Elect

Chapter Twenty Chase

I knew the instant she came into the room. It took exactly three seconds for her perfume to float from her body and into my personal hell.

I was lying underneath a giant white down comforter and trying to breathe in the smell of the laundry detergent.

“Chase?” she whispered.

Shit. I squeezed my eyes tightly closed and answered, “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

The light was off so I couldn’t see her, but I knew she was close. Soon her cold feet were touching my legs as she got out of her bed and lay down next to me in mine. Thankfully, the comforter was creating a really nice boundary between her and my body. Otherwise… well, I would have probably died.

“For whatever I did to make you mad.” Her hand reached out to pat my arm. “I’m sorry.”

“Trace…” I groaned, “you didn’t do anything.” And that was the problem, wasn’t it? My pride was hurt a bit; that much was sure. But, part of me, a small part—or maybe a large part—thought we had something. A connection that she and Nixon didn’t have. What we’d shared over the past few months had been unique, different. I felt it and she didn’t. She shouldn’t be apologizing for being the strong one.

“Come here.” Suddenly I wasn’t so concerned with losing control. I was her friend, she’d put me in that zone, and the last thing she needed was for me to be an ass about her not loving me when her grandfather was stuck in hiding and her almost-rapist was chained to a chair on the grounds threatening to kill everyone. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” I kissed her head and sighed when she wrapped her arm around my chest and tucked her head under my arm.

“What are you sorry for?”

Oh so many, many things. “Not being who you need me to be.”

“You mean like earlier when you were being a jackass in your stupid Betty Crocker apron?”

Chuckling, I squeezed her closer. “Hey, don’t hate on the apron. And yes, like earlier today. I guess… well I guess I’m just not used to all your hormones.”

“What?” Her voice bordered on murderous.

I laughed. “Trace, I’m just used to a lot more violence and killing, and here you show up with a cow keychain, a fetish for every damn squirrel on campus and the ability to make me laugh my ass off, regardless of if you mean to or not. You’re just…”

Amazing, she was amazing.

“Perfect, and your light kind of makes my darkness seem a lot more lonely.”

“But you’re with me twenty-four-seven?”

Yes, just another problem. “Right, but you aren’t mine. Get it? It’s like getting a present for Christmas only to find out someone’s going to take it away on New Year’s.”

“What kind of present am I?” Trace laughed. “Come on, you can tell me.”

“A bike.” I shook with laughter. “Because I would ride you so hard that you’d—”

Her fist knocked the wind out of my stomach pretty effectively, ruining the arousal I’d had going for me about fifteen minutes ago.

We lay there in complete silence for a while, and then she said in a sleepy voice, “Don’t leave me again, Chase. Please.”

“I won’t,” I vowed. “I swear.”

The next day didn’t suck so bad. First of all, it was Tuesday so it was lab day for Trace, meaning I got to sit and watch her learn how not to do chemistry. The girl really needed to decide on a major soon. Those Gen Eds were going to be the death of one or both of us.

“You can’t mix those.” I reached out and took the beaker away from her and set it near the Bunsen burner that, luckily, wasn’t currently on. Shit, at the rate she was going she was going to burn down the entire school.

With a sigh, she slumped onto her stool. “It’s official. I hate chemistry.”

Winking, I sat down next to her. “I got an A in this class.”

“You slept with Dr. Stevens?” she gasped. “Chase Winter, shut up; you’ll stop at nothing for a good grade, won’t you?”

Scowling, I looked toward the front of the class, where a very old Dr. Stevens was writing on the Smart Board. “She’s eighty.”

“Players don’t discriminate.” Trace held up her hands in mock surrender.

“I earned the A; I didn’t—do sexual acts for it. You seriously need to stop believing everything Tex says.”

“Funny, that’s what he says about you.”

Things had been super easy with us all day. As long as I didn’t touch her or think about the kiss, I was fine and I didn’t want to jump headfirst out the window. I just hoped that Luca and the rest of his men weren’t going to jump out of the bushes or question my relationship with her. We were hanging out enough to make it look real. At least I hoped we were.

The door to the classroom opened.

And in walked Luca. Shit, that only meant one thing. He’d gone above Nixon’s head—directly to the school board. No way would Nixon let him in this place on a regular basis. Lucky for Luca, Nixon couldn’t say a word against him without causing questions.

“Class!” Dr. Stevens whistled. “Today we have a special treat for all of you! Luca Nicolosi is a world renowned researcher in the chemistry field. He will be here for the next month visiting family and has agreed to teach my Chemistry 101 class for the duration of the month. I uh…” Her smile was forced. “As it is, I haven’t taken a vacation in quite some time. It was perfect timing. Truly. Wonderful timing.”

Shit. She was lying, trying to convince herself of the idea; that much was clear. I kept an indifferent smirk on my face as Dr. Stevens continued to fire off all of Luca’s wonderful attributes.

Luca was brilliant. I should have seen that one coming but my focus had been on Trace, not on the Sicilian who snaked his way into our own private university.

When she was done, Luca spoke. “I’m honored to be here at Eagle Elite and have heard glowing reports of its student body. I’ll be more than happy to share my knowledge with anyone willing to pursue a career in the interesting field of chemistry.”

“Thank you, Mr. Nicolosi.” Dr. Stevens cleared her throat. “Class will be dismissed a bit early today.”

The room erupted into cheers as students gathered their things and headed toward the door. Trace reached for my hand. I squeezed it and put her bag on my other shoulder.

Luca watched us the entire way to the door. “Chase, Tracey, I look forward to seeing you in lab Thursday.”

“That’s if Tracey makes it that long,” I joked and nudged her a bit. “Chemistry isn’t her strong suit, almost burned down the classroom today, huh, babe?”

“Sorry.” Trace nuzzled my neck and sighed. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“Well.” Luca cleared his throat. “How very convenient that a senior such as yourself, Mr. Winter, was able to enroll in a freshman class.”

“Damn convenient.” I winked and kissed Trace’s hand. “See ya Thursday.”

I could feel Trace’s hand shaking in mine even as we left the room. “He’s still watching,” she whispered.

We walked farther down the hall. “Now?” I asked, as we paused in the middle of the hall pretending to look in her bag.

“Yes.”

“Damn.” I grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed her against the wall—not hard, but hard enough to gain attention from passing students.

My lips were on hers in seconds. The only difference between last time and now—the girl was kissing me back as if her life depended on it.

Which in this instance, it did.

Her tongue touched mine, my body responded as if I’d just gotten electrocuted. I knew I had seconds, maybe a minute. I savored her taste. I plundered and pushed, and tasted, and sucked. I moaned when her hands tugged my hair. I about died when she bit down on my lip, and almost cried when she pulled away.

“He’s not looking anymore,” a male voice said behind me. Paralyzed, I watched as Trace’s eyes welled with tears. And I knew, before I even turned around, that the voice belonged to Nixon and he’d seen every damn thing.