What He Bargains (What He Wants, Book Nineteen) (2 page)

It wasn’t a lie.

And if my earliest convenience was much, much later well, then, that was life.

T
he Theresa M. Mumford Athletic Center
was new and state of the art, housed in a gleaming building on the east side of campus, the north side of the building making up the border between university property and Manhattan proper.

It was surprisingly busy. I’d always thought my fellow students were too busy studying or partying to have time to work out, but apparently a fair percentage of them thought physical fitness was important, because even at this ungodly hour, the place was packed. Girls with perfectly toned bodies and shiny ponytails bounced along on the ellipticals, while the guys lifted weights, the sound of the weight stacks slamming into each other piercing the soft whir of the cardio machines.

There were a few empty treadmills against one of the far walls that looked out over the street. The sky outside was a muted blue grey, and I hoped it was because the windows were tinted. I didn’t relish the idea of people outside being able to see me bouncing around on the treadmill, but there weren’t many other options since the gym was so busy.

I set my bag down on the windowsill, then climbed on the treadmill and set the speed to 3.0, deciding to take it easy and warm up for a bit.

A second later someone hopped onto the machine next to me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, turning to look at the person who’d gotten on. “But my friend is going to be joining me, so if you don’t mind moving to the – ” I stopped talking.

Dr. Jason Cartwright was on the treadmill next to me. He was wearing a Middleton Psych Department t-shirt and a pair of navy track pants, headphones slung around his neck.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I didn’t know stalking was part of the deal.”

“What do you mean?”

“You,” I said. “You’re stalking me.” Why else would he have shown up at the gym right after I’d sent him a text telling him where I was going?

He shook his head and pushed the buttons on his display, setting it to a 6.0. He began jogging easily, his legs keeping pace with the belt. “That’s not really stalking.”

“I send you a text telling you I’m on my way to the gym, and you just happen to be here at the same time? After you sent me an email? That sounds like stalking to me.”

“It was very important that I talk to you, and since you decided not to reply, I kind of had no choice.”

“So talk.” I kicked my treadmill up to a 3.2, mostly because I didn’t want him to think he was going that much faster than me, even though he was.

“Charlotte,” Jason said, and now his voice was low and serious, all traces of friendliness gone. “Can you tell me when, exactly, you started your relationship with Noah Cutler?”

My heart clenched at the sound of Noah’s name, and I shivered, suddenly cold again. “I’m not having a relationship with him.”

Jason glanced over at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” I thrust my chin in the air and knocked my treadmill up to a 3.3. Take that! I thought. If I started to feel really daring, I’d go for a 4.0

On the other side of me, a girl wearing black spandex shorts that hit just below her butt cheeks and a sports bra that showed off a strip of her tan stomach climbed onto the treadmill. She stretched her arms behind her head, her breasts staying perfectly in place in the way only B-cups or smaller could.

When she straightened back up, she looked over at Jason and slid her eyes up his body appreciatively. She set her treadmill to a 7.0 and began to jog, her gait relaxed and easy. Great. Now I had two runners on each side of me, both in way better shape than I was. How were these people making running look so easy?

Jason stopped his treadmill. “Can we go back to my office?” he asked quietly. His eyes darted over to the girl on the treadmill next to me and he raised his eyebrows as if to say,
do you really want her listening to this?

But I wasn’t falling for that.

I didn’t want to talk to him.

This wasn’t a session.

“No, thank you.”

“Can we go downstairs and get a coffee then?”

“No.” I pushed the treadmill up to a 3.7, but I was starting to get out of breath, and I prayed he would leave. It was going to be hard to be haughty if I flew off the back of this thing. “I’m meeting my friend.”

He glanced around. “What friend?”

“You don’t know her.” Where the hell was Cora anyway? If she didn’t get here soon I was going to end up making a huge fool of myself. I picked my phone up from where I’d set it down on the treadmill. One new text.

