fake silver tray I'd bought at the dollar store. Then I wrapped it in plastic wrap and tied a silver bow around it with curling ribbon. I grabbed the plastic fake silver cake server, also from the dollar store, and put it in a bag. And then it was show time. I headed to the chem building with my heart pounding.
Byron's office was in the middle of the second floor, far enough away from the dean's office and the admins that I reached it without being seen by any of them. I breathed a sigh of relief that the lab surrounding his cubicle was empty. There were often students making up lab experiments they'd missed or other TAs working milling about, working on projects.
I peeked over the wall of his cubicle. Byron was head-down working. I balanced my showy platter of cobblestone bars on one hand like a waiter in a fancy restaurant and held it in the door to the cubicle. "Ta-da!"
Byron startled and looked up, blushing when he spotted me peeking around the corner. "What's this?"
"I did it!" I slid into the cube, crossing my fingers no one came into the lab, and hoping and looking for an opportunity to get to the window. The windows opened up. Dex had reminded me it had an old-fashioned latch in the center. All I had to do was turn the latch so it didn't catch. If I could I should open it the tiniest bit so he'd have a hold to pry it up.
"I can't wait for you to try them!" I sauntered into the cube and made a show of placing them on the desk before him, pulling the cake server out of the bag with a flourish, along with a matching small silver plastic plate and fork.
"Wow! Fancy."
"Presentation is everything. Isn't that what you tell us about lab write-ups?"
He grinned and his face became blotchy with darker patches of red. "These look fabulous. You're confident you got it right?"
>
I grinned. "I'd bet a quiz grade on it."
"Whoa! That's a stiff bet."
"Open it, open it, open it!" I bounced on the balls of my feet and clapped my hands softly. I had to remind myself not to overdo it.
I watched as he untied the silver ribbon and pulled the plastic wrap back.
He took a deep sniff. "They smell good."
I came over to his side of the desk. Standing close enough to rattle him, I put my hand on his shoulder as I leaned over him and served him a piece, setting the fork on the plate next to it.
He picked up the fork.
I had to resist the urge to cross my fingers behind me. "Wait!"
He paused.
"I forgot milk. You can't try them without milk." I knew Byron always kept a carton of milk in the lab fridge along with various experiments. It was part of the custom for him to get it to drink with my cobblestone bar experiments.
"You're absolutely right."
I stepped out of the way. He pushed back, jumped up, and dashed into the lab to get his milk.
Was I devious or what?
I grabbed a napkin, looked around nervously, and dashed to the window while Byron's back was turned. Holding the napkin so I wouldn't leave any prints, I tried the latch. It stuck and I panicked. It was clear no one had opened the window in a long time. My palms were sweating as I forced it. It came loose as I heard the refrigerator door fall shut.
I swallowed hard, gave the window a good tug, and sighed with relief when it opened a fraction of an inch without screeching to alert the whole lab. I slid it back down so it was almost imperceptibly open as I hear Byron's footsteps approaching. I swung around and leaned against the windowsill, smiling at him encouragingly as he walked in.
"Got it!" He beamed as he held up the milk.
I pulled his chair out for him like he was a king. And watched with exaggerated anticipation on my face as he dug into the nicely plated cookie bar and took a bite.
"Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmmm. Mmmmmmm. These are delicious!" He made the coveted okay sign. "You did it! These are better than the dining hall's!"
I squealed and leaned over, hugging him from behind. Even his neck was bright red. "Take another bite," I whispered in his ear like Eve.
When I left the lab, I texted Dex the prearranged code. Had a great chem tutoring session. Eager to share.
I met Dex, Joe, and Kirk in front of the chem building parking garage just before two a.m. We'd all dressed in black. I was carrying pepper spray in case I ran into trouble.
We didn't speak as we climbed over the security gates and made our way to the second floor. Earlier, Kirk had pinched a ladder from a maintenance closet in his dorm. He delivered and hid it in the garage. They planned to stretch it across the gap to Byron's window. It was my job to pull it out of sight if anyone happened by. After our caper, Kirk would return it to the closet where it had hopefully gone unnoticed as missing.
Fortunately, the glow from a nearby streetlight cast enough illumination around us so we could see, but could still hide in the shadows.
As Kirk and Joe maneuvered the ladder into place, Dex handed me a walkie-talkie. "You left your cell phone at home?"
I nodded. Dex didn't want any evidence we'd been in the garage. Cell phones could be tracked. Paranoid, maybe. But none of us wanted to get in trouble.
"Good." He pointed to the military-grade walkie-talkie. "It's preset to a secure channel." He showed me how to work it and made me take a practice run with it. "Only use it if someone's approaching and we're in trouble. If all goes well, we shouldn't be in there more than twenty minutes to a half-hour."
"And if you don't come back?"
"Thinking of contingency plans." He tapped his head. "Good thinking. If we're not back in an hour, call campus security and report a break-in." He paused. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"The ladder's ready." Joe stood back to let Dex inspect it.
Joe had balanced it on the ledge outside Byron's window and anchored it on our side by tying it to the parking barricade.
Dex made a show of pushing on it to see if it was secure. "Let's go."
