“You are one snide little-”
“Wait a second, before you start calling names,” I interrupted him, holding my hand up before he could get any naughty words out of that beautiful mouth of his. “You caught me way off guard. I may have been a little defensive,” I relented, not feeling a single word I was saying, but knowing if I wanted to get to the bottom of this I would have to play his game.
“You are apologizing for being defensive?” he clarified, not looking at all pacified.
What the hell?
“Yes, um, that and for running into you,” I mumbled in a rush.
“What was that?” he stepped forward, tightening the arms that were folded across his chest. I knew he heard me…. cocky bastard.
“I apologize for running into you, I was in a hurry,” I offered magnanimously.
“Obviously,” he narrowed his eyes on me again and rocked back on his heels. “It’s fine, I mean, you took most of the hit anyway.” He nodded to my stained shirt and that’s when I realized he was completely dry except for the hem of his t-shirt.
I hesitated for a long moment, feeling irrationally vulnerable under his scrutiny. Which wasn’t fair, because I was usually the one getting to do the scrutinizing. He looked me over for all of three more seconds before seeming to come to an indifferent conclusion.
Which, let’s be honest, confused the hell out of me.
“I can write you a pass,” he offered out of the blue. This was it! This was him showing his true colors! But his tone of voice was not anything like the doting, fawning boys I was used to.
“You can?” I squeaked while still feeling exposed for some strange reason.
“I’m the office aide this hour, which is why I had coffee in the first place,” he motioned to the still wet ground.
“Oh.”
“What’s your name?” he asked as if he didn’t know.
“Really?” I laughed.
His expression turned confused. “I can’t write you a pass without it.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t tell if he really didn’t know my name or not. He looked confused, but really I was the one that was so confused I couldn’t even make a sentence.
“Uh, your name?” he asked impatiently.
“Ivy Pierce,” I struggled for confidence. Who was this guy?
“Come on Ivy, what class are you going to?” He motioned toward the office, but there was absolutely no way I was going back in there. Not to mention, the minute Mrs. Tanner figured out he was trying to help me out, she wouldn’t let him go through with it. And for some unexplainable reason I didn’t want to get in it with her in front of him.
Whoever he was.
“Um, I have,” I gave my schedule a quick glance before answering, “Mr. Taylor for creative writing.” He motioned me to follow him so I had to call after him before the door swung shut, “I’ll just wait out here.”
He nodded his head without turning around to acknowledge me. Huh. He jumped up, so he could reach over the chest high partition and grabbed the yellow late slips before settling back down to the floor and filling it out. I watched him through the glass in kind of a state of disbelief. He hadn’t looked back at me, not even once.
Obviously my self-confidence was used to more petting, but I had legitimate reasons to have always thought of myself as desired. I was desired- always. And it wasn’t something I liked or ever hardly tolerated, but still it was the truth. The male species as a whole couldn’t resist me and suddenly I smashed into someone I didn’t know, get splattered with hot coffee and my mojo was gone?
“Ivy Pierce?” a girl’s voice made me turn my head away from watching the mysterious office aide.
I turned to meet Kenna Lee as she approached the office. I forced a smile that I didn’t really mean and realized how hard it was to keep my focus on her. She was nice enough, or as nice as a girl could be around me and we had known each forever, but as far as friends went…. she didn’t like me. At all.
And I didn’t blame her.
Plus it was hard to keep my eyes off the office aide writing me a pass. What if he turned to check me out and I missed it? Or even better, what if he never turned to check me out?
Kenna’s smile seemed halfway genuine though so I had to wonder if girls would also be affected by my loss of mojo. Maybe I would start making friends.
“When did you get back?” she asked. She was one of the more attractive girls in our junior class. Her dad was Japanese and her mom was Italian American so she had the good fortune of beautifully mixed genes with long, silky straight black hair, and pretty tilted eyes that were a shocking shade of green.
“Today is my first day,” I answered, wondering what to make of her friendliness.
“Good luck,” she smiled knowingly, but friendly enough.
“Uh, thanks,” I mumbled while she left me in the hallway and entered the office.
Office Boy turned at the sound of the door bells tinkling and his gray eyes lit up as soon as they landed on Kenna. He stopped writing my pass to pull her into his arms and smother her in a kiss. She threw her head back in laughter and he went for her neck playfully.
It was kind of gross, in that sickeningly gross happy couple way that makes everyone around want to vomit. Really blissful couples always made me uncomfortable anyway and I felt the need to avert my eyes.
The office door opened again and a tan, long-fingered hand was thrust through the space. I followed the sinewy muscles up to a perfectly toned bicep along his shoulder, collarbone, and throat and up to those clear gunmetal eyes staring at me with nothing more than complete disinterest.
“Sorry, again about the coffee,” I apologized more sincerely for that spill than I