Cora.

Sorry, sweetie, too tired for gym after all! But a bunch of us are going out tonight, you should join! Xoxo

I sighed.

“Charlotte.” Jason reached over and pushed the button to stop my treadmill.

“Hey!” I said, but I was secretly glad. My leg muscles were screaming and my thighs felt like they were on fire.

“Please, I need to talk to you. Something bad is happening.” I opened my mouth to talk, but he cut me off. “It has to do with Noah.”

My mouth went dry. “What do you mean?”

The girl next to us was openly listening now, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but the knowing look on her face made me think she knew exactly who I was, that she knew about me and Professor Worthington.

“Fine,” I said, and stepped off the treadmill. “Five minutes.”

***

We went to Annie’s Juicery, the juice bar on the corner – technically, it wasn’t part of the university. But its proximity to the gym and the library meant that it was always filled with students.

“What do you want to drink?” Jason asked as we stood in line.

I looked up and scanned the chalkboard menu, running my eyes down the list of beverages, each one trendier than the last. They were all made with almond milk or soy milk and filled with things like hemp and organic bananas. There was a big sign on the wall that said CASH ONLY.

“I didn’t… I didn’t bring any cash,” I said, pawing through my bag.

“It’s fine,” Jason said. “I got it.”
“Thank you.”

He ordered us both organic vanilla almond milk smoothies with raw honey and banana.

We found a table by the window, and I sat down and took a sip of my drink. It was better than I thought it would be, but not exactly something I’d choose to have every day. Which was probably why that girl next to me on the treadmill looked like she did, and why I looked like I did.

“Charlotte,” Jason said and sighed. “I got a call this morning from the dean of students.”

“Dean Geist?”

He nodded. “There’s been a complaint.”

My mouth went dry and my hand tightened around my glass. “What kind of complaint?”

“A formal complaint about you. About your relationship with Noah Cutler.”

My heart started hammering in my chest. “What do you mean?”

“You were working for Professor Worthington on Noah’s case as a student of Middleton University.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No, I was working on Noah’s case as a part of Professor Worthington’s firm.”

“Yes, but you were chosen for the job because you were in his class, not because you were his employee.” Jason’s eyes knit together and his tone softened. I hated that his tone was softening. I didn’t want his tone to soften, because it meant he thought whatever he was saying was serious. “The school is launching an ethics investigation.”

“What?”

“They’re launching an investigation into whether anything you did was inappropriate.” He was looking at me with sympathy, and I hated it, hated the way he saw me as just this naïve young girl who had no idea what she’d gotten herself into, had no idea how the decisions she’d made were going to effect her.

I sucked in a breath, the word echoing through my brain.

Inappropriate.

The whips.

The belt.

The paddle.

The marks on my wrists, the way Noah had fucked me the first night I met him, taking me in the alley after the bar yes, but even after that, even after I’d known I was going to be working on his case.

“But that’s…. If anyone should be in trouble, it’s Professor Worthington,” I tried. But even as I was saying it, I knew it didn’t make any sense. Why would Professor Worthington be in trouble because
I
had sex with Noah?

“Charlotte –”

“Whatever,” I said. “I’ll fight it. They have no proof.”

Jason hesitated. “The Bar Association might get involved.”

“What?” My hand tightened around my glass again. “Why would the bar care?”

“If a student is found to have violated their university’s code of ethics, the bar can get involved.”

I felt like the breath had been knocked from me.
The bar.
The bar was serious. If you had a university ethics violation, it could be sealed. But once the bar got involved, it was a serious matter. The bar could stop you from practicing law, they could decide you weren’t even allowed to become a lawyer.

“Oh my God,” I said, and I could feel the tears starting at the back of my eyes.

“Charlotte,” Jason said, and he reached across the table and put his hand on mine. “Take some deep breaths, just stay calm.”

