Flee (The Aurora Lockette Series, Book 1) (5 page)

I smiled, dropping my hand on top of his.

He seemed satisfied by my response. “Are you
ready to go in?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said.

We started the long walk to the entrance. He
leaned close to me as we approached the sidewalk lining the edge of
the campus. “I probably should keep this thought to myself, but you
look ridiculously sexy today. Did you wear that to torture me?”

I cleared my throat to give my now mushy
brain time to come up with a response. “Yeah, in the off chance you
would show up outside my door without warning.”

“Don’t do that again,” he spoke in my ear,
his breath stirring the baby hairs on my neck. He paused at the
junction of three sidewalks. One went to the law school, one went
to the parking lot, and one went to the other side of campus. “I
have two questions for you. Can you meet for lunch, and may I take
you out for dinner tonight?”

“Maybe, if I get all my reading done, and
yes.”

“Okay. I’ll take what I can get. I’ll be at
our Mexican place at 1:00 if you can make it.” He brushed some
stray hairs gently off my forehead before walking away.

Hot damn.

Once I made it to the classroom, I booted up
my computer and pulled out my civil procedure book while I waited
for Bree to arrive.

Gavyn’s name floated through the room. My
ears perked up.

Two girls were having a not so quiet
conversation a couple of rows in front of me. “I saw him yesterday,
can you believe it?” a blond I didn’t know said in an extra loud
voice.

“Oh, my God! I can’t believe you saw Gavyn
Dhaval. Where?” Liza asked. She had a strong, southern accent,
shining black hair, and lots of money, judging by her the $8,000
bag she had one tanned arm draped over. As far as trust fund babies
go, she was pretty darn nice.

“At the Alamo. They were filming a scene or
something in the courtyard right there in front of everyone.
Course, they had it blocked off so you couldn’t walk up, but you
could stand like twenty feet away.” She brought the back of her
hand to her forehead in a mock swoon. “He is super gorg! I wonder
if he’s single.”

“I’m sure he would make himself single if he
got a chance to meet you,” Liza said in her sweet way. “I heard he
was in the parking lot this morning with some girl.”

“Shut up! Who told you?”

“Dean texted me. Said he saw him on his way
in. Dean parks way out in the boonies because he’s paranoid about
his car getting a scratch.”

“Oh, wow!”

Bree slid in next to me and powered up her
laptop. “Phew. Almost late.” She had a sheen of sweat on her
forehead. “I had to hustle in from the parking lot.”

Professor Tolane was busy locking the doors,
which he did to ensure no latecomers came in. Of course, it counted
as an absence, and he would flunk any student with more than four
absences.

“What does he care if we are late? He still
earns his one-hundred fifty grand regardless, and we still pay our
$800 a freaking credit hour,” I said.

“I care because being on time is so very
important in the practice of law,” Professor Tolane said.

Great. I managed to comment right when he was
passing my desk to return to the front of the classroom to start
class.

“Attention, future counselors of law. Ms.
Lockette was just commenting on my late policy, which she appears
to have a problem with. So, Ms. Lockette, what will you say to the
judge when you run into a hearing ten minutes late? Please inform
the class of your argument.”

“I wouldn’t be late to a hearing.”

“Stand up please.”

I did.

“Again, let us say you were late to a hearing
or a trial. What would you say to the judge?”

I took a deep breath. “I would explain the
reason for my delay and apologize.”

“Uh huh. So, you would essentially say you
were sorry?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. Sorry doesn’t
represent your client who is paying you to handle their legal
affairs. Sorry won’t get you out of the severe tongue lashing and
order of contempt you will get from the judge. Sorry won’t cover
the legal consequences of your client losing a case because you
didn’t appear. And sorry will not cover the damage to your
reputation as a careless attorney who doesn’t respect a judge or
litigant’s time.”

He lowered his glasses to stare at me. I
wished I could melt into the floor and disappear from sight
forever.

“You may be seated.”

What an a-hole,
Bree typed on her
screen.

I think I hate law school,
I typed
back.

And I did.

***

At 12:50, I walked to the Mexican
restaurant. It wasn’t far, but I was kicking myself for wearing
heels.

