“Are you okay?” Annie whispers in my ear.
“Fine, just daydreaming,” I dodge.
In actuality, I most certainly am not okay. We’re sitting in our shared Art History class. Ransom is front and center, giving a lecture on who-the-hell-cares. I’m too busy trying to sort through everything that happened at his parents’ house yesterday.
I still feel burned over Rebel throwing me under the bus. I don’t know how to feel about Ransom’s reaction to me being a stripper. Sure, logically, I understand why he’s upset. What man would be okay with his girlfriend taking her clothes off for other men? On the flip side, what kind of man is willing to share his girlfriend with his brother until she can decide which one she wants more?
The way I see it, we’re both in precarious positions. So shouldn’t that clear the slate? Make it Even Steven or something?
I press the tip of my pen firmer into the paper. I’ve spent most of the hour doodling instead of taking notes. I should be taking notes. The end of the semester is right around the corner and finals are next week.
“I bet I know who it’s about,” Annie teases. I frown, taking a second to catch her meaning.
“Oh, yeah.” I laugh under my breath, but it’s more out of duty and the need to preserve my privacy than anything. I don’t want Annie knowing about any of this. I know I shouldn’t, but I feel shameful. A part of me still insists that I should have known the difference. Two men. There’s no way in hell they’re that alike just because they share identical genes.
I’ve been over it a hundred times. I know all the times at the club and in the hotel were Rebel. I know all the times in the car and the apartment and in class were Ransom. That’s not the problem. The problem now is, say I do choose one? How will I ever know for sure which brother I’m with? How will I know for sure I’ve even made the right choice? My thoughts are too muddled to be certain of anything right now.
“Hey, Joe? Do you have time after class to hang out?”
Something in Annie’s voice makes me turn to look at her. Her green eyes are downcast, but there’s something about the sudden change in her demeanor that unsettles me. “Sure,” I say automatically. Even though I have to work tonight, I’ll make the time for her because she would do the same for me.
“’kay. Coffee?”
“How about lunch? I skipped breakfast, so I’m starving.”
She smiles. “Yeah, sounds good.”
“Ladies, am I interrupting something?” Ransom’s stern voice cuts through our quiet conversation. He’s stopped his lecture to single us out in front of the whole class. Standing behind his lectern, he eyes me with a critical air that makes me consider throwing up my middle finger.
“No, not at all,” Annie says, her face burning crimson.
“Are you sure? Because if it’s important, I’ll be happy to wait. In fact,” Ransom says, casting his arm out to encompass the room. “Why don’t you share with the rest of the class? Maybe we can offer some insight.”
I glare at him, irritated that Ransom would do this. He’s behaving like a total ass. Angry with me or not, he doesn’t have the right to punish Annie for it.
“Or you could just leave us alone and continue teaching instead of wasting everyone’s time and grant money,” I mouth back.
Several students roar with laughter. Ransom’s eyes narrow, his anger quick and palpable. They shut up instantly.
“Miss Hart, you’re free to leave.”
He’s trying to kick me out? “No, thanks. I’ll stay.”
Leaving his lectern, Ransom crosses the floor. Stopping before me, he slips his hands into his trouser pockets and regards me with cool, hard steel in his eyes. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”
I blink up at him, smiling demurely. “Are you sure? It sounded like one to me.” Why am I playing this game? It’s dangerous and stupid and could cost me big. But I can’t seem to help myself. Ransom brings out the brat in me.
“Let me make myself perfectly clear, Miss Hart. Pack your things and leave my classroom. Now. When you can show the proper respect, you’re welcome to return.”
Damn. How is it possible to be so attracted to someone and hate them at the same time? Slapping my book closed, I spill everything back into my bag and stand. Slinging the heavy weight over my shoulder, I raise an eyebrow at Ransom. He gives me the same infuriatingly cool look as before.
I almost regret leaving Annie behind, but I don’t want to bring any more attention to her than what’s already been given. She’s sensitive, and I know I’m going to hear an earful later anyway. She’ll want to know what’s going on. Why Ransom came down on me so hard. After leaving the room, I find a seat on one of the benches in the quad and use the time to come up with an acceptable answer.
***
I bite into my turkey on rye in hopes that having my mouth full will prevent me from having to answer Annie’s imposing questions. She is fully into investigation mode. On the walk over to the local diner located at the halfway point between our homes and campus, she must have thrown a dozen or more questions at me. Why did Ransom act that way? Why did he seem so mad? Was it just her imagination, or had he singled me out? Is there trouble in paradise, and if so, what happened?
So far, my answers have consisted mostly of one word and shoulder shrugs. It won’t save me from telling her the truth in the long run, but in the interim, it’s working just fine.
“I just don’t get it,” Annie repeats as she stirs her broccoli and cheese soup. “Mr. Scott always seemed so nice, but today he was just…rude.”
