Reckless (26 page)

“Don’t worry about her,” Hunter mumbled to me after the professor had walked out of earshot, startling me out of my reverie, “She’s always like this.”

“And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” I scoffed.

He chuckled. “You’re cute when you get all intense like this.”

I rolled my eyes and turned around.

He was still standing behind me.

“Shouldn’t you be modeling or something?” I said over my shoulder.

“Oh, did you want a better look? Let me take my robe off…”

“Can you wait until you’re on the stand?” I pleaded. “Then the professor can have you all to herself.”

He chuckled and walked back to the dais, taking his robe off halfway to it like he owned the place. But we both knew this was Marjorie’s boudoir, not mine.

Luckily, for the remainder of class, Professor Bitch left me alone. I was able to focus strictly on improving my sculpture.
 

Much to my surprise, sculpting class, which was supposed to be a welcome relief from Managerial Accounting, was making me increasingly uncomfortable. I was irritated that Hunter had forced me into a suicidal love triangle between him and Professor Voodoo, and I wasn’t even interested in him.

I had Christos.

My feelings for Christos were unbreakable. So why did Hunter have to force himself on me? His eyes were always on me, no matter where I was in the room, with the exceptions of the times that I was behind him. I was glad he was stuck in his pose and couldn’t turn around. If the professor hadn’t been there, I’m sure he would have, and blown off the entire class just to hit on me.

Whatever.

I was thankful when Hunter finally put his robe on at the end of class. I was so done.

With any luck, I’d be able to squeeze out the door without Hunter or the professor jumping all over me.

SAMANTHA

While quickly packing my supplies, Romeo came over to my sculpting station. We walked out together.
 

Luckily, Hunter was busy talking to Professor Bittinger, but that didn’t stop him from staring at me as I passed them by.

“Laters, Sam,” Hunter said over his shoulder.

Professor Bittinger frowned at me.
 

I’m surprised she didn’t hiss at me and bare her teeth. With any luck, maybe Marjorie would have an affair with Hunter and get herself thrown out of SDU for sexual harassment. I wouldn’t be the one to say anything if they did. With my new financial predicament, I had too many problems of my own to worry about, but maybe some of the other students might get uncomfortable enough with Hunter’s blatant behavior to file a complaint against both of them.

Romeo and I walked out of the Visual Arts building into the Eucalyptus grove outside.

“That guy was
hot!
” Romeo moaned.

“I guess,” I replied reluctantly.

“Oh, come on, Sam. You were drooling too.”

“I was not!” I protested. I really wasn’t. Why did I feel guilty all of a sudden? Looking at the model was part of class. So what if class consisted of staring at a naked guy. Who was hot.
 

Was I a bad girlfriend because I could see that Hunter was attractive? I didn’t think so. It was just an observation. It didn’t mean I was attracted
to
him.

Romeo narrowed his eyes. “But you have to admit he was a Grade-A Meat Monster.”

“What’s a meat monster?”

“Didn’t you see his package?”

“Not really,” I smirked.

“You’re such a bullshitter, Sam. He was hanging out like an elephant trunk the entire time. I would totally be that guy’s dick sharpener.”

I giggled. “Dick sharpener?”

Romeo nodded coyly.

“Who was hanging out?” Hunter asked, jogging up behind us, all smiles. He wore a black collarless polo shirt with white detailing around the throat. It was unbuttoned, revealing the muscles of his neck and the defined ridges of his chest. The sleeves were bunched up, showing off his rippled forearms and several different gold and silver bracelets. Dark jeans and expensive dark suede shoes completed his look. Hunter dressed to impress as purposefully as he undressed to impress.

Romeo gulped. “Ahhh…” He was swooning.

“Hey, Sam,” Hunter said. “What’re you guys up to?” He was looking right at me.

“Ahh, I’m heading home. I’ve got tons of homework to do,” I said apologetically.

“Do you need a ride?” Hunter asked.

“No, thanks. I drove myself.”

“Well, what’re you doing later, for dinner?”

“More homework,” I said.

“I’m free,” Romeo tittered.

