Bad Judgment (12 page)

“Laugh it up. Someday some chick is going to knock you on your ass, and you’re not going to know what the fuck happened.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even know if it’s worth it, man. I mean, she’s gotta be hot, but isn’t this just the challenge? What if you get her and it’s not worth it?”

There’s no way that’s going to be the case, but I don’t tell him that.

“I guess I’m going to find out after I finally get her, won’t I?”

Justine

When I slide into my seat for Advocacy on Tuesday morning, Kristy Horner turns around in her chair and pins me with an accusing glare. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not going to work.”

I pull my laptop out of my backpack and fire it up. If I wait for Kristy to spout her snarky comments first, the slow machine won’t be ready to take notes until five minutes after the lecture starts. I wait until I have my casebook out before I finally reply.

“What are you talking about?”

“Ryker. I heard you two were together last night at Unwired.”

You’d think we’re in high school with how fast word travels these days. And since when does Kristy Horner have friends who study at Unwired? Her posse is solidly Starbucks half-caf, venti whatever-whatever.

I hate that I feel like I have to justify myself to her at all, but this nonsense needs to be nipped in the bud right now.

“We were studying. End of story. No big deal.”

Kristy isn’t a dumb girl, so there’s no blonde stereotype here. She wouldn’t have made it this far if she was. Her gaze is shrewd when she studies me like I’m a science experiment.

“You don’t like him. Everyone knows that. So why, after two years, would you all of a sudden start studying together?”

“Maybe you should ask Ryker.”

“Do you really think I couldn’t get him back anytime I wanted?” Her tone carries the flavor of a threat.

“Maybe for a night. Seems like that’s all he ever wanted you for anyway.”

Her eyes narrow and her mouth pinches into a flat line when I shoot the words back at her.
Direct hit
.

I flip open my casebook to the spot I have marked with a Post-it, and I’m saved from continuing the conversation when Professor Alexander begins his PowerPoint presentation at the lectern.

Kristy turns around, but she’s not going to let this go. It might just be a feeling, but it’s a strong one.

It doesn’t help things at all that Ryker is waiting for me after class and Kristy is ten feet away when he asks, “Are we studying tonight or tomorrow?”

Kristy’s blond hair performs this shampoo-commercial-worthy swing when she pivots around at the sound of Ryker’s voice.

His blue eyes are on me, not missing the constant darting away of mine, and he follows my gaze and looks back with confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Not wanting to have this conversation where she can hear us, I do something that later registers as idiotic—I grab Ryker’s hand and drag him away. Kristy isn’t the only person watching us now.

The first door I come to is the Law Review office. It’s open, but the back interior office door is closed. That means the editor-in-chief is probably in there, but with the noise-cancelling headphones she takes everywhere, she won’t hear us.

Ryker laughs as I shut the door behind us. “What the hell, Justine?”

“One of Kristy Horner’s friends saw us together last night.”

“And that means you need to drag me off to a deserted room to whisper about it? I’m not protesting, don’t get me wrong, but you better be careful or people are going to start to think you actually like me.” His lips curl up in a smirk and he takes two steps toward me, crowding me into the corner.

My breathing hitches as he comes closer, but I force myself to focus on what I was going to say, not how amazing he smells.

“Someone saw us last night.”

He presses a hand against the wall above my shoulder, and only a few inches remain between us.

“So what? Are you ashamed to be seen with me or something?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that. Didn’t you and Kristy . . . I mean . . . don’t you have a thing?”

“A thing?”

“You know . . . casual hookup? Do you really want to piss her off so you can’t go back there? You realize she hates me, right?”

Ryker drops his hand from the wall, steps back, and crosses his arms over his chest. All humor fades from his expression, and his eyes are hard on mine when he finally replies.

“You’re telling me you don’t want her to know we study together so I can preserve some easy fuck? Really? Wow, Justine, good looking out for me, but I can take care of my own shit. Thanks for the concern, but it’s not necessary.” He drops his gaze to the floor before looking back up at me. “How the hell can you be this blind? Why would I be worried about Kristy when I’m trying so fucking hard to get you?”

This time it’s me who stiffens. “We’re studying. That’s it.”

He uncrosses his arms and leans in again before skimming a thumb along my cheekbone. My skin lights up at his touch. “If you think that’s all this is, you’re oblivious.”

I need to put space between us. Not let him kiss me again. But the memory of both times his lips have been on mine are burned into my brain, and my body won’t move.

Instead, I repeat the only words I can seem to conjure. “We’re just studying.”

Ryker drops his hand as his jaw turns to granite. His tone is just as hard. “Tonight. Same place. Same time. I’ll see you there.”

I shake my head. “I have to work until eight.”

“Tomorrow.” His blue eyes blaze. “You’re not getting out of this. We have a deal.”

