Birthday Girl (The Student Union Series Book 1) Page 4

  Zach smiled. “Well, in that case.” He held his hands out to me, and I took them. His fingers curled around mine, and I never wanted him to let go. He pulled me to my feet. “I understand what you’re saying, and I respect it. But just out of curiosity, if I were to show up outside your window with a boom box, what song would you like me to play?”

  “What, not an acoustic guitar?”

  “Wow, that’s not a good idea.”

  “You could pull off the sensitive hipster singer-songwriter, but you’d need to borrow a flannel from me.”

  “That sounds very romantic,” said Zach. “I’m here to serenade you, but first, can I borrow a shirt?” I laughed and squeezed his hands tighter. “See you at study group tonight?”

  I nodded, and grudgingly let his hands go. “Bust a Move,” I called after him.

  “What?”

  “The song. ‘Bust a Move.’ Most romantic song I know.”

  11

  At dinner, I sat down next to Sierra and elbowed her. “How was your morning?”

  She twirled up a forkful of spaghetti. “Fucktacular. Why?”

  “I dropped by and you were, well, I don’t know if you were getting started or finishing. But it was loud.”

  “Are you expecting me to be ashamed? It’s me, Sierra, not my Mormon clone. I’m sure Trevor was balls-deep when you came by, but I’m also sure he wouldn’t have minded if you came in.”

  “Sierra, for the last time, I am not going to be part of a three-way with you.”

  “Good, because I’m not serious.” She chewed some spaghetti. “Although I’m not not serious. How’s Mr. All-Business?”

  I showed her the texts Zach and I had exchanged during class. “Fuck. Me. This guy wants you so bad. Are you sure you can’t unlock your chastity belt just once?”

  “I’m thinking about it.”

  “What? Brooke Shepard is thinking about actually getting some?”

  I looked up at the wall clock. “Shit, I need to get to study group.”

  “Zach’s going to be there, right? You bring a change of panties?”

  When I got to the study room at 6:55, Jillian and Brian were there, but no sign of Zach yet. I set my books on the table with a thud and flipped open my notebook. “How’s it going?” I asked.

  “Sucky,” said Brian. “Jillian keeps distracting me by being beautiful.”

  “Awww, you’re sweet,” said Jillian, and kissed Brian.

  “I see your relationship has jumped straight to disgusting,” I said. I pulled out my Geology handouts, and on top was the information about the camping trip. It would be an overnight trip to a remote research site in North Cascades National Park, and we’d be collecting samples of some of the minerals we’d discussed in class, looking at rock strata, and writing a five-page paper based on the trip. I was looking forward to it. It was too far to drive home to Seattle on the weekends, but the campus just seemed the same, day after day. Plus, I’d heard the park was beautiful, and I’d never been there.

  Zach showed up about fifteen minutes in. I gave him a hard stare. “Thanks for dropping by.”

  “I didn’t realize I was the kingpin of this operation.” He withdrew his books carefully from his briefcase. I sat as far as I could from Zach, scooting my chair over until I bumped Jillian’s foot with it.

  “Ow!” she said. “Brooke, what the fuck?”

  “Sorry. Just antsy about the test, I guess.”

  By the time we’d checked off every item on the two-page study guide, the paper was strewn with scribbled notes, pencils, flopped-open textbooks, and cans of Coke that Brian had smuggled, in violation of the rule against food and drink in the library. It was 9:45, and the quad was clear of snow. Now it was just fucking cold. Even with my parka, I was dreading the ten-minute walk from the library to my dorm. So after Jillian and Brian headed out, arms snuggled into each other’s jackets, I put my stuff away as slowly as possible.

  “You’re pissed at me,” said Zach. “I get that, but I have no idea why. Because I was a few minutes late to study group?”

  “Because,” I said, zipping my backpack so firmly that the zipper popped open and I had to painstakingly coax the zipper pull back down. Another point in favor of briefcases, I guess. I looked at Zach. He was wearing a pink dress shirt today, with a gray blazer. No tie. He’d trimmed his beard today, I thought, and shaved, and the lines along his beard were perfectly even and crisp.

