Reckless Longing Read online

  "Things in the office will calm down soon. You're going to love working with us. Jason is an awesome boss."

  Logan had just given me the opening I was looking for. "Tell me about Jason."

  "Tell you what?"

  "All the important political stuff—how to get on his good side. What pitfalls to avoid. Who his enemies are. Who his friends are. Which profs and departments should get priority attention. You know, the basics."

  "Why are you asking me?" He pulled an onion out of his burger and set it aside.

  "Because you're obviously his favorite. Even Karen says so."

  "She does?" His eyes danced and he wore an innocent look, pretending like he had no idea when he knew full well he was.

  "Seriously, anything you'd like to warn me about?"

  "Just do your job. If you have any problems or questions, bring them to Jason before things get out of hand."

  "That's it? That's all the wisdom you're going to impart?"

  "He's a straightforward kind of guy. His office is always open." He paused. "If you insist on getting brownie points, he's a sucker for homemade brownies. And chocolate donuts from Daylight Donuts at the bottom of the hill on Grand."

  "No wife to bake him brownies?" My heart pounded.

  "She's not much of a cook."

  So he was married. I had a stepmom. I tried not to let either excitement or shock show as I wondered what she was like.

  "She's a prof and pretty busy with her job and their baby girl," Logan said. "No time for baking."

  My heart went into free fall. My dad had a baby girl. I had a sister, a baby sister. I swallowed hard, trying to stay composed while an emotional storm waged within me. "Just one kid?" My voice came out more as a squeak than anything else. I cleared my throat to cover.

  "Yeah."

  "Is she cute?"

  He looked at me funny and I realized I'd pressed too far. "Yeah, real cute. Four months old. Why?"

  Of course she was cute. All babies were cute, especially in their parents' eyes. How was a nineteen, almost twenty-year-old, like me going to compete with a baby? Not that I was intending to compete, but this seemed like both a wonderful revelation and a setback all at the same. Suddenly I just knew I had to find a way to meet my sister, too.

  "No reason," I said, trying to sound casual while my heart beat out of control. "Just curious. He's a good-looking guy, of course his baby's cute." That was a little vain of me, but Logan couldn't know that.

  "Don't get a crush on the boss," he said, with a touch of jealousy in his tone.

  I laughed nervously and shook my head vigorously. "Don't be ridiculous! He's old enough to be my dad." And, in fact, he was.

  Logan relaxed. "Enough office chitchat. Tell me everything about yourself."

  "Everything? No way. It's best to keep a little mystery in a relationship." I tried to sound flippant. But in truth, I couldn't afford to tell Logan much about myself for fear I'd let something slip that might tip off my relationship to Jason.

  "I hold your hand during one piercing and we're in a relationship? You move fast. Most guys would be scared off by that." He was obviously teasing. "Good thing I'm not most guys."

  Even so, my pulse raced. "You're deliberately misinterpreting me. Of course we're in a relationship. We're colleagues, aren't we?"

  "Sure, officemate. Of course we are. Now, spill some deets about yourself. At least give me the basics."

  "You already know my name," I said. "And my rank in the office—peon. Will you settle for my student ID number in lieu of a serial number?"

  "Safety precaution tip—don't put out your student ID for anyone, El. No matter how handsome he is. In the wrong hands, someone could do irreparable damage with it. If you insist on giving me digits, I want your phone number."

  "Wow," I said. "That has to be the most creative way a guy has asked for my number yet."

  He shrugged, totally adorably, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "I'm a creative guy. Smooth with the ladies."

  "Right. Keep talking and I'll have to come up with an equally creative way of shutting you down."

  "Come on, El. We're working together. We don't want another almost mishap when we've scheduled one of these after-work socials. We should definitely exchange numbers."

  He had a point. And I was totally weak-minded around him. I whipped out my phone and exchanged numbers. As I was slipping it back in my pocket, he put his phone away, too.

  He took another a bite of burger and washed it down with a big gulp of pop, somehow managing to eat while stay intently focused on me. "So. What's your major?"

  "You get my number and then revert to basic party small talk?" I asked.

