One Hot Fall Term (Yardley College Chronicles Book1) (25 page)

I have to gather up the courage to use the equipment.

But I’m so afraid I’m going to screw up and cut off a finger that I’m sick inside and my hands are shaking—

“Mia.”

The husky voice wraps around me. I was certain Ryan was going to go back to school today. Not because I told him to go back and insisted I would help him through his upcoming midterms, but because I’d lost him. I didn’t see him all day yesterday, even at night. I went by his motel room, but he wasn’t there, so I gave up and came back to studio.

Now he’s here.

I smile so wide it hurts. I’m so filled with happiness my heart aches.
What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving.
I don’t say any of those things. I run over to him and hug him.

His big, strong arms come around me. I snuggle against his plaid shirt, my cheek pressed tight to hear his heartbeat. It races like mine is doing.

Then I pull back and we talk at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I met that guy and freaked out, thinking you must be falling for him. I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I never meant to keep things from you. I really just didn’t want you to worry about me.”

We both stop at the same time. I rush on, “It’s not because I didn’t want to talk to you, because I did. But I know you have so much to worry about with school and your dad, and I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“You’re not a burden. I love you. Now I probably have lost you because I was acting like an ass.”

“No, you haven’t lost me. I was afraid I was losing you.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Never.”

I sigh and fall against him.

Hugging me, he notices the wood and metal sitting on my desk. I explain about my project. “I have to go into the wood shop and build some stuff. I really don’t want to go.”

“Why not?”

I feel like a coward but I admit, “I’m scared of the equipment. I have to cut some shapes on the band saw. I don’t know if I have to use the big one—it terrifies me. As for the table saw, I don’t even want to stand near it when it’s turned on” I tell him about the equipment that is in there and in the metal-working shop, and how I don’t feel prepared to use stuff. “The shop techs are really helpful, but they don’t build stuff for you, and I’m scared I’ll do something stupid just because I don’t realize it is stupid.”

Ryan nods. “I almost had a couple of accidents in the garage because I didn’t know any better.  Do you mind if I go with you? I might have used a lot of the tools and I can show you how they work and how to be safe around them. I might be able to give you more tips than the shop techs did. I can help you with this project, if that’s allowed.”

My heart does a wild dance. “Would you? I think it is okay to get help.”

I lead him to the shops and introduce him to the technicians. I can tell they take a liking to Ryan at once, because he’s polite and also obviously knows how to use tools. They give him a spare set of shop glasses, which shows how impressed they are by him. No student would be able to wrangle free glasses.

I roll out my drawings on one of the scarred wooden work tables and show Ryan what I need to do. He then shows me how to use the band saws, including the big one that scares me. He shows me how to use fences for guiding material through the blade. He explains how to use even the tools I don’t need to use yet, so I’m familiar with them. Under his guidance, I rip a board on the table saw, after he explains how to ensure the correct blade is in, how to set up the saw, how to run the wood through safely.

By late afternoon, I’m working on the milling machine. I’m careful and cautious, but I feel comfortable and no longer terrified.

“You saved my life today,” I tell Ryan. “I couldn’t face doing any of that and you got me through.”

“I talked to your friend, Jonathon, last night.”

My heart stutters. So that was where he was. What happened between them?

“He told me this guy wore a mask, so you didn’t even see what he looks like. They have no idea who he is.”

“Not yet.”

He looks brooding.

“You have to go back to school, Ryan. You can’t stay just to protect me.”

“I talked to Jonathon and he promised me he would take care of you.”

My eyes go wide. “But—”

“Yeah, I’m asking my competition to spend time with you. But I have to know you’re going to be protected, Mia.”

“He is not your competition. You have
no
competition. No one could dream of competing with you.”

“I’d like to teach you some skills to take care of yourself.”

I know he could. Ryan used to do maintenance work and cleaning around a MMA club in Milltown in return for some training from the owner, Danny Lane, and time in the ring.