  Zach closed his briefcase and latched it with a loud snap. “You’re really hard to get along with, you know that?”

  “You would say that.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means...” I put my hands on my hips. Why was I so angry with Zach all of a sudden? He knew I was into him, and he still showed up late, like he didn’t care about catching an extra twenty minutes with me. Oh, god, what was happening to me? “It means you’re handsome, and you know it, and so you expect every woman to fall all over you like fucking Ashley Weaver or those first-years at the workshop. And the moment a woman doesn’t just turn to Jell-O the second you show up at study group, in your mind that makes her a bitch. Or ‘hard to get along with,’ which is the polite way of saying ‘bitch.’”

  “So I’m just an asshole, then? Thank you for the free therapy session,” he said. “That’ll save me the seventy-five dollars I was going to spend to see Dr. Clark this week.”

  “You go to therapy?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why?”

  “None of your business.” He took a step toward the door, then turned back. “Look, you’re probably right about me. I’m not your type. You need someone who appreciates good coffee and dresses like a lumberjack. That’s what you’re looking for, right?”

  “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” I admitted, slumping in my chair. Right now I wasn’t looking for anyone. But if I had to make a list, I’d say I was looking for somebody smart, a good conversationalist, good-looking. Preferably a guy who wouldn’t fuck my roommate. Which was easy this year, since I lived in a single.

  Zach sat back down next to me. “The thing is, Brooke, it’s your charms that are the problem.” He took one of my hands and rubbed it between his. “Is this okay?” he asked.

  “You’re supposed to ask first,” I said, biting my lip. “Weren’t you paying attention at our workshop? But yeah, it’s okay.” Oh, god, it was more than okay. It was clear from the way Zach was sliding his thumb against my palm that he was good with his hands. Probably had a lot of practice, but I tried to put that out of my head. When I looked into Zach’s eyes, it was easy to clear my mind. The sadness that always showed on his face seemed to ease.

  “I really like you,” he said. “But it’s not just because you’re beautiful. You’re sophisticated, and you care about the world, and—”

  “Shut up,” I said. His knee had sidled up against mine, and my skin felt tight and hot again. My mouth had gone dry. And, I could try and spout a euphemism about how my core was throbbing or my womanhood was on fire, but the fact is, my pussy was getting wet. I took my other hand, the one not nestled deliciously between Zach’s, and brought it to his face. I touched his beard, and it felt as lush and masculine as I’d imagined. When I let my finger fall from his mustache onto his lips, he kissed my fingertip and flicked his tongue over it, and my body shuddered. “I want to kiss you now,” I said weakly. “Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” said Zach. He smiled. “That’s okay.” I brought my mouth to his, and his lips were firm. When they parted, I slipped my tongue tentatively into his mouth, and he kissed me back with an intensity that I hadn’t expected. He tasted like spearmint and coffee, and I pressed my mouth against his so hard it almost hurt. His hands released mine, and I threw my arms around him and pulled him against me, pressing my breasts into his chest. He moaned into my mouth and pulled me in even closer. I climbed onto his chair, onto his lap, and I could feel his hardness against me.

  “Can I asked you something?” I whispered.

&nbs
p; “Anything.” He kissed my cheek.

  “The other day, at the pool...did you have a hard-on?”

  He laughed and kissed me again. “What do you think?”

  I sank down onto his lap and felt his hard cock pressing insistently between my legs. “I think you did.”

  “I had to run to the locker room,” said Zach. “It was going to start sticking out of my suit.”

  “Because of Ashley?”

  “I think you know the answer.” He stared at the juncture of my v-neck tee. “May I kiss you right here?”

