Break Your Heart (19 page)

He shook his head slowly, a sexy, crooked grin on his face. “I’m good, thank you.”

Twenty minutes later, when I went back to Nick’s table, his plate was empty and his napkin was balled up beside it.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked.

“It’s on me.” When he opened his mouth to protest, I continued, “Seriously, just say thank you and move on.”

His laugh was hearty. “Then thank you, Megan. I enjoyed the meal very much.” He stood and looked down at me. Leaned his head just a fraction and whispered, “Check the napkin.”

With that, he left, the door announcing his departure.

The air that had been locked in my lungs due to our proximity whooshed out. I grabbed the napkin and tucked it in my apron. Hustling to the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, then smoothed the rumpled paper out. A code. Shoulda known.

With a wild grin on my face, I grabbed my pen and began working on it. This wasn’t the same code we’d been using, so after a few minutes I had to stuff it back in my apron and finish my shift. In the meantime, my brain was working hard at trying to decipher his message.

I tested a few different patterns. The thing I’d learned about code breaking was that it required patience, diligence, thoroughness. In between serving customers, I tried substituting letters in multiple ways.

Then out of nowhere, the pattern just . . . clicked. The vowel substitutions were my first indicator I was on the right path. I almost dropped the plates I’d bused in excitement. Brought them to the kitchen, then whipped out the napkin and gave it a shot.

 

 

Oh God. My lungs squeezed so tight it was hard to inhale. Was he asking me to stay the night with him? This would be a big first for us. Funny how I wasn’t afraid though—of falling for him, of trusting him, of giving him my heart.

How could I be afraid of something I wanted so badly I could taste it?

O
n Wednesday morning, I rushed into class and dropped into my seat with a winded sigh. Thankfully, Nick wasn’t there yet, so I wasn’t technically “late.”

“Oh shit, I overslept,” I told Kelly with a breathless laugh. “I can’t remember the last time I did that.” I’d stayed up late last night working on a paper for my psych class. Since I’d been spending most of my free time with Nick during the school week, I’d spent yesterday doing nothing but schoolwork.

He must have been really busy too, because I hadn’t heard from him all day yesterday. Which made me all the more eager to see his smiling face this morning.

“I’m so ready for spring break next week,” she said. “This semester has been stupidly long.”

Nick and I hadn’t made any spring break plans. I was on the schedule to get some good work hours in at the sandwich shop. But I hoped he would be free and wanted to hang out some.

Maybe do another sleepover.

When I’d come home yesterday morning from a night of amazing, intimate sex on Monday night, I was floating on cloud nine. Nick was vital to my life now. I found myself thinking about him all the time. Wondering what he was doing. Wondering if he thought about me half as much.

I dug my notebook out and grabbed a pen, ready to take notes. But my mind wandered a little. Maybe I should ask him to do something with me for spring break. Leave some kind of a coded note for him.

My thoughts were interrupted when Nick came into the room, wearing a dark blue dress shirt and black dress pants. As usual, my breath hitched in my throat at the sight of him. God, he was ridiculously hot. I couldn’t help but remember the feel of his hands clutching my hips Monday night as he drove into me, said my name over and over again.

Nick sorted out his stuff and cleared his throat, eyeing the classroom. His face was all lines of tension, and I noticed he didn’t look at me.

My heart gave a funny twinge.

“Okay, let’s get going on this chapter. Everyone read, right?” He gave a tight smile.

“Is he okay?” Kelly whispered so low I could barely hear her. “Did you two have a fight or something? He seems pissed off.”

I shook my head, unable to speak. My heart jumped like a wild bird in my chest. What was going on? I stared at Nick, willing him to look at me. Anything to ease this ache settling in me.

Nothing.

The class period dragged on as I did my best to take notes and pretend I was like every other student in there . . . just eager to finish the week and move on to spring break. But I wasn’t. No, my mind was going back through Monday night. Wondering if something had happened then that I hadn’t recognized at the time.

He was the one who’d invited me to stay with him. Surely he wasn’t pissed about it now, was he? Had I said or done something that had offended him?

Yesterday I’d been studying, too busy to talk with him. But he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d hold a grudge for that. In fact, he hadn’t reached out to me once.