“Are you kidding? I’m small and kind of skinny—at least right now.”

“You don’t have to be large for these moves. You use your opponent’s size against him. I learned these from Danny’s girlfriend, who was an Olympian in Judo. She’s tinier than you. Tomorrow we’ll work on some moves.”

I know I’m being selfish by keeping him here, but I want to learn these skills. And I suspect that if I let him do this, I’ll be able to convince him to go back to college.

I’ll make it up to him by ensuring he gets through
his
term.

***

I get to use the college gym facilities as a student and Ryan pays to get in. For two days, he teaches me judo throws, how to fend off an attack from behind, even how to deal with a knife attack. At the end of it, I actually throw him to the mat. I assume he let me do it. But he grins up at me, and insists I did that all by myself.

“Thank you,” I tell him. Would I really have the courage to try to throw my attacker? But if I’m grabbed again, if it’s life or death again, of course I would fight as hard and as desperately as I could. Thanks to Ryan, I might actually have a chance to save myself.

He jumps up from the mat by springing directly onto his legs. It’s a move I’ve only seen gymnasts make. His strength amazes me.

I adore his strong body and his gorgeous face but it’s his strength of character that makes me melt into a puddle of desire and love.

“You are amazing,” he tells me. “You picked that up really fast. My roommate tells me I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have a girlfriend who is pretty, smart, and…and sexy, too. You’re also really strong, Mia.”

That is the most beautiful thing anyone has said to me. I want to think of something funny to say, because this moment is so intense I want to cry, but I can’t. Still, I have to face him seriously. “You’ve helped me into the shops and now you’ve taught me how to save my life. But you really, really, really need to go back to school.” I put my hand on the bulge of his biceps. “I’ll never forgive myself if you flunk out over me.”

“For you, Mia,” he says. “I’ll go.”

We walk back to my dorm, arm in arm. Sunlight splashes across the campus, but the air is cold with the promise of winter. I don’t notice the cold, warmed to the heart by being with Ryan.

We share a kiss that goes on and on. Dimly, I’m aware of people passing us, going in and out of the dorm. It’s as if we can stay locked in a kiss until Thanksgiving.

I draw away. “Thanksgiving is a couple more weeks. That’s all we have to wait.”

“I know. But when it’s so close, it’s going to be more painful.”

I giggle. “That’s true. But I’m going to call you and text you a lot. I want to help you with your studying. You’ve saved my life, Ryan. I owe you a huge amount.”

I realize he’s shown me how to face—and conquer—most of the things that scare me. How can I ever repay him for a gift like that?

“That’s what you do for someone you love,” he says softly.

We kiss again, and I know that if I don’t make it a quick one, I will never let him leave. But I guess he feels the same way. He draws back from the kiss, then goes over to his bike. He had his helmet tucked under his arm and he puts it on. He attaches his carrier bag on the motorcycle.

Three more weeks.  Then we get four days together. I can survive. I have to.

As he drives away, disappearing around a bend in the road on his motorcycle, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I ignore it. I hope to have one more glimpse of Ryan. But I don’t.

I pull out my phone. Not to check the message, but to call up one of the pictures I took of Ryan when we were at the inn. In the photo, he’s just wearing his briefs and he’s smiling at me. Gazing at it, I put my hand to my mouth. And start to sob.

***

The morning after Ryan is gone, Jonathon comes by my studio. I’m so thrilled with the progress I made on the milling machine that I accept his invitation for coffee. I can actually take an hour off. I agree to meet him at the coffee shop in the University Center.

But when I sit down opposite Jonathon, cupping my extra-large ordinary coffee in my hands, he looks at me with a strange expression.

“Do I have paint on my face or something? Or sawdust in my hair?” I walked around the whole afternoon after Ryan left with chunks of wood in my hair. I didn’t notice until I was in my bathroom in the dorm, washing up for bed.

Jonathon looks down at his hands, then up at me. “I talked to Ryan.”