  "Yeah. I believe in getting the awkward basics out of the way early on. It makes for better office camaraderie."

  "Management information services with a bio chem minor. You?"

  He whistled. "Interesting combination of major and minor. A bachelor of arts combined with a science minor."

  "What can I say?" I mimicked him. "I'm an interesting girl." I laughed, hardly able to believe I was having such a good time with him. "But seriously, I'd like to work in the medical or biotech industries."

  "Makes sense." He nodded. "I'm computer science and engineering."

  I nodded back. "The way Jason fawned over you, I figured you might be. But, if you don't mind me saying so, you don't look like your typical engineer."

  He laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

  "Good. Because it was."

  His face lit up and I realized my mistake. I couldn't believe I was actually sort of flirting with him.

  "And you're a…freshman?"

  "Transfer student. It's my second year out of high school, but I have junior standing."

  He looked relieved that I wasn't a full-on baby freshman. "I'm a senior."

  I nodded like an idiot.

  "What did you think of your first day of classes here?"

  I gave him a quick rundown. "But Chem 202 with Dr. Rhonda Rogers is going to be a bitch. That woman has arrogance and ice running through her veins."

  It may have been my imagination but I thought Logan paled at the mention of her name.

  He balled up the empty wrapper from his burger and tossed it into the red plastic basket in front of him with enough force to indicate venom. "Get out of her class, Ellie. Get out now."

  "I take it you've taken a class from her. Her vile reputation precedes her." I sighed. "I'd get out if I could. Believe me. But it's the only section offered and I need it before I can take any other classes in my minor. I have to take it. I have no choice. Don't worry—I have a study group and a survival plan. Anything to protect the GPA and my academic scholarship."

  His Adam's apple bobbed. "Be careful, El. She's a vindictive bitch."

  Chapter Five

  Even though I protested, Logan walked me back to my dorm. It may have been simply a ploy to find out where I lived, but it made me way happier than it should have. Just like everything about him did.

  I paused at the foot of the front steps. "I think I can make it in safely from here. Thanks for walking me back."

  "Yeah, sure." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and hesitated.

  I had to make it clear we couldn't be more than friends. I started up the stairs. "I'll see you Wednesday."

  "El?"

  I halted and turned to look back at him over my shoulder.

  "Why did you run out on me without giving me your last name at Up All Night?" His tone was neutral—not accusing, but curious. I was sure he wasn't used to girls running out on him.

  I froze. I'd been hoping that question wouldn't come up. I took a deep breath and tried to sound light. "Would you believe I have a Cinderella complex? She was always my favorite princess."

  He stared at me and nodded. "You want a prince who will do anything to find you? Or your clothes were going to turn into rags at midnight?"

  I turned to face him. "I was wearing a crop top and shorts." I laughed.
"Every girl wants a prince." My tone became serious. "I'm just not sure I believe in them."

  He took a minute to digest that. "Fair enough. My friend Collin's having a party on Friday. You should come."

  "Maybe."

  "You have other plans?"

  "Maybe."

  "It's casual. Just drop by. Bring a few of your girlfriends. Collin won't mind. He'll be thrilled."

  "We'll see." I started up the stairs again.

  "We'll discuss it Wednesday."

  "Goodbye, Logan."

  Tuesday I had chem lab with Dex. Since we were study buddies, it made sense to be lab partners, too. Which was fine with me. I didn't know anyone else and he seemed to know his way around a Bunsen burner well enough. It was a match made in academic heaven.

  Our lab TA was a skinny, nerdy graduate student named Byron who had an acne problem and the scars to prove it—psychologically as well as physically or I missed my guess. Dex sized Byron up with the intensity of a commander looking to exploit his enemy's weakness. Dex made no bones about being a warrior when it came to maintaining his GPA.

  "Here's the deal," he whispered to me on the sly as we opened our lab notebooks and set up the experiment. "If we run into trouble, or need help or supplies, you're our go-to girl. Byron's been watching you. He blushes every time he looks this way. I'd be willing to bet he doesn't get much attention from the ladies, certainly not from hot ones."

