Preservation (8 page)

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Authors: Rachael Wade

Tags: #romance, #Wade, #Rachael, #Preservation, #Fiction

BOOK: Preservation
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“Even if we were waiting on you to choose one of us someday, can you really blame us? Can you even see why this stupid thing with Campbell is infuriating for me? You finally show interest in someone, and it just so happens to be some college professor playboy.” He shook his head and rubbed his hand across his forehead. “Your dad may have run out on you and left you to clean up the mess, but it’s no excuse to shut everyone out. And if you
are
going to finally let someone in, for the love of God, please don’t deliberately choose someone you know will burn you. Because that’s exactly what you’re in for if you mess around with this Campbell guy.”

People started staring, slowing down as they passed us. I exhaled, lifelessly raising my hands in the air. I had no idea what to say to all that. Apparently, Carter had been holding a lot in, and it was only fair to let him speak his piece.

“But you know that already, don’t you?” He spoke softly now, looking at me once more before he sailed past me, leaving me in the squalls of market traffic, letting it swallow me up in its endless rhythm.

***

The week dragged on, my fallout with Carter leaving me listless and empty. Dean came over a few times to try and cheer me up, but he wouldn’t say much, just gave me a hug and told me that we’d kiss and make up at some point.

“They were things that needed to be said, Kate. Just let him be for a while. He’s crazy about you, you have to remember that. Neither one of us can stay mad at you for very long.”

“Thanks for coming, Dean. Good luck with your show tonight. And tell Crystal ‘hi’ for me.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

On Monday I missed Ryan’s entire lecture, zoning in and out as he spoke, trying to make sense of everything that had happened with Carter. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the way he’d blown up over something that was nonexistent. I wasn’t involved with Ryan, I wasn’t planning on
getting
involved
with Ryan, and I definitely had no interest in pursuing a relationship at all, let alone with my professor. Didn’t Carter know me at all? Hadn’t I made myself clear?

The truth began to gnaw away at me, the silence in my mind revealing my most inner realities—that I did like Ryan. I did let him flirt with me, and on some level, I enjoyed it. But so what? I wasn’t going to let it go anywhere. Certainly not after what I’d heard about him, even if I couldn’t believe everything I heard. And knowing he was dating the redhead? And likely romancing another blonde? Forget it. I wasn’t
that
girl, no matter how much he raised my blood pressure. So why was all this eating away at me so much?

Surely I wasn’t attracted to Ryan because I knew he was bad for me. And if I was, what kind of person did that make me? Knots formed in my stomach and I sank further down into my seat while I pondered the potential truth of Carter’s comments.

Before I knew it, class was over, and as everyone began piling out of the room, Ryan leisurely rested against his desk, rolling his pencil between his fingers as he watched me walk down the stairway to meet him, a cocky, expectant grin on his face.

I decided to keep things formal.

“Mr. Campbell, you wanted to see me?”

“Why yes, Ms. Parker, I did.” His grin turned to a frown when he heard my address, his tone uncertain. He stopped toying with the pencil and turned to grab a piece of paper. The room filled with silence as the last student shut the door.

“There’s something I wanted to show you, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in going with me.”

Going with him? Crap. “Okay...”

“It’s a writer’s conference in Portland, a month from now. I’ve had two spots reserved for months now, just in case one of my students wanted to attend. It’s a great chance to network and improve your craft.” He handed me the flyer.

I didn’t take my eyes off of it.

“No pressure or anything, just thought I’d offer.”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean, why me and not one of your other students?”

“Because I have faith in your work and I’m excited to see where it’s going to take you.” His eyes turned cold, his jaw set. “Is that sufficient for you?” He lifted himself from the desk, standing now.

“No, Mr. Campbell. I don’t think it is.”

“Is there a problem, Ms. Parker? Something you want to say to me?” Reaching for his tie, he began to loosen it, unraveling it with his fingers, angry eyes still locked on mine.

“I’m not sure I like being your pet. Or your science project, I don’t know which.”

“You have a smart mouth.”

“You make smart observances.”

“You’re going to make this invitation difficult, aren’t you?”

“If you’re dishonest with me, yes.”

“You’ll regret it if you don’t accept.”

“Is that a threat?”

“That’s a promise.”

I pursed my lips and peered out the window.

“Dishonest with you about what, exactly?”

My head snapped toward him again. “Are you inviting me to this because you sincerely want me to go to the conference or because you like me?”

“Like you? What is this, third grade? My answer is both. And that’s a problem because?”

“I’ve heard things about you.”

“Oh?” He plopped down onto the ledge of the desk.

“That you sleep with your students and cheat on your girlfriend.”

“Excuse me? I don’t have a girlfriend. And who I sleep with isn’t any of your damn business.” He walked around to the other side of his desk, removed his gray tweed jacket and flicked it onto his chair.

“I think it
is
my business if I’m going to be spending time with you off campus. And isn’t the redhead your girlfriend?”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to Alisha, and no, she is
not
my girlfriend. Not anymore. Damn it, Kate, who the hell do you think you are? You’re my student, I’m offering you a chance to go to this conference, and you’re going to take it. That’s it, nothing more.”


Excuse me?”

He veered around the desk to stand in front of me again, our faces inches apart, nose to nose. “You heard me. You’re going to go because you deserve it. You’re going to go because it’s an excellent opportunity for you, and nothing you hear about me on this damn campus or elsewhere is going to deter you, understand?” He licked his lips and rubbed his jaw, glare stone cold.

My fists balled at my sides and I could feel my face flush, a combination of fury at his audacity and nervousness from standing so close to his mouth again. I didn’t trust myself around that mouth.

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know your writing.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It’s more than enough.”

“Are you attracted to me, Mr. Campbell?”