“I’m not trying to get out of anything.” My words come out flustered. “I just . . . have to work. I can do seven tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll be there.”

“To study,” I remind him.

He steps back, his smirk firmly back in place, and I think he’s going to touch my face again but he looks down at his watch.

Something that feels a lot like disappointment twists through me.
Really, Justine? Calm down.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Justine.”

Justine

I think it’s encoded in my DNA to be early everywhere. Maybe it’s the years of racking up tardy slips when my mom was in charge of getting me to school. The only days I made it on time were the ones I stayed with Gramps. Just one more in a long list of reasons that living with him was a hundred times better than living with my parents.

I’m at the same booth at Unwired we used before, and once I have my laptop set up and my books out, a big form casts a shadow over me. Looking up, I expect to see Ryker with his ready smile and bright blue eyes, but instead I see a vaguely familiar face that I can’t place immediately.

“Hi?” It comes out as a question because he’s looking down at me with an expectant expression.

“I wondered if I’d ever run into you again.”

Okay, so I’ve met this guy before, but I have no idea who he is.

“Umm . . .”

His smile falters. “I’m just going to blame it on a few too many vanilla vodka and root beers that night if you don’t remember me.”

The comment jogs my memory. The bartender. From the night we celebrated at Ziggy’s after finishing up finals. The one who wouldn’t let me pay for my drink.

Details come rushing back, including the memory of me finally saying yes to Ryker, our kiss, my orgasm, and him standing me up the next day.

“Sorry. I guess my memory isn’t quite as good as yours. How are you?” I don’t know what else to say to this guy. He was nice and flirty. I can’t remember if he told me his name or not. My mind is still drawing a blank there.

“No problem. I’m just really good with faces. It’s a bartender thing.”

“I bet.”

“You study here a lot? I’ve just discovered this place, and I don’t know how I missed it for the last couple years.”

His backpack slung casually over one shoulder tells me he’s a student too. “Are you in grad school?”

He shrugs. “Third year of med school. Can’t wait to be done.”

“Oh, wow. That’s gotta be tough.”

With a look at my casebook, he comes to the right conclusion about me. “Law school?”

“Yeah. Third year too, and I can’t wait to be done either.”

“I haven’t seen you around campus, but I guess that makes sense since we’re on opposite sides.”

“True. I don’t venture far from the law school.”

“And you don’t venture out to Ziggy’s very often either.”

I gesture to the pile of books and cluster of highlighters on the table before replying. “I’m more of a studier than a drinker.”

“I can respect that.” He nods to the seat across from me and shifts the backpack on his shoulder. “You mind if I join you? I’ve got some studying to knock out too.”

A deeper voice interrupts before he can slide into the booth. “I mind, Caruthers.”

My head jerks up to see Ryker standing just beyond the bartender. He turns, and I remember that they seemed to know each other that night at Ziggy’s.

Ryker steps between Caruthers and me and leans down to brush a kiss across my cheek. “Sorry, babe. I got stuck at a train crossing. Didn’t mean to be late.”

Ryker

Whatever Justine and I have going, I’m not letting some slick bartender get in my way. The kiss is instinctive and when I pull back, her eyes are wide and soft. I like that look on her.

I don’t spare another glance at Caruthers as I slide in the booth across from Justine and pull out my laptop. He’s already forgotten.

“Well, uh, maybe I’ll see you around. Feel free to stop by Ziggy’s anytime, and I’ll make you a drink on the house.” His words are clearly directed at Justine.

The guy has balls the size of boulders if he’s got no problem hitting on her right in front of me, especially after I just laid my claim in a very obvious way. But I’m not going to waste any more time on him. More than anything, I’m curious to see how she’s going to reply. It’s a test of sorts, given by the universe—one that I’m content to sit back and observe.

“Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but like I said, I don’t spend a lot of time at bars.”

“Then maybe I’ll see you around here again. Have a good one.” Caruthers hefts his backpack higher and gives me a challenging nod that I return out of habit.

I watch Justine as he leaves. Her eyes don’t follow him, which means that even if he wanted to be competition, he isn’t. No, her eyes are on me.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” I reply, even though I know exactly what she’s talking about.

“You kissed me. Like some territorial marking. In public.” Her words are coming in spurts.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Dropping my highlighter between the pages of my casebook, I cross my arms and meet her confused gaze. “Because I wanted to.”

She pushes a thick wave of dark hair over her shoulder, her eyes never leaving mine. “That’s not a reason.”

“It’s all the reason I need.”

“But—”

I cut her off before she can protest. “You could’ve said yes to getting a drink with him, but you didn’t. You know why that is?”

“I don’t know . . . that’s not my scene.”

Uncrossing my arms, I lean forward, my elbows on either side of my casebook. “That might be true, but you said no because we’ve got something happening between us, and you’re going to ride it out just like I am.”