  I probably should have taken being lumped into the "hot girl" category as a compliment, but Dex continued without a pause.

  "On the other hand, he looks right through me and the other guys in the class. It's clear he's looking for a girl. And right now, we're in luck—you've caught his eye."

  I rolled my eyes. Yeah that was real lucky.

  "He'll give you more than our share of attention. Play things right and you'll have him wrapped around your little finger. You'll be his favorite." Dex's gaze swept over my cargo capris and T-shirt.

  I was slumming it for chem lab. Why take the chance of ruining something cute?

  "Next week wear something sexier."

  "Hey! Are you totally sexist or what?"

  Dex shrugged and locked a test tube into a clamp stand. "Realistic, baby. I came into this lab willing to do my part to play up to the TA, pimp myself out if necessary. Invite the guy out for a beer and pick up the tab. But it's clear you're our best shot." He grinned. "You don't think I picked you for your brains?"

  "Shut up!" I made narrow, angry eyes at him, even though he was clearly ribbing me and trying to get a rise out of me. "I'm here on a full-tuition regents' academic scholarship, wiseass."

  He laughed. "I'm here on a full-ride academic scholarship—tuition, books, housing. I have so much in scholarships, they're paying me to attend. I'm making a nice profit out of this deal. I refuse to lose a single penny because of a douchebag lady prof with a stick up her ass." He paused.

  I wasn't backing down. You can't take crap from guys like him. They lose all respect if you don't fire back. "Had a lot of financial need, huh?"

  He full-out smiled. "Nice try. I didn't qualify for a dime. My dad's loaded." He glanced across the room to where Byron was helping two girls weigh their chemical compound. "Woof. You can outdo those two. Easy. If you put a little effort in. They're clearly trying to make inroads first. Now—do you want to pass chemistry? Or am I going to have to partner with those two?" He gave a mock shudder.

  I actually laughed. "All right, I'm in. But only for a little in-class flirting."

  "Why? Do you have a big, jealous boyfriend?"

  My turn to shrug. "Maybe." Like I told Logan, it's always good to keep some mystery in a relationship, especially if it gives you a measure of power.

  Dex stared at me like he could get the truth, or at least more information, out of me. Good luck with that, buddy.

  Finally, he gave up. "Our lab grade counts for twenty-five percent of our total class grade. We have to make sure it's one hundred percent to balance out what are sure to be less-than-fantastic test scores."

  "I thought you're the great brain," I said.

  "I am. I'd be completely confident if life, and Dr. Rogers, were fair.

  "Last semester, Dr. Rogers gave one A- out of five hundred students. No A's. A couple of B+'s, a sea of C's and D's, and quite a few fails. Not exactly your normal Gaussian distribution and grade bell curve. This semester Dr. Rogers is even more of a dirty wildcard than usual. She always likes to stick it to students and see them sweat, but now she's on a regular vendetta."

  He leaned in even closer and whispered directly in my ear. "I did a little more digging. She's getting too many student complaints for the administration to continue to ignore. Her ass is in the sling now. She's out to make a point."

  "Doesn't she have tenure?" I asked, which would protect her no matter what she'd done.

  "Are you kidding?" Dex said. "If she had tenure she would have thrown it in our faces with all the rest of the 'stellar' credentials she threw in our faces yesterday. But it doesn't matter whether she does or doesn't.

  "First rule of surviving the cutthroat world of business—there are always ways to put people out to pasture. Even tenured professors, if the university wants to badly enough.

  "I heard she's in danger of losing a chunk of her funding. Several big donor alums are unhappy. She's giving the department a bad rep." He nodded sagely. "Which makes her like a mama bear protecting her cub. Her research projects are her babies. Without them, she's nothing. That makes her even more unpredictable this semester. She's not the type to back down."

  I gave him a wide-eyed, I can't believe our bad luck look.

  "Yeah. She's dangerous. We're going to play this like world-class chess match—thinking several steps ahead.

  "Right now, our first move is to ace this lab. Besides boosting our class GPA, doing well in here where she's not directly in charge will show that it's not the subject matter or our IQ that's the problem. It's the instructor. With luck, we'll be the class to put the final nail in her coffin."

