His Prize Pupil

Peering across the neighboring yard to the roof, I see that the object whipping around in the wind is a bra. A red polka dot bra tangled up in a weather vane. Imagining scenarios in which it could have gotten there, I giggle and raise my camera, engaging the night settings. I’ve just snapped the photo when the side door bangs open, slamming into the side of the house—and a jolt of surprise causes me to lose my balance.

My shout of surprise is cut off when I hit the ground.

The impact is so jarring, I don’t feel the slicing pain on my shin right away.

In fact, I don’t notice that I’ve landed on a rock and opened up a gash until several people are surrounding me, asking me if I’m alright.

“I…I…” Humiliation wells up in my throat, but I swallow it down with determination and smile through the worsening sting in my leg. “I got the shot?”

There’s a short pause before laughter rings out. But it doesn’t make me feel better. Tears begin to well in my eyes. Nothing feels familiar. I’m bleeding in the backyard of this unfamiliar place and everyone is drunk. And I think the fall might have knocked some of my heartache loose, because I’m suddenly so sad and lonely, I want to curl into a ball.

“Out of the way.”

The brisk voice brings my head up.

No, it can’t be.

Gavin?

Around me, the crowd parts and there he is, looking righteously pissed off. Gorgeously agitated in a hunter green, long-sleeved shirt that has been shoved up to his elbows. And dark jeans that wrap around his thick thighs, highlighting the flexing musculature as he bears down on me. “What the fuck were you thinking?” Gavin growls, scooping me up off the ground with no effort whatsoever. He looks like he’s going to launch into a lecture, but he does a double-take when he spies my leg wound. “Dammit, Alana.”

Oh God.

Oh no, I’m crying.

I almost never do, but he’s here. Before he stomped onto the scene, I was scared and overwhelmed, but I’m not now. I’m safe as houses. And the relief sends tears winding down my cheeks and definitely ruining my makeup, but I don’t care. I lean my head against his shoulder and listen to him sigh, feel his arms tighten around me.

“Someone hand me her camera,” he barks.

One of the girls places my bag in my lap, gently placing the camera on top and I slump when I see the lens is cracked. Gavin carries me through a sea of shocked faces, speculation being whispered in our wake.

Is that Professor Dennison?

Are they, like, together or something?

Thankfully, we turn at the front of the house and those suspicious faces disappear from view. We don’t stop until we’ve reached a low, black Jaguar and Gavin jerks open the back passenger seat door. He settles me carefully on the smooth leather seat.

“This is your car?” I ask, turning to put my things on the seat behind me.

“Yes,” he answers tightly, reaching beneath the seat and pulling out a first-aid kid, dropping it to the asphalt with a clatter and throwing it open.

“It’s expensive.” I think about how much money he dropped on my virginity. “You’re rich, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“From being a professor?”

“Not just.” He rips open an alcohol swab packet with his teeth and uses it to clean my cut, wincing when I suck in a breath. “I made some smart investments with an inheritance I received after graduating college. This is really not the time to talk about it.”

“I’m trying to distract you from being angry at me,” I murmur, wanting desperately to reach out and brush the dark hair off his forehead.

“It isn’t working, Alana.”

“Maybe I’m angry, too. You obviously followed me.”

“Does it really make you angry?” Gavin pauses in the act of dabbing antiseptic on my wound. “Or did you come here tonight simply to find out if I’d follow you?”

Gavin is right. I did, didn’t I?

He told me he’d be watching…and the little girl inside me wanted to be a challenge.

And he came through. He didn’t let me down. He’s kneeling in front of me in the middle of the night, his hands purposeful as they fix my injury.

It doesn’t mean he wants to be with me, but it’s something.

The reality check shoots my heart into my throat and the heat is back behind my eyes, pushing, demanding to be let out. Gavin looks up in time to watch my lip tremble, a single tear coursing down my cheek. The irritation fades from his eyes and he moves, lifting me from the seat and taking my place, settling me down sideways on his lap and tucking my head beneath his chin. “Shhh, princess.” He rubs a continuous circle onto my back, his lips in my hair—and he rocks me, side to side in a lulling motion. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”