I held my breath as Dex climbed across with his backpack slung over both shoulders and tried the window, crossing my fingers no one fell and that the window opened. Wiry Dex climbed across like an acrobat. He was stringy, but strong.
Even so, he cursed as he struggled with the window. "I thought you unlocked this."
I tried not to panic. "I did. I even opened it a few millimeters. Maybe he noticed and relocked it."
Just then it gave way and Dex climbed in. The other two guys followed, leaving me as a lonely lookout. It was October and a slow ground fog was building. Dry branches and leaves rattled eerily against the building. I jumped at everything, wishing I was inside and knowing I couldn't leave my post. A car drove by on the road beyond the building, music blaring. I ducked, huddling in the shadows against the wall, imagining all kinds of horrors as time ticked by agonizingly slowly. It gave me way too much time to finally think through the consequences of this insane prank.
At last, I heard whispering and the ladder groaned and scraped against the concrete wall. Joe, then Kirk, appeared and climbed across. Dex came out and shut the window before working his way across the ladder. Joe and Kirk immediately began taking the ladder down.
My heart hammered in my ears. Dex wore a grim expression I could see even in the dim lighting.
"What's wrong?" My heart hammered wildly. This was a better scare than any haunted house I'd ever been to. But I didn't plan on ever repeating it. "What happened? Did something go wrong?"
Joe and Kirk, on the other hand were exuberant.
"Went off without a hitch! Perfect. Tomorrow when that bitch turns on that damn projector, she's going to get the surprise of her life," Joe said.
Kirk nodded.
I turned to Dex and frowned. "You don't agree?"
He looked at me blankly. "Everything went according to plan. Now let's get out of here. Everyone get a good night's sleep. Drink an energy drink before class if you have to, but you're all under orders not to look sleepy in class. We don't want anything giving us away."
I argued with him. "Not looking sleepy will give us away. No one looks perky in chem. I always bring a cup of coffee to keep me awake."
He didn't argue as he waved at us to follow him and Kirk and Joe grabbed the ladder. I didn't understand Dex's mood. But it worried me. If he cracked…
I arrived for the chem lecture full of anticipation and fear. Lately, those two opposite emotions had become my constant companions. I never had one without the other. It was like I was living the first day in a new situation every day. I carried my coffee and took my usual seat next to Dex, yawning for show. I loved my seat. It was right behind a speaker box that made a perfect coffee table. I set my cup on it.
"Late night?" he said, heavy on the sarcasm.
"I had a lot of homework that kept me up." I dropped my backpack at my feet and pulled my notebook out.
Going to the lecture was basically an exercise in futility. You could learn everything you needed to know by studying the notes online. Not that any amount of studying seemed to make a difference in that class. Everyone would have skipped, except Dr. Rogers took attendance and docked points for not being in class.
Using my i>clicker, I logged in as present.
The room filled up. The bell rang. Dr. Rogers took her place at her podium, the projector next to her, ready to be turned on. Usually, she fired it up first thing. Today, however, she turned on her laptop and began lecturing from PowerPoint.
Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. Had she somehow gotten wind of what we'd done? What if she didn't use the projector all lecture? What if it went off for the next professor who used it?
Beside me, Dex sat stiffly, his expression masked. Every time she even glanced at the projector, I braced myself. I almost cracked and left, unable to stand the tension—would she or wouldn't she?
Dr. Rogers flipped
through PowerPoint slides at breakneck speed, her voice grating on my already frayed nerves as my heart thudded in my ears. All that risk for nothing. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Just when I'd given up hope of her working equations on the rolling transparency projector, she reached over and flipped it on so suddenly just the action startled me.
There was a flash of light. A pop and bang. A puff of smoke.
Dr. Rogers screamed and jumped back. The audience, including me, did a collective start, jumping in their seats at the crack of the firecracker. They gasped as one. Some people ducked. Others jumped up and headed for the exits like we were under attack. The rest quickly realized this was nothing more than a prank and started to laugh. Then they grabbed their gear to head out. Lecture was clearly over.
Dr. Rogers waved her hand in front of her, trying to clear the smoke. She screamed into the mic. "I've been sabotaged! Get back in your seats! No one is leaving my lecture until the culprit who devised this Halloweek prank is caught or confesses." She coughed and kept waving at the smoke as she grabbed her cell phone and dialed.
She was usually unattractive. With her face red and pinched with anger and contorted from screaming, she was the perfect picture of a Halloween witch.
We were braced for this reaction based on the reaction Dex's dad's professor had had and our knowledge of the bitch Dr. Rogers. We had a pact—no one confesses. We were sitting in an audience with nearly five hundred equally valid suspects. It was the perfect crime. She couldn't hold us forever. We could hear her talking to campus security over her mic.
Beside me, Dex slowly slid his notebook into his backpack. I took a sip of my coffee. Around us, the auditorium buzzed with speculation and praise for the geniuses behind the prank.
"Who do you think did it?" I asked Dex, keeping up pretenses and blending in.
"I dunno. But who ever they are, they deserve a medal. I'd like to buy them a beer."
As campus security streamed in, Rogers called IT services. I perked up, listening to her scream at Jason, demanding his best tech, demanding Logan. Now.
I couldn't hear Jason's side, but it was clear he was negotiating with her.