I managed to make it there a few minutes
early. The parking lot was full of cars and the inside was packed
with local workers. For lunch, the restaurant had a $4.00 all you
can eat lunch buffet. I’d never seen a Mexican food buffet before,
but it looked mighty tasty and I could actually afford it.

I was loading up my oval black plate when he
appeared at my elbow.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he murmured.

I dropped the serving spoon I was using to
scoop the fruit salad onto my plate. It made a loud noise when it
rolled off the table and hit the floor.

“Your skirt is ridiculous. It makes it hard
for me to concentrate,” he said.

I continued loading my plate with different
foods, trying to appear nonchalant. “I’m glad you like it.” I
finally turned so I could see him, and damn, I was glad I did. He
was all movie star in a slick leather jacket and khakis. His
normally unruly hair had been smoothed into obedience. It hung
around his face, glossy and black. “You don’t look so bad
yourself.”

We sat down at an empty table. “I only have
fifteen minutes,” he said, “so I have to eat fast.”

“Go ahead and eat. I’m just glad I got to see
you.”

He looked up from his food with a serious
face. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He took a swig of water before he spoke
again. “What are you in the mood for at dinner?”

“I pretty much like everything. Maybe
Italian? But, you know, I’m open.”

“I can handle that. Do you want to hit up a
trendy place or are you more low key?”

“Low key. Like bottom floor low. I’m not one
of the cool kids.”

That made him smile. “Basement low it is.
I’ll be at your door at 7:30.”

“Sweet.”

We finished our food and stood to leave.
“Aurora.” He leaned close to me. I could smell his aftershave,
which was very nice. “Don’t wear your silly skirt tonight. It’s
very, very distracting and I’m trying to be gentleman.”

Heat uncurled in my belly. I watched him
leave the restaurant, all sinewy muscle and perfection.

Holy giant rhino balls.

I went back to school and sat through my
classes, but the rest of the day merged into a big giant blur.
Scary shadows forgotten, homework ignored. Finally, my last class
let out. I tugged on Bree’s arm while she was unloading her books
into her trunk. She’d agreed to give me a ride home.

“Come on, let’s go!”

“Simmer down, sweetheart. I’ll get you home
in time for your hot date.” She yanked her hand away and swatted my
hand. She shut the trunk and leaned against it. “I still can’t
believe he was waiting for you in the morning. I’d say it’s eighty
percent hot, twenty percent creepy.”

“Hot. Not creepy.” I grabbed her arm. “Let’s
go!”

She opened the driver’s door while I jumped
up and down outside the passenger door. “So, what are you
wearing?”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, crap! I
have no idea. What should I wear?”

“Wear your tight aqua blue tank with your
nice jeans. It will show off your toned shoulders and collarbone.
Your butt is always a big hit in tight jeans.”

“You’re the best stylist ever!”

She flicked imaginary lint off her shirt. “I
do what I can, young grasshopper.”

As soon as she dropped me off, I ran into my
apartment, stripped off my clothes, and jumped in the shower. I let
the warm water run over my body. It calmed me down and made me feel
whole again.

I put on the jeans and shirt Bree had
suggested. The shirt did set off my shoulders nicely. It was
fitted, but not tight. It skimmed over my bust, hinting at the
fullness without showing any cleavage. I added some coral blue
stone earrings and smiled at the effect.

I must admit, the blue made my skin look
creamy and smooth and set off my eyes just right. I added a bit of
eyeliner and mascara. I put on some lip-gloss and glanced at the
clock. It was then I remembered my apartment was tiny and dingy,
and right now it was a mess.

Crap. I darted around the small living room
and picked up the clothes that had accumulated over the week. I
dumped them into my closet before loading up my arms with coffee
mugs and water glasses littering my table. I shoved my textbooks
into one giant pile. It was a marginal improvement.

At precisely 7:30, there was a soft knock at
my door. After one more look at my humble surroundings, I opened
it. He was leaning against the doorframe, looking like he just
stepped out of a high-fashion ad. His hair was disheveled and wild.
He was wearing a t-shirt, a thin leather band around his wrist, and
black jeans. His gaze roamed up and down my body before meeting my
eyes.

