Wrong For Me

“Nah, I not only have you here to share all your tricks …” He backs me against the counter, and my eyes dart to the door, seeing a few students headed this way. His eyes drop to my lips and then slowly come back to mine. “But I’ve also got a feeling this whole thing will be easier than I thought.”

I eye him. First, because thoughts like that completely contradict everything I assumed he was feeling. No part of this is easy, and it shouldn’t be approached as if it is. Unless, of course, psyching himself out works as motivation for him. And, second, where the hell is this boldness coming from?

I mean, I’m all for it. I’ve pushed the friendship line a thousand times over the years, hoping he’d take the bait, but in the end, he’s never bitten. He’s either never noticed or pretended not to.

But this? Right now? His lower half flush against me as I press against the counter, the curves of his muscles rubbing against my chest, reminding me how thin these damn T-shirts are. This is the bravest side of Rowan I’ve ever seen. I look from his dark hair to his honey eyes.

“You think you’ve got what it takes?” I tease.

He smirks, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah.”

I follow his lead, placing my hands on his upper arms, feeling my way across the cuts of his biceps, and he glances over his shoulder and then back.

“Care to share why?”

With an uneasy chuckle, he licks his lips and steps back as people shuffle in and head down the hall. “I’d better get going. Feel like getting wings tonight?”

I take a deep breath, offering a half-smile. “I wish, Row, but I can’t. I’ll be working late today.”

I do my best to keep the frown off my face, but he just came in hot and blew out with the breeze. A girl needs time to process.

He nods, a deep crease forming across his forehead. “Right. Yeah.” He looks back at me. “You have to work late? You can’t … take anything home and do it there?”

I tilt my head. “This is nothing new; you know that. I work ridiculous hours the first couple of weeks of every new group to smooth out the kinks. It’s the busiest time for me. And, yeah, I could take it home … if I wanted to jeopardize the program.”

“I know, but …” He curses under his breath and then narrows his eyes at me. “Just be smart, Oakley, okay?”

My head pulls back, but I don’t get a chance to ask him what he’s referring to because the alarm sounds, indicating roll call in ninety seconds.

With a shake of his head, he sighs and storms through the door, leaving me standing here wondering what the hell all that was about.Chapter TwoOakley“Hey.”

I look up with a smile. “Hi. Done already?” I glance at the clock, seeing it’s already lunchtime for the recruits.

“Yep. Come eat at my truck with me?”

My shoulders slump. “I wish I could, but I have so much to do. Someone broke the lock off the back door last night, so I’m waiting for the locksmith to get here. I had a company say they could be here in an hour, but I called my dad, and he said I had to wait for a certain guy.” I roll my eyes. “And, apparently, this certain guy will be here when he gets here. I’ll be eating on the clock.”

Rowan scowls at me. “Isn’t that not allowed or something? You’ve gotta eat, Oakley. Come on.”

He seems so adamant; it’s strange.

“Well … considering my dad owns this place, it’s not only allowed, but it’s also mandatory.” I watch him fidget with the strap of his bag. “Everything okay?”

“You coming or not?”

I frown at him. “What’s your issue?”

“Forget it. Look, I wanted to tell you before, but there was never really a good time.”

“Good time for … what?”

He opens his mouth to speak but doesn’t get the chance.

“Should have known. Wherever Rowan is, his shadow is, too.”

A chill runs down my spine as he speaks.

My body freezes, my chest heating.

No. No, no, no …

Rowan frowns, drops his gaze to the floor, and then looks back up with a tight smile. He leans in to kiss my cheek and then uses his middle finger to salute the ass behind me.

On his way to his truck, Rowan glances back three times, frowning, even though he can’t see through the reflective window. But, as soon as he hits the parking lot, he starts chatting with some of his classmates.

With a swallow, I force an unaffected glare on my face and then spin around. But the sassy words I had planned die on my lips the minute my eyes crash into a pair of hunter-green eyes.