  “God, yes.” And then his lips were on my cleavage, his tongue exploring the thin line between my breasts. I leaned forward to press my chest against his face, and the chair started to tip. “Oh, shit!” I screamed as the chair went over, flipping Zach backwards onto the rug, where I landed on top of him. His briefcase went flying off the table with us, scattering papers. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

  “Mmm,” said Zach, his face smothered by my boobs. I sat up just enough for him to say, “Never better.” He kicked the chair away, and I straddled him on the floor and kissed him again, harder and deeper, my skirt fanned out, grinding the sopping fabric of my panties against the rigid shaft underneath his jeans. Now I understood where Sierra was coming from: sometimes a girl’s just gotta have it.

  “Would it be okay if I took my bra off?”

  He looked me in the eye. “There’s literally nothing I want more. But what if someone comes in?”

  I looked around. Oh, right. The library. Who was I? I carefully disentangled myself from Zach and stood up, smoothing out my skirt. That bump on my knee was going to turn into a bruise. I held out my hand to help him up, and as he rose to his feet, he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it.

  “You want help with your stuff?” I asked.

  Zach piled the papers back into his briefcase and smiled. “I’ve got it under control.”

  “You want to come back to my room?”

  12

  In the morning, I texted Sierra. Kick Trevor out of bed and meet me for breakfast. IMPORTANT!!!

  “Oh my fucking GOD,” she said. I showed her the bruise. “In the library? That’s like...I’ve never even done that! How far did you go?”

  “Not very,” I admitted. “Just a lot of kissing.” And grinding my body against his, and the wonderful tickle of his beard against the tops of my breasts.

  “And you took him back to your room, and...” Sierra was shoveling corn flakes so eagerly, I hated to let her down.

  “And we kissed goodnight outside my door and agreed to get a good night’s sleep before the midterm and see each other later today.”

  Sierra choked on her corn flakes. She sat back, flinging a mass of red hair over her shoulder. “You agreed? What does that mean?”

  “It means he suggested maybe—”

  “He suggested? Oh, shit. This is bad.”

  I looked down at my cereal bowl, where the marshmallows in my Lucky Charms had grown soggy and indistinct around the edges. “What’s the problem?”

  “You had that guy ready to fuck,” said Sierra. “If he changed his mind...I don’t know. Talk to him.”

  As she was talking, my phone buzzed. Morning, beautiful. What are you up to? I showed it to Sierra. “Or maybe he just really needed some sleep.”

  “Gimme that,” said Sierra, and snatched my phone away.

  “What are you doing? Give that back!” I lunged for the phone, but Sierra was too quick. She tapped out a brief message and handed it back. I looked at the screen and cringed.

  Playing with my pussy, thinking of you.

  “Sierra! I don’t even talk like that!” Sorry, Sierra stole my phone! Delete! Delete!

  The blinking dots hung there for a minute. Too bad. I was hoping it was true.

  Me: I’m at the dining hall. But if I weren’t....

  Zach: [crazy-eyes emoji]

  The geology test was as tough as Professor Radford had promised. The multiple choice section went okay, but then there was a one-page essay about subduction zones, and I wasn’t sure whether I got any of the facts right. To make matters worse, I kept peeking over at Zach, hoping he’d acknowledge me, but he seemed to be absorbed in the exam. True, his studiousness was attractive, but couldn’t he spare a moment to look my way? I thought about texting him, but (a) phones are strictly off-limits during a test, and (b) desperate much?

  I read over my essay one more time and decided it wasn’t going to get any better. Nobody else had turned in their test yet, and I didn’t want to be the first, so instead of rushing to the front of the room, I pulled out a piece of scratch paper and jotted down a few notes on a subject even more complex than fault lines and tectonic plates: Zach Hutchison.

  Maybe I’m just crushing on Zach because he’s hot and it’s been way too long since I’ve gotten any action. Could be. But there was more to him than that. He seemed...thoughtful. Cascade was too small to have fraternities, but most guys on campus acted like stereotypical frat boys anyway and did their best to treat women like pieces of meat. Zach seemed different. He spoke softly. He didn’t rake his eyes over other women while talking to me. He dressed well, at least in a Mad Men kind of way.

