Page 7 of Hot For Her Bully

"Isn't there a class or dorm room you guys can go to for that?" someone asks, walking by.

Weston pulls away with a smile. "Perfect. Just like that."

It's twisted the way we fall into a rhythm so easily.

"Let's go, babe." His voice doesn't possess an ounce of irony or disdain. I know his hatred for me is buried somewhere, begging for the right time to release it. I know he's going to humiliate me. I just need to make it to graduation before that happens.

Weston is set on ruining my reputation over a misunderstanding. Every second glance in my direction has people questioning how I walk around, knowing that I made a mess in some poor guy's bed. Every girl looking to get on Weston's radar sinks to his level, calling me Shit-ney and making sure my social life is insufferable.

I don't want to go home, to quit, and let these assholes run me out of a degree program I pay hard money to attend. I'll just make it to graduation and be done with him, done with school, done with this shitty period in my life.

Weston walks me to class and kisses me on the lips before winking at me and disappearing into the crowd. I'm not in class long before a text comes to my phone through a social media app. The request is in vanish mode. I want to ignore it, possibly send it to the spam folder, but something tells me to open it. Of course, it's from Weston.

Don't forget to get me in with Daddy Adams, babe.

I snarl and go to delete the message, but it vanishes as soon as I touch the screen, showing that I read it.

"Psst," a voice whispers next to me. Her name's Claire if I remember, but I don't talk to many students in this class. I'm certain she's just trying to get my attention to have me pass a page of notes or something.

"What?" I whisper back. The professor looks in our direction. But with over a hundred students in the stadium seating classroom, he's having a hard time narrowing down who's talking.

"Are you really dating Weston Whitlock?" she asks.

"Yes," I growl. It's unbelievable how fast gossip spreads across campus.

"Oh wow. He, um, never seemed interested in you before, Shit-ney." Claire reminds me why we don't speak.

"Fuck you." I try to think of a witty comeback or play on her name, but my mind goes blank.

Claire leans away to talk to her friend before leaning back to speak to me. "No thanks, shit-stain. What do you have on him? You have to be blackmailing him to get someone like that as a notch on your bedpost."

"Mind your business and leave me alone." I get up to move my seat, but that gets the attention of everyone in the class.

"Can I help you, Miss Downing?" the professor asks.

"No, I'm sorry. I have to go," I tell him and rush out of the room. The bridge of my nose burns with tears threatening to fall. I keep my head down, hoping to get to a handicapped bathroom where I can cry my face off in peace.

My fingers wrap around the strap of my bag tightly, my chest jittering with the floodgates of my misery threatening to burst open. The clicks of my shoes speed-walking down the hall take my mind to a place in my head where I can ignore everyone and everything.

It knocks the wind out of me when I bump into the hard chest of someone in my way. When I look up and see the softness of Harland Adam's brown eyes, I burst.

"Hey, hey, come. Let's not do this in the hall," he says, leading me into his office. After he closes the door, he wraps his arms around me, rubbing my back gently. Once I get it out, he leans me away from him, using his thumb to wipe my tears.

"What's the matter, Whit?" he asks. There's a sternness in his voice.

"Dad," I stutter. "I can't?—"

I pause to think. How much do I want to tell him? Maybe he can get me out of this shit with Weston, but Weston's hatred for me is my fault and then I took advantage of him. What will my father think of me?

"Whitney, sit down and tell me what's wrong."

Harland Adams is tall, with the same color eyes he gifted me, but a lifetime of guilt sits behind them every time we speak. His white hair fluffs backward as his eyes avoid looking at me. I take the seat in front of his desk.

"I have to turn down the job you want to give me."

"Oh? I hope that's not what has you so upset."

I lean into that. "It is. I didn't want to disappoint you. You've been doing so much for me to make up for not being there when I was a kid and I just…I just don't want to fuck this opportunity up."

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