“Ryan.”

“Ryan. Well are you?”

“Of course I am, Kate. What, are you not used to men finding you attractive? Do you need me to display it on a parade float for you? Do you want me to do a song and dance?” He spoke quieter now, an angry whisper. “I won’t screw you over like the other female students I have in the past, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So it’s true.” I breathed, my eyes bouncing from his lips back to his smoldering, caramel eyes.

“I’m not proud of it and I can’t take it back. So take it or leave it.” He shifted forward and his fingertips grazed mine. “I won’t feed you lies and bullshit, Kate. I’ve messed around with my students and I was a complete asshole about it. But you’re too good for me. I wouldn’t hurt you. And from here on out, I won’t say or do anything that will make you uncomfortable. You can go to the conference without me, please just go.” Too good for him?
What? Why is he talking as if he knows me? Damn it, where is this going?

The tips of his warm fingers sent a jolt through me and I involuntarily moved closer to him, understanding the weight of what I was about to do—right here in his classroom. A hypnotic thrall reeled me in, calling me to his touch, toward the current that passed from his fingertips to mine.

I peered up at him with frustration, trying to grasp his effect on me. It was so beyond my comprehension and yet so crystal clear. We shared similar defenses, just different mechanisms. He scared people off with his sleazy reputation and haughty persona, and I scared them off with the scars of my past and my workaholic nature. I could see right through him. Was I just as transparent?

“I won’t touch you unless you drop my class. And only if you want me to,” he shut his eyes and leaned in further, his lips barely touching mine as he tilted his head. “I can’t fuck up again, Kate. I won’t. Not with you.”

I rested my hand on his chest and felt it constrict, his heat pulling me in closer. “So if I’m not your student...” I whispered and brushed my lips over his, feeling his hand slip around and rest on the curve of my back. His stubble was so close and his heartbeat raced under the palm of my hand. He swept a few strands of hair away from my eyes and cupped my cheek in his palm, lightly brushed his lips against mine again, this time pressing down to capture a kiss.

The sound of the classroom door slamming against the wall caused us to jump apart.

“You son of a bitch.” There stood Alisha, the redhead, arms crossed and fury present. Damn.
I thought I threw Ginger off the boat.

7. CATALYST

“Don’t do this, Alisha. Not now.” Ryan grabbed his jacket from the chair and glanced nervously between me and the door.

“Oh, what, Ry? Is it inappropriate? You seem to be perfectly comfortable with inappropriate things. Do I need to go to the dean? You’ve already almost lost your job once.”

“I said
don’t
.”

“Where’s the blonde, huh? What, you’re into brunettes, now? That’s new.”

“I was just leaving.” I rushed toward the door.

Alisha snatched my arm as I breezed past her and jerked me in front of her. “He’ll do the same thing to you, you little slut. He’s incapable of being a boyfriend, you know. Can’t keep it in his pants. I can tell you all about it over coffee sometime.”

“Alisha, back the fuck off.” Ryan charged toward us, his tone deadly.

I yanked my arm free and stepped closer to her face. “Don’t touch me. And don’t preach your slut speech to me. If you’ve been with him, you’re no different than all the rest, I’m sure. Sorry to hear he didn’t want you, but take that up with him, not me.” I flew through the door, hearing the screaming match begin before I even made it to the hallway.

The tears welled up and panic set in as I raced across campus to get to the Light Rail.
What the hell just happened?
If I thought I wanted to punch Ryan before, I really wanted to let him have it now. And who would’ve thought such an elegant, demure-looking woman could be so ruthless? How could he ever be with someone so hostile? Did he like all of his bimbos rabid and feral?

I jumped onto the Light Rail and tried to regain some composure, loosening my scarf and jamming my iPod earbuds into my ears, this time opting for Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” I was blowing off the rest of my classes, but I didn’t care. I wanted to get as far away from school as possible. And the one person I wanted to run to, the one person I knew that would accept me in open arms was back in the cafeteria, still refusing to speak to me. Dean would be great company too, but things were getting serious with him and Crystal. The last thing I wanted to do was encroach on their space and make Crystal uncomfortable. She already knew how Dean felt about me. No need to rub it in.

It would have been the perfect, chilly afternoon to take a drive up to Anacortes and hop the ferry to Orcas Island for some peace and quiet, some time to think. But I didn’t have the time or the funds on my side this afternoon. Instead, I headed home to my flat and ate some lunch, letting the morning’s events sink in as I sipped my tea.

A knock at the door startled me from my reflections and I jumped to my feet to answer.

“Ms. Parker?” The delivery guy asked.

“That’s me.”

“This is urgent, from the university. Sign here, please.”

I signed and took the envelope, opening it before I even shut the door. Neat, sharp handwriting danced across the letter, slanting in a crooked direction toward the bottom.

Kate,
I’m so sorry you had to go through that. She never should’ve spoken to you that way. Please forgive me, and don’t miss out on this conference. You can hate me, but don’t pass this up. Take this ticket and go. I won’t be there. If by some chance you do want to talk, I’ll be at Easy Street Records tonight at 9 pm in Queen Anne. I’d really like to talk, but I understand if you don’t want to see me. Either way, I’m begging you to go to the conference and hope you’ll finish up my class.
Ryan

I read it twice, trying to decide whether or not I should take him up on his offer. Staring at the ticket wrapped inside the letter, I grabbed it and pinned it to the fridge, resolved to think about it later. As for his other offer, to talk, that was an entirely different decision all together. What was there to talk about? He clearly had unfinished business with this Alisha person, wouldn’t pursue anything with me unless I wasn’t his student, and promised he wouldn’t do or say anything to make me uncomfortable. Plus I didn’t want a relationship. No. I couldn’t afford that sort of drama.

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