“Well, we were talking while he was teaching,” I reason, even though I’m not even close to accepting his treatment. His reaction was over the top, which sparked my over-the-top reaction, resulting in me being kicked out of class.
“How can you sit there and be so calm after the way he dismissed you in front of everyone? That must have been humiliating!”
I shrug. At this rate, my traps are going to be amazing. “It wasn’t too bad.”
“Are you kidding?” Annie’s eyes grow huge. “I was embarrassed for you. After you left, it took almost ten minutes for Mr. Scott to get everyone back under control.”
“Would you please stop calling him that? His name is Ransom.” Mr. Scott is what I used to call Rebel when we were in bed after Ransom told me he wanted to keep things between us strictly professional. Confused? So was I. From now on, it’s a first name basis until I can get everything sorted out.
“I don’t know him the same way you do.” Annie’s brows pull down in a frown. “It feels weird, too personal.”
Tossing the rest of my uneaten sandwich back on the plate, I sit back and sigh. “I guess I can see your point.” Toying with the straw submerged in my glass of pop, it takes me a moment to realize that Annie is watching me. Her eyes, a bright shade of green that shines in the afternoon sun cutting through one of the windows, are assessing me closely.
Before she gets started on another round of endless, probing questions, I turn the table on her. “So what’s going on with you? Earlier I got the impression you had something on your mind that you wanted to talk to me about.”
Thankfully, the change in subject is enough to distract her. Annie’s gaze drops to her soup. She stirs it a few more times, her mouth forming a pensive line.
“Last night I told Jason that I wanted you to be the baby’s godmother. You know, in case anything ever happens to us.”
My hand flies up to cover my chest. “Annie,” I breathe, touched that she thinks so much of me that she’d trust me to raise her kid.
“Yeah, well. Don’t get too excited.” Overwhelming sadness pours off her, and my elation seeps out of me faster than air from a ruptured balloon as I reach across the table to hold her hand. She gives me a grateful half-smile. “Jason kind of flew off the handle about it.”
“Did he hurt you?” My jaw clenches so hard I feel my teeth creak under the pressure.
“No! He’d never do that.”
“Then what’s the problem?” I ask the question, but I’ve already answered it in my head. The problem is me. It’s no secret that Jason and I don’t get along, but we’ve done well enough so far for Annie’s sake. I don’t see any reason for that to change now.
“He just…” She struggles with the answer. I give her hand a small squeeze of reassurance, and it’s enough to get her to continue. “Jason said you’re not the type of person he wants raising our child. He said...he said he doesn’t want you around it, period.”
My back hits the chair, the breath whooshing out of my lungs as I stare back at her in shock. I’m floored. I’m hurt. I’m incredibly pissed off. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t want to fight with him,” she says. Withdrawing her hand from mine, she begins picking at her nails. “I figure we still have time until the baby arrives to change his mind.”
Right, because Jason is such a reasonable guy. It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. “What if he doesn’t change his mind?” I ask. It’s a valid question. Annie has always deferred to him, and I have a sinking feeling that this time will be no different.
“I don’t think it will be a problem. He just needs time. But, Joe,” she says, her voice growing wary. “I keep trying to understand why you two hate each other so much, but I can’t wrap my head around it.”
“I never said I hated him.”
She huffs in exasperation. “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over you anytime he walks into a room. Heck, even mentioning his name gets you all riled up. And Jason is no different. It’s like he’s on edge anytime you’re around.”
Swallowing, I shift in my seat, looking out the window to avoid her curious gaze. “I guess we just never gelled.”
“You can say that again,” she chuckles. “But really, it’s deeper than that. Everyone’s noticed it. So what gives? Do you two have some kind of history I don’t know about?”
My gaze jumps to hers, and I see more than just simple curiosity burning in their green depths. Annie is prodding because some part of her is suspicious, and she’s right to be.
Ah fuck. Fuckityfuckfuckfuck! I don’t like where this is leading and I don’t want to be the one to tell her. The past is the past and that’s exactly where it should stay.
“Joe?” Annie leans forward, and I can see that she’s read my silence as confirmation that there’s more to the story. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
I have to get out of here.
“Damn,” I say, pulling my phone from my back pocket. I pretend to read the blank screen and shake my head. “I have to go. I’m late to my appointment.” Standing up, I toss some bills on the table to cover my half of the food, then round it to give her a brief hug.
“What appointment?” she questions, looking bewildered by my sudden harried state.
“Just a thing,” I say, waving my hand in the air. “Nothing important, but I have to run.”
Eyes narrowing, Annie tracks me as I rush for the door. “We’re not finished with this conversation, Joe!”
I know, and that’s what frightens me. Throwing my hand up, I wave goodbye and burst onto the sidewalk. Needing a quick getaway, I jump into the first cab I spot and I give the driver my address. I don’t take my first full breath until I’m safely ensconced in my apartment.
I guess it’s true what they say: A person can only run for so long before the past catches up with them.