I nodded, trying to listen to what he was saying, but I was so caught up in my own head that it was hard. I tried to force myself to focus on something, anything that would ground me in the moment -- the tiny tiles on the floor, the curve of the table’s leg, the slight crease in the leather of my sneaker

“Get your hands off her,” a voice growled, and I looked up from the floor.

Noah.

He was standing there in a crisp black suit and tie, pulled up to his full height of six-foot-three, his muscular shoulders square and broad. His voice was low and even, controlled, and it made him seem even scarier than if he’d come in yelling and screaming. He had the tone of a man who wasn’t scared, who meant what he was saying and wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to make sure he got what he wanted.

“Noah,” I said, resisting the urge to jump from my chair and bury my face in his neck. But I couldn’t, for a myriad of reasons, the most important being that we were basically campus and with the new information I’d just received, I needed to be extremely careful about who saw me with Noah.

Jason looked up, too, his eyes meeting Noah’s.

“I said get your hands off her,” Noah repeated.

Jason moved his hand off of mine and put his hands in the air. “Dude, relax,” he said. “You must be Noah, right? I’m Dr. Jason Cartwright, I’m Charlotte’s therapist.”

“Charlotte doesn’t need a therapist.” Noah turned to look at me. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Noah,” I said, swallowing. “Please, can you just go outside? I’ll meet you out there, I can explain– ”

“Charlotte,” Noah said.
“Now.”

“Look,” Jason said. “It’s obvious that you two are going through some things. It happens. If you’d like, we can set up a session for all of us. Everything you say will be kept in strictest confidence, we can –”

“I don’t need a therapist to talk to my fiancé.”

Jason scoffed. “Yeah, well, you need something, brother, because whatever you’re doing isn’t working. She was just about to start crying.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Noah reached down and curled his fingers around Jason’s t-shirt, picked him up and then threw him down on the table. My drink went flying onto the floor as I leapt out of my chair, the tall glass smashing into a million pieces.

Noah put his face right up to Jason’s. “Do not tell me how to talk to her.”

I put my hand on Noah’s back. “Noah,” I said. “Noah, please, stop!”

But Noah didn’t stop.

“Do you understand me?” he demanded, his hand tightening around Jason’s t-shirt.

“Yeah, dude, relax.” Jason held his hands up, and Noah held him for a moment longer than necessary before finally releasing him.

“Charlotte,” Noah said. “Go outside.”

“Charlotte,” Jason said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Noah turned back toward Jason, his hand curling into a fist.

“If you don’t get out of here right now, then I’m calling the police!” The manager of the juice bar, a young guy who couldn’t have been much older than me, had appeared next to us, holding a cordless phone in his hand.

“Noah, please.” I pulled on his arm and he turned to look at me, his eyes locking on mine, the fury burning bright. “Come on, I don’t want to get in trouble.”

He finally relented, his shoulders relaxing as he began pulling me toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” I mouthed at Jason, and I saw him shake his head at me sadly before Noah led me out of sight.

“What the hell was that about?” I raged as soon as Noah and I were out on the street. I was pissed as hell. Noah was the one who’d left me last night, the one who’d decided to go to a hotel, and now here he was, just showing up out of nowhere and making demands. Not to mention attacking my therapist, the person who was in charge of making recommendations to the school about me.

I started walking fast, back around the side of the building, wanting to put as much distance between me and the juice bar as I could. The last thing I needed was the police showing up, or worse, campus security filing a report that could be used against me later.

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Noah said as he fell into step beside me.

“You can’t go around slamming people into tables like that,” I said.

“What were you doing with him, Charlotte?”

“How did you know I was there?” I fired back, ignoring the question.

“Your email and texts.”

I whirled around on the street, my hair whipping against my face. “You’re spying on my messages?”

“It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

“It’s a gross invasion of privacy is what it is, Noah!” I shook my head. “I cannot believe this. How long have you been checking my email and texts?”

He cocked his head. “Charlotte, come on.”