The anxiety of not knowing was eating away at my stomach.

Nick finally dismissed us. I faltered for a moment, wondering if it would be too obvious if I rushed him at the front of the classroom. But before I could do more than rise out of my seat, he’d already gathered his stuff and left.

Pain, swift and sharp and hard, pierced my chest in an almost physical puncture. I blinked back the tears threatening to spill. I was confused, hurt, angry. What had I done to deserve being shut out like this?

My fingers shook as I gathered my stuff, coat draped over my forearm, and ran down the aisle, into the hall. But Nick wasn’t there. I just stared into the crowd of students milling through the hallway.

“Hey, you okay?” Kelly said, coming up beside me. She rested her palm on my upper back and made smooth stroking motions.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I managed to say. I sniffed hard and stiffened my face so as not to show the agony coursing through me. I felt abandoned, shut out. This wasn’t like him—he wasn’t one to do something this harsh.

Was he?

Did I really know him as well as I thought?

“I don’t wanna push you,” she said gently. “But if you need to talk, just holler. I’m here for you.”

I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a shaky hug. “Thanks. I don’t know what’s happening, but I will find out.” When she left my side, I grabbed my phone and composed a text to him.

Then I made a halfhearted attempt to study for the next couple of hours until my second class of the day. The silence from my phone, tucked safely in my pocket, ate away at me until it was almost all I could think about.

But I refused to send him another message. He was the one pulling away, so he had damn well better explain what was going on. If this involved me or if it didn’t . . . though I couldn’t imagine why he’d freeze me so hard-core if I had nothing to do with the issue.

Of course, my brain wouldn’t stop manufacturing scenarios.

That he’d realized he didn’t love me the way I loved him and was struggling with how to end it before my heart was too broken.

That someone had told him party gossip about me that tainted the way he viewed me.

That someone had spotted us out together and he was avoiding me now.

That I really was just a piece of ass and nothing more.

I couldn’t accept any of those possibilities though. Not until I heard the truth. Right now, all I had were the speculations of my confused, uninformed mind. But I wasn’t going to beg him to tell me. Sheer stubborn pride wouldn’t let me be reduced to that, no matter how much this was killing me.

My phone vibrated near the end of class. I made myself wait until it was over and I was on my way home before I checked it.

A text from him with four ominous words.

I exhaled and looked up at the gray sky. The clouds loomed right overhead, filling the entire expanse above me. No sunshine. No break from the monotony.

He was going to break up with me. I could sense it. I didn’t know what had happened between us, if it was me or him, but there was only one reason he’d text that to me.

It was hard to keep my hand trembles under control, but I managed to type,
I’ll come by tonight.
I put my phone away, gripped my bag and walked home. My heart was cramping in nervous anticipation, but I wouldn’t let myself give in to it.

I swiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and rang Nick’s doorbell. A dog bark greeted me, and then the door opened, Gloria’s head poking out first, tongue lolling. I bent down to pet her on the head, then rose and faced Nick.

He had a glass in one hand, half filled with a deep amber liquid. The collar of his shirt was undone. His eyes were hooded; I couldn’t read him. “Come in,” he said, then backed away and opened the door wider for me.

My pulse jackhammered in my throat and at my temples as I stepped inside and stripped off my coat. I hung it up and followed him into the living room. Perched on the edge of his tan couch.

“Can I get you a drink?” He sounded so polite, so formal, so distant. Was it really just two nights ago we were here on this very couch, writhing against each other with naked, sweat-slicked bodies? Now it was as if we were total strangers.

I shook my head and rested my hands in my lap. Sat there quietly, though it was so hard to do so. I knew the answers would have to come from him though.

Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He took a swig of his drink and then sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. There was a slight smirk on his face—he was drunk, that much was obvious.

My jaw tightened at the devil-may-care flare in his eyes. Was he playing a game here? Was this funny to him? Because I sure as hell wasn’t amused. I felt like I was being jerked around. “What is going on with you?” I finally blurted out.

He didn’t move, just swirled the drink in the cup, eyes fixed on the sloshing liquid. “I got called into a meeting yesterday.” His words were slow and purposeful. “With the dean and others on the tenure hiring committee.”