Hunter was thrown off by Romeo’s comment. His smile dimmed, but then he shook it off. “When
are
you free, Sam?” Hunter asked.

“Probably never?” I said reluctantly.

“I doubt that,” he smiled.

I stopped in my tracks and looked Hunter in the eyes. “I have a boyfriend, Hunter.” That should do the trick, right? Lay it all out on the table so there’s no confusion.

“So?”

I frowned. “Hunter, I’m in a relationship.”

“I’m not,” Romeo said.

Hunter frowned at Romeo again before looking back at me. “Are you serious about this guy?”

“Of course I’m serious!” I protested. “That’s why he’s my boyfriend.”

Hunter cocked a thumb at Romeo. “You don’t mean him, do you?”

That was actually funny. I chuckled. “I mean my
other
boyfriend.”

“You have more than one?” Hunter asked. “Because I can be number three. Third time’s the charm, right?” he flashed his swoon-worthy smile.

He was charming, all right. And by the looks of him, he could have any woman he wanted. So why me? He was wasting his time. I was in love with Christos, and that was that.

I decided my best strategy with Hunter was to remain silent.

Hunter followed me and Romeo out of the Eucalyptus grove.

Minutes later, we were passing Tiffany, who was still camped on the side of the main pathway. Did she even have any classes? She was holding court with her two satanic hobot minions as I passed. No matter. She was the perfect distraction. Her smile faded when she saw me.
 

I stopped suddenly in my tracks. Romeo nearly knocked me down as he stumbled to a stop.
 

Hunter swerved, but kept his balance. “I see you changed your mind,” he smiled cockily.

“Tiffany,” I said, smiling merrily, “meet Hunter Blakeley.”

She took one look at him and her frown was gone. But then it was back. She looked between me and Hunter. “Is this some kind of a joke?” she scoffed.

“No,” I smiled, “Hunter is totally in need of a date, and I thought you two might hit it off. Hunter, this is Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse. She’s a great girl—” yes, I almost gagged when I said it, “—and I think you two ought to get to know each other.”

“Did she put you up to this?” Tiffany glared at me suspiciously.

Hunter was thrown off his game. He was obviously checking Tiffany out. I couldn’t blame him. Tiffany was very good looking. On the outside. Her insides looked like a sewer, based on my experiences with her. And I wasn’t talking about her colon. I meant her personality. Tiffany was one of those girls who wanted the world to believe that when she went number two, rose petals sifted out. Well, what really came out and fell into the toilet bowl was her personality. You know what I mean.

“No,” Hunter said to Tiffany, “I, we just met. Samantha and I.”

“Who?” Tiffany said.

“I thought you guys knew each other?” Hunter asked, confused.

“Her?” Tiffany sneered. “I think she scrubs toilets around campus. Yeah, that’s where I’ve seen her.”

I was right. Tiffany and toilet bowls went hand-in-hand. Maybe I needed to start thinking of her as Tiffany Kingcolon-Shithouse.

“Enjoy!” I waved to Tiffany and Hunter before hurrying off, pulling Romeo behind me.

“Wait, Sam!” Romeo said. “He’s totally staring at us!”

“I don’t care, let’s just go.”

“But what if he’s staring at
me
?!” Romeo whined.

“I doubt it.”

“You think he wants
both
of us?” he gasped hopefully.

“No, I think he just wants to add another notch to his belt.”

“I’ll be his notch!” Romeo pleaded.

“Shut up, Romeo!”

With any luck, Tiffany and Hunter would tear each other to shreds like ravenous predators. Because that’s what they both were.

I shuddered as I wondered what kind of babies they might make. Velociraptors and Sabertooth Tigers, look out! The Kingston-Whitehouse-Blakeley Boys are in the house!

Somehow, I thought if Tiffany and Hunter
did
hit it off, it would be the end of the human race. What had I done?

Romeo had section to go to for one of his theater classes, so we parted ways for the afternoon.
 

As I walked to my car, I half-expected Hunter to pop up out of nowhere and pressure me to go out with him again. Thankfully, he wasn’t around.

Unless he was watching me from the bushes with some of those infrared goggles that serial killers liked to use when stalking innocent college coeds.

