Bad Boy’s Baby(71)

“You think you’re so cute.”

“So do you.”

I wasn’t answering that. He had to work for it. And, knowing Zach? He would.

Eagerly. Like a little boy in a candy store.

“Come on. I’ll ride you to the campus, then we’ll get lunch.”

I secured my backpack and triple checked it wouldn’t spill my life onto the highway. “Lunch?”

“That okay?”

He said it so casually.

Sure, I made a scene when I invited him into my bathtub. And yes, he fulfilled his promise when I finally granted him entry into the master bedroom. But lunch?

Somehow that changed our arrangement to something…different. Good different, but still confusing and exposed. My emotions blended into a weird cocktail of Zach and went straight to my head.

Really, lunch was where our relationship should have began. I went from leaping into bed with him to hating his guts and back again. That emotional whiplash hadn’t stopped for small-talk, baby pictures, or embarrassing stories about our prior relationships.

Had we done it right, I would have started by smiling at him over a menu, flirting by biting a straw, and then excusing myself from the table so he could watch my ass sway. Now we were a couple sways too late for that. Probably a few bounces, spanks, and wiggles too.

Zach shifted his long legs over the motorcycle. He patted behind him.

“Better hang on tight,” he said. “You know. Like last night.”

I smacked him through the helmet, picking a path over the coiled parts and chrome finish. I awkwardly fit onto the seat. I had no choice but to cling to Zach. The bike angled, and my waist ground against his back.

Just what we needed while flying down the highway at sixty miles an hour.

Zach patted my knee and pulled my arms over him.

“Lean when I lean. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Yeah, and Eve trusted the serpent too.

The bike rumbled under us. The first few turns I screeched instead of leaned, but Zach’s heated laugh warmed me. I focused on his movements. By the time we reached the highway I had enough confidence to open my eyes. I clung to his broad shoulders and let the morning wash over us.

A motorcycle. A SEAL. Zach even made baking a pie sexy. I fought to not fall head-over-heels for him if only so I wouldn’t tumble from the bike.

The bag rested heavy on my shoulders. I brought my schedule, my information, and a formal letter of withdrawal. I managed to not cry when typing it up. Printing the document was another story. That emotional breakdown ended with streaked lines, broken toner, and half a package of Oreos to soothe me.

My goal in life.

Gone.

Hell reserved a special circle for horrible professors. The ones who promised to grade on a curve and didn’t. Those who never graded their tests and only posted scores the day before finals. The absent-minded flakes who forgot to assign homework in class and instead emailed the assignment the night before it was due.

The cruel monsters who crushed innocent students trying to get ahead.

I didn’t care about the money I lost in tuition, just how hard I busted my ass to get on the Dean’s List. All that wasted time. Then again, what did time matter to me? It wasn’t like I was in a hurry to find a job and make money. I’d transfer to another school, take my classes, and then do student teaching with a saner advisor.

And I had to prepare to do it alone.

My friends weren’t in a chatty mood after I stormed out of dinner—especially as the forty dollars I tossed on the table didn’t cover all their meals. And Zach…

Zach wouldn’t be hanging around either. My heart ached. I’d actually miss my nuisance house guest when he re-enlisted in the SEALs.

Though I’d rather lose him to a deployment than anything worse.

I didn’t want to imagine something bad happening to him.

I gripped him harder. He didn’t seem to notice—the bastard was too busy accelerating, splitting a lane between two cars and edging onto the exit ramp. I pinched my eyes shut and clung to him as the bike roared over the road.

He didn’t just get off picking up pretty girls from bars. He was a pure adrenaline junkie. No wonder he wanted in the SEALs. He acted like a total idiot as a civilian.

We cruised to the campus and parked outside the administration offices. I hobbled off and handed him my helmet.

“Want me to come in with you?” He asked.

Escort me through this hostile territory? Not without a polo shirt as camouflage, his gun exchanged for a laptop bag, and his radio swapped for Beats headphones. I shook my head.

“I’ll handle it.”

