Disobeying Him Page 5

  When he shut his door behind my back, I whispered, “I’ll definitely try.”

  My thoughts reeled for days over Nate’s hot words and even hotter body. Who knew I would be into being dominated? My personality was fire, not a malleable substance but one that burned if someone brave enough attempted to touch it. Nate seemed to know my needs better than I did.

  Yet he was blind to his own. He needed to explode. Sexually and emotionally. I could help him in the emotion department.

  No crossing the sexual line.

  I wanted to touch him again, that was clear, but this was practice for my future years as a therapist. This was for a grade in my psychology class.

  “Where are you right now?” Gavin asked me. He had eaten dinner with me for the past few days after introducing himself in the dining hall. Now we sat for lunch.

  Stop thinking about Nate and enjoy this new friendship.

  Ever since being forgotten and dumped by Jennifer, Sheila, and Mackenzie, I had been craving companionship. A part of me blamed Nate for why I was not friends with the girls, but a deeper part of me knew he was right: I needed real friends. Gavin seemed like he could be a real friend. “So what did you do last night?” I asked.

  His short blond hair hinted at his sunshine personality almost as much as his infectious lazy smile and dimples. His soft brown eyes focused on me as he replied, “Nothing. You?”

  Other than embarrass myself in front of and then half-seduce Nate, only to be seduced by him? “Nothing.”

  We nodded at each other and ate more of our ham sandwiches. “Are we boring people?” I asked.

  “What? No. We just don’t party.”

  “Hey, I party,” I defended myself, but it was a loose claim.

  “New friends,” a male voice shouted before Ryan sat next to me at our lunch table. “This should be a new eating tradition.”

  “It was a new eating tradition,” Gavin said. “The tradition was not going to involve you.”

  The two teased each other with banter after finding out the day before that they had attended the same high school. “You think I’ll let you keep Allie all to yourself?” Ryan asked. “I proclaimed my love for her a few days ago after finding out Nate is scared of her.”

  That piqued my interest. “What do you mean Nate is scared of me?”

  “Don’t take offense,” Ryan said. “He’s scared of most women.”

  “Yeah, why is he so…” Gavin started but did not finish.

  “He’s just strung tight. If you ask me, he needs a good fuc—” Ryan looked at me and backpedaled his sentence. “Fun. He needs some fun.”

  “I’m not a little girl; you don’t have to edit yourself around me.”

  And I would give him a good fu—

  “Nate is always telling me I need to cut back on the cussing,” Ryan said.

  Nate cusses when he is turned on. Hypocrite. “Cussing is healthy,” I informed him. “It releases certain chemicals in the brain to calm people down.”

  Gavin grinned at me and said to Ryan, “She’s a psychology major.”

  “Hot.”

  My friendships with Gavin and Ryan grew each day. We ate together, hung out together, and popped popcorn together. Ryan was an RA who lived two floors above us in the same building, and Gavin lived a couple of rooms away from me on the same level. They became the closest friends I had at Beckett University.

  “Damn,” Gavin yelled when his game character died for the third time. “Why do I keep dying?”

  Both of us liked to distract each other from the other’s homework, so we had started visiting each other’s rooms. We laid back on Gavin’s huge beanbag chair as he played his video game and I ate his popcorn. “Because you lack the skill to pass the level and defeat that green man thing.”

  “Lie to me.”

  “The gaming system is cheating somehow. Everyone knows robots will always beat humans. Those Terminator movies are unrealistic.”

  He leaned his head onto my shoulder. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”

  I pushed him off of me, giggling. “You told me earlier when I volunteered to pop the popcorn.”

  My phone dinged, and I checked it while Gavin restarted his game. I had three new messages. All from Ryan.

  “Allie, come hang out with me instead. Gavin is a hermit and I want to play Frisbee.”

  “I’m much more charming and good looking.”

  “If you don’t respond soon, I will take it to mean Gavin has either murdered you or you two are having sex.”