Okay, wrong train of thought.

I walked across the gigantic parking lot.

Alone.

SAMANTHA

On the way to my car, my phone rang. It was Christos. “Hey, you!”

“
Agápi mou
! So good to hear your voice. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“You have?” I beamed.

“Of course. You are my everything. What else would I be thinking about?”

I sighed, “I love you, Christos.”

“I love you too. Hey, guess what?”

“You’re even more beautiful this evening than the last time I laid my eyes on your perfection?” He sounded like he was smiling, “No, I don’t think that’s possible.”
 

“I found a job today!” I said.

“Sweet! I knew you would, Samantha. Doing what?”

“Working at the campus art museum at the cash register.”

“Congratulations! You’re diving right into the art world,
and
getting paid. Remember what I said about your parents not knowing about all the opportunities out there?”

“You were right,” I smiled.

“I think we should celebrate.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“You coming over to my grandfather’s house. I’ll make you dinner. All you’ll have to do is sit back and relax while you keep me company.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“Perfect. Get your fine ass over here.”

I dropped my cell phone in my purse and walked down the aisle in the parking lot toward where my VW was parked.

I sensed a car approaching me slowly from behind. I angled toward the side, giving the car plenty of room to pass. The driver honked the horn twice. What the hell? There was plenty of room for them to drive around me. Whatever. I kept walking.

The car pulled along beside.

“Hey, beautiful,” the driver said.

I’d spoken too soon.

Hunter Blakeley grinned from his convertible Porsche Boxster. He wore aviator sunglasses that looked like they were used in conjunction with his car to stalk innocent college coeds and coerce them into his clutches.

He wasn’t fooling me. I smirked at him.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

I raised my eyebrows skeptically. I was so not playing into his flirtatious game.

His arm rested casually on the steering wheel as his car rolled along beside me at two miles an hour. “I’m hurt, Sam. I thought we were friends.”

“I barely know you, Hunter.”

“That’s how friendships start. But we have to get past the barely stage before we get to the Blakeley stage.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please tell me you just made that up, because if you’ve used that line on women in the past, there’s zero chance we can be friends.”

He chuckled. “Then I’m in luck. I did in fact just make it up.”

I said nothing and kept walking. Where had I parked my car? Was it like ten miles from here? I sensed Hunter might even follow me all the way home, trying to wear me down the entire way.

Two could play at this game. I turned between two cars and crossed over to another aisle. I smiled at myself. The aisles were so long, it would take him forever to drive around.

Unless he floored it, whipped around the far end of the aisle, and drove down mine.

I sighed and kept walking as his car drove toward me.
 

When his car reached me, he stopped and smiled. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all day.” He said it like it was no big deal. He was totally at ease. This was his sport, and Hunter Blakeley was a total player. I’m sure he’d Gold Medaled in it in London in 2012.

I kept walking.

He put the car in reverse and caught up with me, his car keeping pace with me going backward. “There you are,” he smiled, “almost lost you.”

“You’re going to hit something,” I said dryly.

“Nah, I’ve got my eye on the road.” He stared right at me.

“Not from where I’m standing.” I’d had enough of this. I crossed back over to the aisle I’d just left. I expected him to speed back down the way he’d came.

No, he simply put his car in park and left it idling where it stopped in the parking lot. He hopped over the door and trotted after me. He caught up quickly.

“Hunter, your car is still running, aren’t you worried someone’s going to take it?” I asked.

“Why? The most desirable thing in this parking lot is right here in front of me. I’d rather someone snatch my car instead of you.”

Groan. Was it time to shout rape? He was never going to quit.

Fortunately, I saw my VW a short distance away.

Hunter kept pace with me. “I’ll just walk you to your car. Keep an eye on you.”

I stopped and faced him. “Hunter, I don’t want you to walk me to my car. Can you please just go get your car before you get a ticket or something?”

“I don’t care about getting a ticket. I only care about you.”

Why did that nauseate me? “Hunter, please leave.”

He smiled, completely undeterred. I had a moment to notice that he was amazingly handsome. But I didn’t really care. He would find someone else, I was sure. I turned on my heel and continued to my VW.