He didn’t remove the sunglasses. That only attracted glances from passing girls. He grinned as I spied a cluster emerging from the nearby dorms.

“They’re freshman,” I warned. “Look, but don’t touch.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “They don’t got a thing on you, baby.”

Christ, I believed him. Again. That would have to stop.

Or did it?

Ugh. Not what I needed to worry about while facing the crumbling foundation of my future.

I marched into the administrative offices with all the confidence I could fake. The secretary greeted me with oversized glasses and undersized patience. I tried to smile, but I didn’t know what expression said Hi, I’m dropping out of college and disappointing generations of my family. Where do I sign?

I opted for something simpler.

“Hi. I…uh, I was withdrawing from my classes. I have my form…”

“Student ID number.”

I rattled it off. She waved for the papers in my hand—the few letters I gathered from my professors who waived the F in favor of an Incomplete.

“A member of the student relations board will call you once this is processed. Please be aware we cannot grant refunds on this semester’s tuition.”

“Oh, I…I know.”

“Have a nice day.”

That was it? I swallowed. The secretary dismissed me with a slurp of her diet Coke.

Was it really that easy? All of Professor Sweeten’s threats, the humiliation at the academy, the sleepless nights—and all I had to do was hand in a letter?

I could have emailed my failure to the school.

What the hell was I doing standing before a complete stranger pretending not to fall to pieces? These people wouldn’t help. They’d sweep me into the same garbage bin as the other shattered students who fell apart before making it into the real world.

Thank God Momma wasn’t here to see this. Or Dad. He was the one who paid for it.

I returned to Zach. He tossed me the helmet.

“It was quick,” I said.

He shuddered. “Words a guy never wants to hear.”

I forced a smile. “I’m not very hungry.”

“But I know the best burger joint.”

“Zach—”

“Hop on. They make a chocolate milkshake that’s more tempting than you.”

Ice-cream did sound good. For a girl without a future and a severe allergy to cats, about the only thing I could collect in the future would be pints of gourmet ice-creams.

Hell, if I really wanted to become an eccentric hermit, I’d invest in some prime ice-cream makers with all my untouched money…

The idea struck me with the same severity as an ice-cream headache. I hopped on the bike and patted for Zach to ride.

“Damn. Someone likes her desserts. You should have told me. I can do wicked things with whipped cream—”

“Drive, Zach.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

True to his word, Zach delivered us to a gluttonous heart-attack waiting to happen—a Mom and Pop diner with food served in a puddle of grease. The milkshake crowned with a heaping layer of whipped cream bigger than my head. It was a good choice.

I nibbled on my fries, scrunching my nose as Zach dipped his into my chocolate shake. He didn’t let me argue.

“Just try it.”

I rolled my eyes and buried the fry into the mess. Sweet, salty, and perfect.

“You gotta stop fighting me,” Zach winked. “No, you can’t live here. No, I don’t want to talk to you. No, don’t put it in there, that’ll hurt.”

“Very funny.”

“You okay?” He asked.

I shrugged, happy for the milkshake to distract me. “I think so.”

“No shame in ordering a second of those.”

Oddly enough, I didn’t need chocolate to survive this crisis. I teased the cherry through the whipped cream and shrugged.

“What if…” I didn’t know how to phrase it or if it was even a viable idea. “You know how everyone tells me to forget college? That I should just buy my own school and screw those who held me back?”

Zach gobbled half of his burger down. He nodded.

“Why don’t I buy a school?”

“Mrphschool?” He swallowed. “A school?”

“Or…a charity. I was thinking…I don’t have to be a teacher to do what I wanted. In fact, I’d be limited if I taught, stuck with a set curriculum and working inside the administration. But, if I had like…an after-school program? Or a school with summer events? Tutoring and games and all that?”

Zach put the burger down. He smiled. His dimples were every bit the affirmation I needed.

“I think it’s a good idea.”

“Really?”

“Sure. With our money? Hell, a chicken in every pot and a tutor for every kid.”

My heart lumped but forgot to bump. “Our money?”