Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men #1)(94)

Such a guy.

He rolled out of bed and left me with a lingering kiss, telling me he’d sit with me at lunch. Then he was gone.

I rushed through my morning ablutions, hoping I’d get to see him before our first class. But no. I slunk into Brit Lit, depressed because I’d missed him. I didn’t even realize Eva was absent from her typical seat next to me until halfway through the hour.

Yikes, I hope her breakup with Alec wasn’t hitting her too hard. She had enough on her plate as it was. I also hoped she hadn’t told her parents about the baby yet. I wanted to be with her, holding her hand when she did, and I hadn’t exactly been available the entire weekend to do much hand holding.

God, I had to be the worst friend ever. I texted her during my free hour, but she didn’t return my call.

I cringed, hoping it was only morning sickness keeping her from checking in and not anger over the fact I had totally blown her off for the past two days.

I thought of Mason all the way through calculus. We’d eventually gotten our math assignment done on Saturday, but I wasn’t sure he’d been able to concentrate very well on his equations. I hoped his being with me didn’t cause him to flunk.

Yes, I was beginning to worry about everything this morning. But something strange had me on edge. A feeling in the air, a freaky premonition that life was going too well. I wasn’t sure what it was. I just seriously wanted it to go away so I could return to the euphoria I’d been dwelling in for the last forty-eight hours.

When I stepped out of class, I automatically glanced around for Mason. Sometimes, we passed each other coming and going here because he had class in this room directly after I did. Today, I really looked forward to brushing by him—wink, wink.

But a familiar face sitting on a bench not far from the doorway stopped me cold. A handful of students walked past, blocking my view, making me panic, because I was sure the vision would be gone when they passed. I told myself my paranoia was getting to me too much today. But after the students moved on, he still sat there, waiting.

For me.

My knees buckled and I had to clutch the wall to support myself. I froze, not sure what to do.

I could scream and run. I could approach him boldly. I could silently try to slip away, hiding behind clusters of people.

But I just stood there, staring at my psycho stalker ex-boyfriend as he leered back with one of his infamous gloating smirks.

“Found you,” he mouthed the words so clearly I could actually read what he said.

I turned away from him, planning to stride off, even though I knew that wouldn’t get me far. But then the worst thing possible happened.

Mason appeared, messenger bag slung over his shoulder as he approached his next class. He grinned when he saw me, a warm, private smile that held all the secrets of our weekend passion.

Oh, God. I loved him so much. I could not let Jeremy near him. Jeremy would kill him if he knew how important Mason was to me.

But nothing was going to stop either guy from approaching.

As Jeremy stood, I reacted before my brain could fully process what I was planning. I hurried to Mason. “Professor McGonagall,” I gasped. “Thank God I ran into you.”

Yes, I know I used a Harry Potter character for him, and a female one at that. But it wasn’t as if I had a whole lot of a time to concoct a foolproof strategy. I was working straight from the hip here. And doing just fine if you ask me.

Besides, Jeremy had never once cared about my Harry Potter craze. He wouldn’t know the difference. The clueless Muggle.

Rushing to unzip my bag, I said, “I know it was due last Friday, but I finished my paper and I would really appreciate it if you’d reconsider accepting it late.”

As I yanked my graded Wife of Bath essay from my bag—which had received an A; boo yah!—I finally dared to look up into Mason’s face.

Biting the inside of my lip, I prayed he would play along.

He blinked once, okay, twice. Then he said, “I told you no late assignments, Miss Randall.”

God, I loved him. He fell right into line with my act perfectly. Then again, by the amused twinkle in his eyes, he probably thought this was some kind of kinky naughty schoolgirl foreplay.

“But I worked on it all weekend.” The little hitch in my voice—because I was all keyed up about seeing Jeremy—sounded classic. Hmm. Maybe I should drop virology completely and take up acting.

Mason lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “All weekend, hmm?” The twist of his lips told me he knew otherwise. “On a paper you were supposed to be working on all semester?”

Jeez, did he have to play it quite this good?

I almost glowered at him. But I was still too freaked out about my psycho stalker ex hovering a mere ten feet away, listening to every word we said.

“Please,” I rasped, the fear filtering through me until his expression finally sparked with concern. “Could you just give it a look?”

He nodded with a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But this is the last time I’ll make allowances for you.”

When he tried to take the paper from me, I jerked it back. “Wait. I…I need to sign my name.”

My hands shook so hard that when I fumbled my way into my backpack, a tear actually dripped from my cheek.

Mason had mercy on me. “Here,” he said, holding out his own pen, his brows wrinkling as if he was finally figuring out this was not a playful, bantering game.