He abruptly pushed past me and shut the door
behind him. He grabbed my wrists and pulled me close to him. When
our bodies collided, he dropped my wrists, put both of his hands on
my face, and kissed me. His hands moved gently down my shoulders
and arms then skimmed along the small of my back. He paused there,
then wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight, crushing
me into his firm, muscular body.

This continued for a several seconds before
he disentangled himself. “Sorry. I just couldn’t help myself,” he
said. “I’ll be a gentleman for the rest of the night. I promise.”
His finger traced the shape of my collarbone as he spoke. Heat
rocked through my body, along with the familiar buzzing sensation,
but I was in perfect control.

“Okay. Let’s go.” He held out his hand. We
went out to his car with our fingers entwined. He weaved in and out
of the San Antonio traffic, glancing at me as he drove.

“I should give you a heads up about
something,” he said. “It’s kind of stupid and I hate to even
mention it.”

“What is it?”

“Sometimes when I go out in public, things
will happen. Someone may come up and ask for an autograph, or
sometimes photographers will show up.”

“You mean, like the paparazzi?”

“Yeah. Sometimes employees of bars and
restaurants will tip them off in exchange for cash. I try to stay
off the radar and San Antonio is low key, so hopefully it won’t
happen. I don’t want you to have to deal with it. You’ll be safe
with me though. I won’t let them bother you.”

“No biggee. I won’t pick my nose or
anything.”

He smiled. “Thanks for being so cool about
it. It’s really embarrassing to even have to discuss this with
you.”

We pulled into a non-descript strip mall in a
middle class neighborhood. He gestured at a small Italian
restaurant in the far end of the mall. “It doesn’t look like much,
but it’s really good food.”

Booths and tables lined the walls. The
lighting was dim. Greenery was everywhere, with ivy creeping up the
walls. A massive wine rack dominated the front of the restaurant.
Faint Italian opera music came through hidden speakers. The host
immediately recognized Gavyn.

“Around the corner, sir?” he asked.

“Yes, please. Thank you,” Gavyn replied.

He led us to a section of the restaurant out
of view of the main door. Patrons gestured and whispered as we
walked through.

There were only three small tables at the
back section, all empty. “Let’s keep this a private party,” Gavyn
said to the host, pressing a bill into his hand.

A discreet waiter took our food and wine
order. We poured the wine and clinked our glasses together in a
silent toast.

He watched me for a few minutes, not saying
anything. For once, I did not feel the need to fill the silence
that loomed between us.

“Aurora,” he said. My heart jumped when I
heard him say my name. “You really are beautiful.”

“Oh, my God, don’t start that again!”

“Quit deflecting my compliments. I’ve been
all over the world, and believe it or not, people all start to look
the same. But not you. There is something about your face.
It’s…lovely.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Not to mention your figure,” he said with a
more devious smile.

“Watch it, mister.” I pointed my finger at
him.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just
sayin’. ”

I smiled. “Okay. Duly noted. Can we talk
about something else now? How does one go about becoming a famous
movie star?”

“Dumb luck.” He tapped the stem of his wine
glass with his finger while he talked. “I was in theatre
productions in London when I was a teenager. I liked acting, but I
never actually thought I could turn it into a career, so I just did
theatre in the summers for fun. A talent agent showed up at one of
our modest productions and scouted me. I was filming my first major
film six weeks later. The rest, you Americans would say, is
history.”

“It sounds like a little more than dumb luck.
It sounds like you were picked out of a crowd.”

“Just luck. It’s not a bad life and I can’t
complain about the money, but it’s been an adjustment. I can’t go
to a supermarket, or a shopping center, or to the movies, or to an
airport without attracting some attention. I’ve enjoyed myself
here. Not a lot of press, laid back culture, and there’s this very
special girl I’ve met.”

His words moved through me. The rush of
euphoria set my body ablaze with sensations. Some were very
promising, some were scary, some were warning me I was on the edge
of floating out my chair...literally. I began my slow count
backwards from twenty, in my head.