Page 26 of Master Debater

I gathered up my stacks of files and jammed them in my briefcase. I gestured Rylee out of the office ahead of me, coating my emotions in steel so her stung expression wouldn’t break me down. She’d bit the hand I perpetually held out for her, and she bit hard. I was already working my ass off, and I didn’t need her troubles on top of everything else. If she didn’t want me to take care of her, fine. Let her see exactly how fun being a full-blown adult was.

I escorted Rylee to her car, opening her car door but not shutting it behind her once she was seated. “If you want Fowler and Fowler represent you, then by all means, don’t let me stop you. As your brother, I’ll be cheering for the best outcome, either way. As your lawyer, however, I don’t do things half-ass, and I’m not going to take on the case after they fuck it up. It’s all or nothing, Ry. If you go in another direction, and Gil and Bobby let you down, don’t expect me to swoop in and fix it.”

With that, I closed the door behind her and headed to my own car.

The only thing that had a shot in hell at helping my mood after the week I’d had was a curvy blonde. Even better, I remained confident Willa wouldn’t have a problem with me taking care of her—she actually appreciated my expertise.

Now all I had to do was go hunt her down.

Chapter 15

Willa

The stack of materials I needed take home loomed on the right corner of my desk. Had the pile gotten bigger since the last time I’d glanced at it? The pages of sheet music, both filled in and scored lines in need of notes and measures must be breeding like bunnies. Cramming it all into my bag was going to be tricky.

I’d gotten brave enough to join Bluebikes, a bicycle share program that told me where to find available bikes nearby, and had been riding to and from campus, as well as the grocery store. So far, I’d only fallen once, and it’d been the crack in the sidewalk’s fault. Unfortunately, one of the handlebars had caught in the pocket of the pale pink pants I’d spent way too much money on in the name of looking professional. It ripped the twill fabric that’d honestly been too warm for not-quite fall weather and launched me into a tree I’d ended up literally hugging to prevent myself from going down.

I’d considered giving up but was determined to see it through, and not just so I could prove Eric and his naysaying wrong. I owed it to my mom as much as myself to make this second chance count. She’d given up so much for me through the years, which was why I’d left my more reliable car with her after her hip surgery. Every time I talked to her, she suggested we exchange back, not because she didn’t enjoy driving my nicer sedan, but because she worried about her old beater dying on me.

Honestly, it’d concerned me as well, but she was the one in recovery. Biking was good for me, and I’d become a pro, no matter how much trial and error it took. Like, with this morning, when I’d put on my cute skirt, only realizing as I straddled the bike I’d picked up blocks from the duplex that it was going to be trick to pedal without flashing the entire city the frilly panties I’d put on in hopes a certain someone might see them later.

Probably a foolish hope, considering Nate had gone MIA after the night we’d had sex. I was trying not to read much into it. Especially since the few occasions I heard movement above me, it’d been hours after I’d eaten dinner, put on pajamas and removed my makeup, and settled in for the duration.

Not that I was paying super close attention or anything, but the lights in his portion of the duplex had also been dark more often than not. A fact I knew due to the nightly walks I took to better get acquainted with the neighborhood. The fresh, river-scented air helped me think. I’d hum melodies to myself, stopping to type notes in my phone app when one hit me as a keeper.

Okay, so on more than one occasion, I’d circled the block a few extra times in hopes of facilitating an accidently-on-purpose run-in.

“It’s for the best,” I said to my empty office, not appreciating the way it echoed it back at me with a hint of doubt. This week had been a hectic whirlwind, my new job challenging and rewarding in the best of ways. I was finally doing what I loved, and as I wasn’t ready for a full-blown relationship—or anything else that’d get in the way of my dreams, for that matter.

And yet, I played one of the last things Nate had said to me on a hedonistic loop. If there’s to be any sort of bondage, it’ll be with me, and you’ll be the one secured and under my command. Got it?”

That was just Nate being his usual bossy, dirty-talking, sex-god self. Anyway, I assumed. It definitely merited a thorough investigation, and since I was aching for round two, I’d totally volunteer as tribute.

My cell phone rang, scattering my concerns over whether there’d be a repeat performance. Talk about a standing O.

I snorted at my own joke, going so far as to imagine standing up to applaud the orgasm Nate had given me so that he’d deliver another. Then I saw the name flashing across my phone screen and rushed to answer. “It finally happened,” I blurted out, the words coming as strong and fast as the release I’d experienced with Nate the other night. “Twice, actually.”

“It was the rabbit, wasn’t it? I told you, it’s a miracle worker—hits the clit and the G-spot at the same time.”

“While it was nice, I struggled to get there with it.”

“Nice.” I could hear the sour nose-crinkled in Leah’s voice. A voice I’d missed while we’d been playing phone tag this week. I wanted to tell her about my roaring success in the getting off department, but it didn’t seem like a voicemail type conversation, and being able to hear her reactions and picture them proved I was right.

“No matter what I tried, I just couldn’t get there. I was sure that it meant I needed more emotional input, but then… well, long story short, it was my sexy neighbor.”

“Shut up. The one you ran into the first night? The guy who saw the contents of the self-care package I sent you?”

“One and the same. I don’t understand what he’s doing having sex with me, because he’s way out of my league, but?—”

“We talked about this. You have to stop doing that. You’re beautiful and funny and smart and amazing, just the way you are. And clearly your hot neighbor agrees.”

Leah and I had spoken about it at length—my run-in with Nate the first night, yes, but I meant my tendency to put myself down before anyone else could do the same, and how much hell my ex’s infidelity had wreaked on my ego. “He’s seriously got, like, muscles for days, Leah. And he knows how to use them.”

“And you’ve got curves for days. Remember how I’ve asked to borrow your boobs on more than one occasion?”

I glanced down at the girls. Thanks to finding a brand of bras that fit me perfectly, supportive without too much padding or hoisting them up beneath my chin, I’d grown to appreciate them. It was the butt, the gut, and the cellulite on my thighs I struggled to embrace.

“Eric’s always cared more about his image than most, and he put those insecurities on you,” Leah said. “Don’t let him.”

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