Beast Brothers 2

It hurts so much, because he’s broken my heart just like I was afraid he would, but not at all in the way I’d expected. I keep replaying his words and the look on his face at the café, and for the first time I realize that he wasn’t just mad. He was hurt by seeing me with Eric.

The thought of hurting him, even accidentally, makes the ache inside me sharper. And then it hits me, right in the middle of this nightmare — I’m in love with Aidan.

He’s sexy and ridiculously hot, but there’s so much more to him. He’s smart and he’s driven, and down-to-earth even though he’s a local rock god. And he cares about me. I can see it now. I’ve been so angry that he jumped to conclusions and acted like a jealous jerk, but maybe he had reasons.

Feeling like there’s still a chance things could work out between us gives me strength even as I pace helplessly in circles.

In what seems like no time — ten minutes maybe — Aidan comes through the door, his dark hair damp, his expression wary. He meets my eyes briefly, but before we can speak, the admin directs him into the office and closes the door behind him.

r />   I continue my pacing, and less than twenty seconds later hear Aidan’s voice raised in anger. “You what?!” I can’t help but smile to myself. The nerves are still there in full force, but for the first time, I start to think things might work out.

The voices behind the door return to murmurs after that, so I have no idea what’s being said, but I can hear Aidan talking fast and low. Every now and then, his voice gets louder and a word comes through — dedication, opportunity, hard work, outrageous. My anxiety is gradually edged by a warm glow.

Then the office door is flung open and Aidan stalks out. He looks even angrier than he had at the café, and seeing him angry now makes it clear to me that he was more hurt than anything when he saw me with Eric. But right now, he’s furious. He stalks past me without saying a word, or even looking at me.

The VP motions for me to come back in. I give a quick glance over my shoulder as I head back into the office. Aidan’s still in the waiting area, jaw tight, lips flat, nostrils flaring.

When the door is shut once again, Professor Carmichael says, “Miss Paulson, would you be willing to take a quiz, right now, with all of us present?”

“Yes.” My anger gives my voice an icy edge. “Yes, I would.”

The familiar clutch of nervousness grips me, but I imagine Aidan at my side, and it steadies me. The professor gives me paper, pencil, and a calculator, and then asks a question verbally.

I feel all three sets of eyes on me, and their stares, along with the extreme stress of the last twelve hours and lack of sleep, do not make it easy., But Aidan’s calm voice is there in my head, reminding me of tips and formulas.

I work through the first problem, hand it over to Professor Carmichael, and am given two more, one at a time. After I turn in the third one, he nods his head. “These are all correct,” he says, and looking me in the eye, he adds, “I apologize. I’ve never had a student improve this much in the span of half a semester.”

Relief washes over me, but my anger at the injustice isn’t completely gone. “I know students cheat,” I say. “But you can’t treat us like we’re all the same. You could have cost me my scholarship. You could have ruined my college career — my whole future.”

The academic integrity woman breaks in. “Well, there are procedures in place to ensure that doesn’t happen. But things like this have to be investigated.”

“With all due respect, ma’am, you need better procedures.” I turn to my professor. “That’s it, then?”

“Yes,” he says. “Your high score on the final is confirmed, so even with your earlier low marks, you’ll pass.”

“You’re sure, right? I need to be sure, because you took about ten years off my life this morning.”

Professor Carmichael has the decency to look sheepish. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Between your performance on the quiz just now and Mr. Holt’s very forceful defense of you, I’m completely satisfied. You’ve made quite an impression on him, Miss Paulson. And on me.”

I manage — only barely — not to blush. “He was a great tutor,” I say quietly. “But I worked really, really hard, and he knows it.”

“He assured us that was the case,” the Vice Provost says. “We’re sorry to have put you through this. There will be no mark on your record, no record of this at all, in fact. Congratulations on your outstanding improvement.”

The VP stands up and opens the door for me, so I gather my things and leave. Aidan’s waiting near the outer door, still looking pissed off. I’m a little surprised that he’s still there, but I keep my expression and posture formal as I walk toward him.

They trust Aidan, and I know he had a lot to do with them deciding to believe that I didn’t cheat — quiz or no quiz — so there’s no point in making them wonder about our relationship, even a little bit.

Aidan meets my eyes briefly, but he doesn’t say anything or even change expression when I reach him. He turns though, and leaves with me.

“Can we just keep walking for a little while?” I say when we reach the bottom of the steps at the front of the building.

I can feel the tension drawn tight between us, and I hold my breath for his response, but he doesn’t make me wait long.

“Sure,” he says, not breaking his pace. We head across campus, all the words we aren’t saying lying heavily between us. The start of several sentences enter my mind, and I reject all of them. I’m not ready to speak, and I have no idea what to say anyway.