Put Me Back Together(7)

I moaned, just as Em had this morning, though I was pretty sure I felt a lot worse right now.

Cello Girl and a few of her friends were leaning over me, asking if I was okay. One of them held out a hand to help me up and I was about to take it, my cheeks already reddening at the spectacle I’d made, when I felt a strong pair of arms pulling me up from behind. All of a sudden Cello Girl and her girlfriends were all smiles.

I felt warm breath by my ear, sending delicious shivers down my spine. “If you wanted to get away from me that bad, you could have just said so,” he whispered.

I spun around to find Lucas looking down at me with some concern. He had a hold of me by both arms, but my legs were still a little weak from my fall and I faltered, pressing both my hands into his chest for balance. Even through his coat I could feel the firmness of his muscles and my mind drifted suddenly to the view of his chest I’d gotten the night before. I was still short of breath, but all of a sudden it was for a completely different reason.

He leaned toward me and I found myself staring once again at his lips and his strong jaw and his warm eyes and his lips…

“You okay?” he said to me. I had the feeling he’d said it a few times already.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I did a little pain check. Nothing major—no broken bones at least, though my back was still throbbing. I glanced around to find every eye within a twenty-foot radius staring in my direction as I stood in the middle of campus swooning in Lucas Matthews’s arms. They might not have been all that interested in me before, but they sure as hell were now.

Perfect.

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing the snow off of my bag and jacket, trying my damnedest not to meet anyone’s gaze, especially Lucas’s. “I’m going to be late for class.”

He let go of my arms but moved a hand to my shoulder. He was still standing incredibly close to me. I was going to have to talk to him about personal space, I really was. Except, for some reason, I didn’t really mind him invading my space the way I did with everybody else. I didn’t really mind it at all.

It made me want to punch him in the face.

Pulling away from him, I stalked up to the door and yanked it open, wincing as I felt a muscle in my back twinge. Not surprisingly, the door stayed open because Lucas was right behind me holding it open.

“You have snow in your hair,” he said and I felt him tugging at the bottom of my dark curls, his hand lingering on my back. All my senses suddenly zeroed in on that hand.

I swatted it away.

“Look, Lucas,” I said, “I don’t want to be mean or anything. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression—”

“Like when you called me a hottie?” he asked. “Like that impression?”

He was smirking at me. I narrowed my eyes.

“I just really need to focus on my work. I’m not looking to make any new friends right now. Especially not right now.”

“Why? What’s so special about right now?”

“Don’t change the subject,” I said. We’d reached the door to the art studio and I stopped there, crossing my arms. “I think it would be better if you just left me alone. I’ll take care of the thing with the cat. I really just want you to go away. Okay? Just go.”

“Sure, Katie,” he said. “If you want me to leave you alone, that’s what I’ll do.”

My eyes strayed to his face. He didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that I was basically giving him the brush off. He’d taken off his coat and I could feel the heat coming off of him, right through his shirt. Why did guys always give off heat like they were a furnace? All of a sudden I was sweltering.

He added, “Although it might be a little difficult, considering—”

“Considering what? There’s nothing to consider. Just go to your class and I’ll go to mine,” I said, scowling at him. Why wouldn’t he just go already?

He leaned against the locker beside me, watching me with curious eyes. His expression was soft, like a caress, and I felt my resolve beginning to buckle.

Then I thought of the news report and squared my shoulders, purposely trying to bring out the pain in my back. Pain was good. Pain was a reminder.

He wasn’t budging, so I decided to move instead. For some reason my hand was trembling as I pulled open the classroom door.


“Goodbye, Lucas,” I said without turning around.

“Goodbye, Katie,” he replied with a mysterious smile on his lips.

Breathing a sigh of relief—although it sort of felt a little bit like regret at the same time—I made my way around the studio to my easel in the corner. Most of the other students were already present and Professor Wilkins walked in just as I put my bag down. This was good. This was my favourite class. This would help me refocus, forget about the news report, forget about campus hotties and cats and the date that loomed on my calendar, the one that was distracting me more and more these days.

As I was setting up my canvas, a guy stepped up to the easel next to mine. I glanced up, ready to tell him that spot was normally taken by a girl named Naomi, when my mouth fell open. The guy standing next to me looked very familiar, and by the way he was handling the paints and brushes I could tell he’d been in the class all semester. I watched him adjusting the height of his easel. Then he looked over at me and grinned in a self-satisfied way, putting his dimples on full display.