“I know. Before he left yesterday, he said he asked you to look after me, and you said you would.”

“Yeah. He’s a great guy, considering he thinks I’m his rival and he still gave me permission to stay close to you.”

“He’s trying to protect me.”

“I hate to do this to him because I respect him.”

“Do what?”

Jonathon looks at me and I lose my breath. The intensity of his gaze is dazzling. “Mia, I want you,” he says. “I’ve tried to keep our relationship as just friends, but I hoped you would change your mind and fall for me. Now that I’ve met Ryan, I understand that I have really stiff competition. I have to fight harder for you.”

Oh no.

“Jonathon—”

“I need you, Mia, and I think we have a special connection. I have something deeper with you than I’ve ever had with anyone other woman. Ryan may be a great guy, but I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before.”

He speaks calmly, but there’s an undercurrent of need to his voice that shocks me, coming from Jonathon.

“I’ve been honest with you from the beginning, Jonathon. I can’t—”

He leans close to me across the table, his voice soft. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? You can be honest with me. You can open up to me. But you can’t be honest with Ryan. If you can talk to me, maybe that means we should be together.”

“I can’t tell him about my past. I’m afraid of losing his love, if he knew the truth.”

“You think Ryan will be disgusted by your past. Mia, you’ve told me everything and have I judged you? If anything, I care about you more now that I know what you’ve been through. I admire you more. I know you’re strong, and you have a huge heart. I don’t see you as damaged, I see you as remarkable. Sexy, beautiful, smart, and courageous.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s almost the same as what Ryan said to me, but Jonathon has said these wonderful things when he knows the worst about me.

I am deeply touched. I’m also shocked.

“But there can’t be anything between us,” I say softly. “I’m in love with Ryan.” I start to get up, to leave my coffee, but Jonathon reaches out and touches my hand.

“Don’t leave. You can be honest with me and we can still be friends. You don’t have to walk away.”

“But I don’t want to give you the wrong idea—”

“You haven’t. You never have. But it’s not so easy to stop wanting you, Mia.”

***

Two days before Thanksgiving I present my project in front of my classmates and my professor, Anton Brut. I stand in front of them and think: I survived getting attacked, I have a guy who loves me (Ryan), and I could judo throw anyone who insults me. Not that I would, but I could.

I’m proud of my project, and proud that I’ve conquered fears with Ryan’s help and with Jonathon’s help. I stand in front of my prof with confidence for the very first time.

And I prevail.

My presentation is strong and I don’t get rattled by the questions. When I have to think for a while to get an answer, I don’t automatically see it as proof I don’t belong. I can put things into perspective. Two guys I admire have complimented my strength. I survived a brutal attack. I refuse to turn into a wuss. If I did, I would be letting Jonathon and Ryan down.

At the end, my studio professor stands up. “An excellent job, Miss Reynolds. I expect you will see your dramatic improvement this term reflected in your marks.”

I’m tempted to point out that I haven’t really ‘improved’, that I’ve always had the capability. Then I realize I have improved. Inside, I have grown stronger.

“Thank you,” is all I say. “I feel I have learned a great deal this term.” I leave it at that, letting Brut think he’s responsible for my growth. Maybe my profs are partly responsible, because they’ve challenged me, and that forced me to fight harder. But the skills to fight have come from Ryan and Jonathon. I remember thinking I could be invincible with Ryan’s support. I guess it’s true.

After the last student in the class presents, it is five-thirty, and we’re free for Thanksgiving. Some of the older students head to the bar for a little ‘attitude adjustment’, i.e. a beer to relax over. I hurry back to my dorm room to pack.

Tomorrow morning—Wednesday—I’m taking a cab to the bus station, then a bus to the airport, then flying to the nearest airport to home, then taking a bus to Milltown.

It’s going to take me hours to get home, and it’s going to be hell to survive lose last few hours before I get home and see Ryan.

I thought I’d be going home to Thanksgiving certain I was going to flunk out. Now I believe I’m going to make it through.