  My jaw dropped, and I texted him, “Ryan!”

  A ding came from my phone again within seconds.

  “Give me attention. I need attention.”

  I laughed at it, and Gavin shot me a quizzical expression. “Sorry, Ryan keeps texting me,” I explained.

  “Tell him he’s cutting into my Allie time. How are we going to become best friends if your boyfriend is always stealing your attention?”

  “Ryan is not my boyfriend.”

  Gavin nudged me. “Does he know that?”

  I nudged him back. “Of course, he does. We’re friends. Just like you and me.”

  “I prefer to call us soon-to-be best friends. Once you finally trust me enough to tell me about your life.”

  “I’ve told you about my life.” I had no clue he was so perceptive.

  He paused his video game to give me his full attention. “It’s okay that you don’t tell me everything. I get it. I just hope you know I’m here when you’re ready to.”

  I was silent for a moment before my arms wrapped around him in a hug. He laughed and hugged me back.

  There was an abrupt knock on Gavin’s door, and we separated from each other. The door burst open before Gavin had time to finish saying, “Come in.”

  Ryan stepped in and saw our close, intimate position on the beanbag. “You were having sex!”

  I choked on the piece of popcorn I had just tossed in my mouth at Ryan’s loud announcement.

  “Excuse me?” Gavin questioned him and tapped on my back to help with my choking.

  “I’m just kidding. If you haven’t slept with me yet, you definitely wouldn’t sleep with Gavin.”

  “Thanks, man,” Gavin grumbled. I laughed.

  Ryan strode into the room. “Can I hang out with you guys? I’m bored.”

  “You’re always bored,” I commented.

  Ryan jumped down on the beanbag between Gavin and me, and we nearly bounced off it from the impact. Ryan’s muscles now squeezed up against me. I had never realized he was so fit.

  Still, not as hot as Nate.

  “What were you guys talking about?”

  “You mean before you so rudely interrupted?” Gavin asked. “Life.”

  “That sounds boring too.”

  “Let’s do something fun,” I said, and Ryan was already jumping up from the beanbag chair.

  “This is why I’ve chosen you as my soul mate, Allie. What did you have in mind?”

  Chapter 7

  Allie:

  * * *

  “This is completely against the rules,” Ryan said. “I love it.”

  “Aren’t you an RA?” Gavin questioned him.

  “Yeah, for the hall two floors above us.” He attempted a southern drawl as he held up his bright green water gun. “This ain’t my territory ‘round these parts.”

  I did my best impression of a cowboy and by that; I meant I did a mediocre impression of a cowboy. “I reckon somebody ought to claim this land.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes at us, refusing to play along with the accent. “I reckon you both are crazy.”

  “Partner, you thinking what I’m thinking?” Ryan asked, but I ignored his plan to gang up on Gavin.

  I shot at Ryan with my water gun, soaking his shirt. He fell to the floor, faking his death.

  “Why, Allie May?” He grasped at his wet shirt. “I thought we were in this together.”

  “The life of a lone ranger is the only life I kn
ow.”

  Gavin sprayed water at me and claimed the dorm hallway for himself.

  We ran around, shooting each other, hiding behind doors or trashcans, using posters as shields, and pausing when people had to pass us in the hallway to get to their rooms. A couple of people looked annoyed, but most were amused and asked to join in the fun. After half an hour, we were a group of six, forming alliances and taking down other groups.

  “All for one and one for all!” a boy named Anthony shouted, and we charged at the other team.

  Then Nate walked into the hallway.

  And everything fell apart.

  I stopped running the second I saw him, but my sandals slid in the water on the floor, resulting in me falling hard on my back and landing on a harsh angle on my leg. “Ow!” My spine throbbed, but nothing compared to the searing pain in my calf and ankle. “Shoot.”

  “Allie!” I did not know who said it first, but Nate and Ryan bent down next to me at the same time. Gavin landed there a second later.

  “What hurts?” Nate inquired.