  Dex fiddled with the test tube he'd fastened into the clamp. Before I could stop it, it "accidentally" slipped free, rolled across the lab bench, and crashed to the floor, shattering and getting everyone's attention, including Byron's.

  "Take that, bitches. Compete with that and my girl Ellie." Dex made a point of staring at the broken glass with decently convincing feigned horror. Beneath his breath, he whispered. "Smile prettily when you ask Byron for a broom and a new test tube. He's on his way now."

  I scowled at Dex. "That comes out of your lab deposit."

  "My pleasure. Do your job and it will be worth every penny."

  The two hours of lab passed in a blur of chemicals and frustration as Dex ordered me around. I've never been good at precise measurements and titrating, or taking orders. Dex, however, was a natural at all of it. He could tell by looking at the gunk in our test tube what elements it contained, what color it would change to, and how bad it would smell when he heated it up. I had chosen wisely when I agreed to bake for him.

  "What I don't know, we can dry lab," Dex said. "I'm damn good at that, too."

  And I was a decent flirt when I tried, particularly if I wasn't interested in the guy. Having no fear of rejection or dashed hopes took the pressure off me. I took it easy on Byron because I sympathized with him. I just wanted help with chemistry and a good lab grade. I had no desire to mess him up and break his heart like mine was. It was a delicate balance to strike. A normal guy would have seen what I was up to and simply enjoyed the attention and fun. But blushing Byron was a wildcard.

  "Tomorrow. Study group. The science library at eight," Dex said as we walked out of the chem building. "We'll group and plan our strategy."

  "And study."

  "Yeah, that too." Dex paused and cleared his throat. "That was some damn fine flirting in there."

  "Thank you."

  "Keep it up and do your research. Look Byron up on Facebook and see what winds his clock."
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  "You never stop, do you?" I shook my head. "I'm not going to Facebook stalk Byron."

  "Don't act indignant. Everyone does it."

  My backpack was sliding off my shoulder. I hoisted it back up. "Leave the flirting to me. A guy like Byron is easily scared off. We have to proceed with caution."

  "You're so wrong about guys, Ellie. A nerd like Byron will lap up any attention you give him and eat out of your hand if you let him. It's not possible to scare him off."

  I got the feeling Dex was speaking from experience.

  "You're not helping. I'm not into breaking guys' hearts."

  "Don't go soft on me, Ellie. Believe me, nerdy guys fight to be TAs precisely because of the female attention they expect from girls that are way out of their league. Let him have his day and his fantasies."

  Dex winked and ran off to his next class as I headed back to the dorm for lunch. As I walked, I checked my phone. I don't know what I was expecting. Oh, wait! I lied. I knew exactly what I was irrationally hoping for—a text from Logan. He'd seemed so into me and then he didn't have the courtesy to text me? What was up with that? He was sending incredibly confusing signals and I was direly insecure about everything from my looks to my ability to attract a guy like him. I'd inadvertently laid down the gauntlet with that "prince" comment. I'd been hoping against reason he was the kind of guy who didn't back down from a challenge.

  When my phone buzzed in my hand, I jumped and smiled. Until I read who the text was from. Austin.

  The phone trembled in my hand. I brushed a tear away, hating that he still had the power to shake me up. Give yourself a year, El. Treat yourself nice; don't beat yourself up. Don't let him kill your self-esteem. I repeated these mantras whenever I felt panicked that I'd cave and talk to him, or the gut-wrenching anxiety welled up, blaming me for being stupid and naïve. If I'd been hot enough, funny enough, engaging enough, would he have cheated in the first place?

  I deleted the text unread, wishing there as a way to block his number for good. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

  I believe in forgiveness. I really do. But in my book, forgiving doesn't erase the consequences of the other person's action. Austin cheated on me, in the worst possible way. I wasn't going to give him another shot at my heart. Ever. Which meant I had to harden it against him or I'd do something stupid, like blame just her for the whole thing and give him a pass. And talk myself into something destructive like taking him back so I could throw it in her face.