  On the other hand, Evan had seemed like a nice guy too. I mean, in retrospect there were signs I missed. He called me “babe,” and when I tried to explain to him that this was far from my preferred pet name, he acted like I was joking. When we were hanging out his male friends, sometimes I’d say something and he’d give them a look, like, Girls. Am I right? But he also told me he loved me every day, and gave me flowers just because, and everything seemed okay until he gave me the ultimate fuck-you (or should I say the ultimate fuck-Ashley) on my birthday.

  But this was all mental gymnastics. It was the physical ones that were giving me all sorts of feels. If I’d been wearing my swim timer in the study room and his START at the second Zach and I first kissed, it couldn’t have been more than three minutes, and no clothing came off, but it had made every cell in my body vibrate. I’d felt aroused in places I wasn’t used to, like the back of my neck. Even now, thinking back over it, I realized I had my legs crossed and was squeezing my thighs together. Whatever that was, in the library, I wanted more of it. Lots more.

  Mercifully, the bell rang, and I went down from to submit my test. Zach fell in beside me and whispered, “Good morning.” I almost collapsed. Out in the hall, next to the vending machine, he asked me how the test went and said, “Want to discuss it over some caffeinated sludge? I’m trying to build up a tolerance for the stuff.”

  I looked at my watch. “Sorry, I can’t, I need to get to my shift at the Shark. Meet up after?”

  “I have class until 4:30, and then tonight I’m heading home for the weekend. Dinner?”

  13

  I hadn’t lied to Zach, exactly. I did have a shift to work, but it didn’t start for another hour. Instead, I read an out-of-date copy of People in the clinic waiting room and learned the names of all of Brangelina’s kids as of 2013. I forgot them as I got my cheek swabbed and peed in a cup, then crossed the lobby to the resource center proper, where my first appointment was with Shannon, a first-year with a common question.

  “I have a crush on my professor,” she said. “I know I shouldn’t, but...I tried to ignore it, and it just keeps getting worse.”

  “That’s really common,” I assured her. “There’s nothing wrong with having a crush, but acting on it can be serious. Have you flirted with him?”

  “Her.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry I assumed.” I pulled a brochure off the shelf. “This outlines school policy on sexual relationships between faculty and students, but as I’m sure you already know, it basically just says don’t do it.”

  “I know that!” said Shannon. “I didn’t come here to be lectured.” She started to cry.

  I took a deep breath and tried to relax. I was bringing my own stress into the counseling office, and that wasn’t fair. “Hey, it’s okay,” I said, hand
ing her a tissue.

  “I just want to know how to make this go away.”

  “Shannon, I think everyone has had a crush on their professor at some point. I certainly have.” Ah, Professor Cheng, English comp. I wish I could have spent every lecture sitting on his lap.

  “But I’ve never had a crush on a woman before!” She leaned against her hand, looking defeated.

  “Oh, okay. Well, that’s normal, too.”

  After I’d talked Shannon down, I went by the mailbox to see if I had any fat envelopes from Harvard. Nothing yet. It was only 3:30, so Zach was still in class, and I wasn’t in the mood for a swim. I thought about swinging by Sierra’s room, but if she was free, she was probably naked with Trevor. So I texted Jillian.

  Me: How was the test?

  Jillian: ROCKS ARE HARD

  Me: I know. Wanna get coffee?

  Jillian: Meet you at Grounds Keeper?

  Jillian stepped up to the counter in front of me and said, “Depth Charge with an extra shot, please.”

  I laughed. “Let me guess. You’re from Seattle? Portland?”

  “Ashland,” she said. “But I didn’t really drink coffee until I started here, and now I drink all the coffee.”

  “So, can I ask you a woman-to-woman question?”

  Jillian sat up straight. “Of course. What’s up?”

  “It’s about Zach.”

  She smiled. “You and him are...right?”

  I shook my head. “I mean, maybe. I don’t know. That’s the question. I’m into him, and I think he’s into me, but...it’s complicated.”

  Jillian pulled out the pencil that was holding her bun in place, reworked the bun, and reinserted the pencil. She had a studious look that made her seem immediately trustworthy. “Well, what’s so complicated?”