  “My leg and my ankle.” And my pride. “Please tell me I didn’t break something.”

  Nate trailed his electrifying hand over my leg. Though it hurt, his touch distracted me as tingles spread wherever his warm fingers met my skin. I sent a silent prayer up as thanks that I had shaved my legs the night before. “You didn’t break anything,” he said, caressing the red area and scanning every inch of it. “But you might have a sprain.”

  “Is it fatal? Tell me the truth.”

  Ryan and Gavin smiled, but Nate’s shoulders did not relax. “I see you still have your sense of humor,” Nate commented, his gaze flicking to mine. “You’ll need that in the afterlife.” Was he…going along with my joke?

  “So you’re saying I am going to die from this?” I asked, the small excitement of seeing Nate turn playful eating away at me.

  “I’m saying if you ever do something like this again, I’ll kill you myself.”

  My eyes widened at him, and a genuine laugh croaked its way out of my throat. Loud and awkward and real. At the sound of it, even Nate’s teasing lips curled a bit at the edges. Yes, please smile.

  Nate stood up and held his hand out for me.

  Ryan mimicked his action. “Here, I can—”

  I reached for Nate, but after putting a bit of weight on my leg, I sank back down in pain. “You know what, I’m just going to stay here until the Grim Reaper finds me. Thanks for all your help though.”

  “It hurts too much to stand on?” Nate asked, concern etched on his face, but some darker emotion lurked beneath his eyes. It looked like anger.

  “What is standing if not tall sitting?”

  “That made zero sense,” Gavin said, betraying our friendship.

  Nate bent down and scooped an arm under the hook of my legs. “Put your arms around my neck.” I followed his instruction, and he lifted me into the air. My side met the hardness of his taut pecs and warm chest.

  Hello there.

  “Um, I don’t like this,” I commented, but my nerves had nothing to do with the arousal pumping through my body at being held by him. People picking me up had never ceased to freak me out. “Please put me down.”

  “I’m not going to drop you.” His serious eyes locked onto mine. With my ear pressed against his chest, his every heartbeat vibrated into me. Steady. Strong. Perfect. “I promise.”

  Every tense muscle in my body eased. How did he do that?

  “I’m taking Allie to the health clinic,” Nate told everyone. “Ryan, clean up this mess before someone else falls and hurts themself.”

  “I can take Allie—”

  “What did I just say?” Nate’s harsh voice took on a threatening tone. His entire face transformed into a menacing glare so deadly my pulse stopped at seeing it. “Clean this place up.”

  “I will, but I’ll take her to—”

  “How could you let this happen?” Nate questioned him. Loudly. Gavin and the few people still holding water guns flinched and had retreat written across their faces. “Water guns are against the rules. You know that. You are an RA.”

  “There are so many rules.” Ryan shrugged. “We just wanted to have fun.”

  “Does she look like she’s having fun?”

  I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say.

  “You’re supposed to be responsible,” Nate scolded him.

  Ryan shot me a guilty expression before breaking eye contact and staring at the ground. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

  “It was my idea,” I said, but Nate would not listen to me.

  “Give me a reason why I shouldn’t write you up for this,” Nate demanded.

  Ryan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Because I’m your friend.”

  They stood there, Nate still holding me, and studied each other in silence. Then Nate turned and walked me to the exit of the dorm.

  “Don’t write Ryan up. It was my idea.”

  He did not look down at me as he carried me. Instead, he kept his gaze straight ahead. “Why is it you’ve been involved in every incident so far this semester?”

  “That depends on your definition of an incident.”

  He stepped outside, and several people looked over at us. Never seen a girl carried before? Though, to be fair, they could have been gaping at Nate’s muscles. I fought the urge to nibble on them. The urge was strong.

  “I’m sorry about everything.”

  His arms tightened around me as most of the anger seeped from his face. “You do and say things without thinking them through. It’s who you are.”

  “I’m still sorry.”

  “Thank you,” he said, still staring straight ahead instead of at me. “On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?”