I struggled to keep breathing evenly. My hands tightened on my knees.

“They knew about us.” He took another big drink. Still wouldn’t look at me, but his voice carried multiple layers of emotions. “They didn’t have any physical proof that they could present to me when I asked them to, but my tenure track position is on the line anyway. I was explicitly told I’m being watched. And if I do anything that will sully my reputation—or that of the school—I can kiss it good-bye.”

I took a moment to digest what he said. “Okay, that’s terrible. I’m sorry. But . . . even if you don’t get tenure, can’t you just keep teaching—”

“If I don’t get tenure, the school lets me go. I’ll be canned.” This was delivered matter-of-factly, but the impact still hit me like a knife in the gut.

He was going to lose his job over this thing with us.

“Are you serious? How is that even fair?”

“That’s the risk you take when you look for a tenure-track job.” He took another draw from the glass, then set it on the coffee table and leaned forward. Rested his forearms on his thighs. Finally he looked over at me, and I could see a hint of red in the whites of his eyes, the bleariness in his gaze. He’d definitely been drinking for a while.

Could I blame him though?

No wonder he’d been so weird in class earlier. He’d been stewing in this for two days now.

“I’m so sorry,” I managed to say.

He glanced away. “This was my fault, not yours.”

“We’re both involved here, not just you. I carry equal blame.” I crossed my arms over my chest and jutted my chin.

He gave a low snort and rolled his eyes. “And yet
I’m
carrying all of the consequences.”

I froze. Anger washed over me in a sweeping tide. “Seriously? You’re going to throw that in my face? You don’t think this has complicated my life any? I mean, yeah, my job isn’t at stake, but my reputation on campus is, not to mention my future at Smythe-Davis. Don’t you think a student could come forward and complain to the college that I slept my way into a decent grade in your class, even if that wasn’t true? Don’t you think that would get me booted from the grad school program? This isn’t just you.”

I couldn’t believe I had to even point that out to him.

Nick opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut. Nodded his head and raked his hands through his hair. The locks stood up in messy pieces. “Shit. I’m sorry. That wasn’t right of me to say. This isn’t just impacting me, I know.” He huffed a heavy sigh and sank his face in his hands. His whole body was slumped, defeated.

I’d never seen him like this before, and it broke me, my anger falling away. My heart throbbed in pain, and I bit my lower lip. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I was afraid.

After a moment, he shook his head and sat up in his chair. His eyes flashed with anger. “Who would have told about us, Megan?”

Oh God. Why hadn’t I thought of that part? Someone had alerted the hiring crew, the dean. I’d mentioned it to only two people, Kelly and Casey. Surely neither one of them would have said a word. Would they?

My stomach flipped over, and I pressed a hand to my mouth. Guilt surged hot and hard in me. Was this my fault? Had one of them slipped up and mentioned something to the wrong person?

Would Kelly have gone behind my back and addressed her concerns with the dean? She had been worried about me. But she didn’t seem any different today in class. It wasn’t just an act, was it?

I hated that this made me doubt the people around me.

I would get to the bottom of this. Find out who had told. But in the meantime, I couldn’t have him lose his livelihood over me. Getting canned for fraternization with a student would haunt him wherever he went. He’d be lucky to get part-time adjunct classes anywhere if that were to happen. I couldn’t be responsible for his whole life being turned upside down.

I knew what I had to do. My lungs were painfully tight, but I managed to say, “We need to stop seeing each other.”

He blinked, looked over at me. His eyes were ricocheting emotions left and right. I could almost see the thoughts crossing his mind. He swallowed, then turned his head away from me. A full minute of silence slipped by without either of us talking.

The weight of my words sagged in the air between us.

Okay, I was the one who’d suggested it, but the fact that he didn’t disagree or even put up a fight made my chest sink in on itself. Pride was the only thing gluing me together at this point. I wasn’t going to let him see how badly this hurt me.

I stood, grabbed my purse. “I gotta go.”

“Wait.” His hand snatched out to grip my forearm. His eyes were anguished as they locked on my face. “This feels . . .” He frowned and stood, peered down at me.