  I puckered my lips in contemplation. “I’ve always hated that question because it doesn’t take into account that some people have never experienced level ten pain, so their eights are really fives.”

  This time he did look down at me. “Have you experienced level ten pain?”

  “Level nine, sure. But who can say what a ten is before they’ve felt one?”

  A wave of surprise and contemplation washed over his features. He closed his eyes for a second, then shook his head. A snort escaped him.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You do these wildly immature things, then say something deep and profound.”

  “I have layers.”

  “Like a taco dip,” he said.

  “But less cheesy.”

  “And a lot spicier.”

  A grin stretched my face until I winced in pain.

  His good mood dropped, and he walked with longer strides after that. “We’ll be there in two minutes.”

  “How can you carry me like this?” Sure, he had muscles to spare. I dreamed of worshipping his chest in just about every way possible.

  “I go to the gym every day.”

  Note to self: Buy more water guns. Get some taco dip. Go to the gym.

  The waiting room of the health clinic was full when we got there. Nate helped me sign in, then found me a chair to sit in, the last available one. He stood beside me as an awkward silence wrapped around us like a warm, itchy blanket.

  Was he going to stay the whole time? What if it took hours? He could not stand there for hours. “You sure you don’t want my seat to sit down?” I offered.

  “Allie, you’re the one who can barely stand. I’m fine.”

  “If you need a seat, you can have mine,” a girl near us said. She smiled at him; “hi, handsome” sparkled in her hazel eyes. “That way you can sit next to your girlfriend.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” Nate responded with cheetah speed.

  The girl’s smile grew. “Oh.”

  I did not like that at all. “He’s such a tease.” I placed a hand on his chiseled chest, which was an odd and difficult thing to do in my seated position. “He always tells strangers we’re not dating.” I patted his stomach, which was easier to reach than his h
eart. Damn, now that is a hard, flat stomach. Bonjour, abs. Nice to make your acquaintance. “This one likes to make me jealous.”

  The girl appeared as confused as Nate. “So, you two are together?”

  “No,” he said.

  “There he goes again.” I faked a laugh. “Sweetie, you’re going to confuse the girl.” I whispered over to her, “It’s a game we play. He takes it too far.”

  “Um, okay.” She gathered her belongings and stood. “You can just take my seat.” She walked to the other side of the room, and I waved goodbye like a good Samaritan.

  Nate narrowed his eyes on me as he sat down. His arm brushed against mine on the armrest before he shifted his arm off the armrest. “What was that about?”

  “Just a bit of fun.”

  He nodded and picked up one of the magazines from the coffee table. “I think you were jealous.”

  Me? Jealous? Of her? Over him? I scoffed several times, one or two too many. “Just because I find you hot doesn’t mean I would date you.”

  “Good, because I don’t date.”

  “Like ever? Not even nonresidents?”

  “Never.”

  So he did fear creating a bond with someone. Did he have a bond with anyone? “That’s sad.”

  He flipped through the magazine on luxury living and shrugged. “It’s the way it has to be.”

  “Why?”

  He rolled his eyes. He hated it when I asked why.

  “You know you don’t have to sit with me the whole time. I’ll be fine.”

  He did not respond. Instead, he picked up a magazine on fashion and handed it to me. It took an hour before the doctor saw me. Our arms touched on the armrest the entire time.

  “Did I mention how sorry I am?” Ryan texted me. “I’ll make it up to you at dinner. I saved you one of the last pieces of cheesecake.”

  Me: “It’s not your fault I fell. Besides, I’m on crutches for like two days. I’m fine.”

  By the time I limp-hopped my way to the dining hall, I found Ryan eating and walked—hopped—over. He saw me and grinned, then frowned with guilt as he saw my crutches.

  “Hey!” I enjoyed talking to Ryan. Though his need for attention was evident, I liked that there was never a dull moment in the conversation. Eating with him and Gavin helped me feel more at home at Beckett University.