Page 11 of The Comeback

He flips through his phone before whispering to me, “Isn’t Hickey supposed to be the prof?”

“Hickey is on leave. Slater took this one over for the semester. She’s a dragon and not in a good way. She’ll work us hard.”

It doesn’t give me the satisfaction I expected, seeing his face crumple. Maybe he’ll drop the class if he was looking for an easy way to finish his graduation requirements. I’m reaching my hand out to pat his arm for comfort before checking myself. I reel it back faster than I would if there was a venomous spider chilling on his shoulder. Why does he look almost sick with worry? He was never top of the class, but he was a decent student in high school, as far as I know.

The hour-long class takes approximately one week to end. I’m very aware of his presence next to me. I mean, he’s hard to miss with his six-foot plus frame and those massive shoulders. He’s always drawn my attention even when I hated him in high school, but now that I’ve seen what’s under those clothes, ugh. Wait, no, I still hate him. He’s still the cocky jerk I used to know. Nothing has changed just because I had a momentary lapse of judgment and fell on his beautiful lips. You can appreciate the beauty of a deadly predator without wanting to stick your head in its mouth.

“Ok, class. Now for some class rules and your assignment. Look to your right or left. Whoever you’re sharing a desk with is your partner for the year. No moving seats or switching partners. I prefer to know where everyone is, and who is skipping class, hence the sign-in sheet I sent around earlier. I will dock points from your final grade for every class you miss.” A chill races up my spine. No. No, no, no. I can’t believe I forgot about that quirk of Slater’s. She made us do this in the history class I took from her before. Dax was my partner, but I had another friend who wanted to switch seats and got denied. She’s a real hard ass about this.

When I turn to look at Sebastian, he’s smiling at me like he’s happy about this. Why would he be happy about it? He doesn’t even like me. He thinks I’m a weird music nerd like everyone else did until I got to college.

“What are you so happy about?” I snap at him and regret the warmth that’s sucked out of the room when his smile droops. He shakes it off, leaning back in his seat and stretching his arms out to lace his hands behind his head. Muscles that I didn’t know existed in real life pop out the back of his arms.

“We’re going to be partners. It will be good. We can catch up. Relive the good old days.”

I can’t still my fingers when they start drumming on the desk again. “I’m aware that high school was great for you, but in case you hadn’t noticed, I didn’t have the best time of it. Especially after what you did.”

“Abs, c’mon. I know I was a stupid jerk in high school. I am so sorry I treated you that way. It wasn’t all sunshine and roses for me. I know it looked like I was happy, but some stuff went down at my other high school. It changed me. And not for the better.”

I remember his smiling face as he and the other jocks at our school laughed and walked by me as if I were invisible. Those were the good days. The ones where there were no cruel words. I find it hard to believe he didn’t enjoy his high school existence as a hockey god. “It’s fine. We can handle sitting together for one class, but don’t expect me to be nice to you outside of this room. What was it you said to me? I don’t hang with weird drama chicks. Well, guess what? I don’t hang with cocky hockey jocks who discard a girl after one night.”

His mouth parts and his eyes search mine as if he wants to say more, but he realizes it’s probably not a good life choice. “Ok, Abby. Truce then? During class.”

I eye the hand he holds out warily at first, but then reach mine out with a tentative gesture, pressing my palm to his. A buzz of electricity sparks between us as his calloused fingers close around mine. I go to release my grip, but his shoulder flexes as he pulls me in closer to him until our faces are almost touching. “This isn’t over, though. I will make it up to you. I promise.” His hot breath sends a shiver through me as it caresses my ear. No. I can’t have these feelings about Sebastian. Even lust is unacceptable. I jerk away and grab my bags to hurry out of there, but I can feel his eyes burning a hole in my back and I make the mistake of one last glance over my shoulder. He’s watching me leave through hooded eyes. At least it’s me leaving this time.

Chapter 8

Sebastian

Theamberliquidinthe frosty glass swirls in hypnotizing bubbles as I spin my drink in slow circles. I’m lost in the glow flickering through the glass from the dimly lit bar. The crack of a hand on my back snaps me out of my thoughts and the loud chatter and clinking glasses come rushing back at me.

“Are you with us, man? We’ve gotta enjoy these days as hard as we can. Once the season starts, fun times are over.” Aspen gives his beer a longing look before chugging half of it. He doesn’t mean that. Guy lives for hockey, just like the rest of us. “Don’t go all broody on us again.”

“Yeah. I’m here. Sorry, just thinking about…” I trail off, not sure how to end that one. I was thinking of her. Abby. That kiss is lingering in my head in an alarming way.

“Well, I for one, fully intend to take advantage of the slightly less crazy schedule we’re on at the moment.” Jackson’s blond hair flops over his eye as he gives a nod and a slow smile to the three girls who’ve been eyeing us up since we got here. A squeal grates at my nerves and I glance at the door, calculating what time I can leave without the guys razzing me about it too hard.

A girl with long, black hair shimmies over to Jackson. He welcomes her with the bright smile he has for everyone and folds his arm around her waist after she drops into his lap. He wraps a lock of her hair around his finger, tugging her in to whisper in her ear.

The other two eye the rest of us appraisingly, but no one else offers their lap so the girls pull up chairs and settle around the table. I barely glance at the blond who sits next to me until she lays a hand tipped in ridiculously long, bright pink nails on my arm in a possessive way. I shift away, clasping my hands behind my head to get away from her touch without coming across as a jerk. Dev raises a brow at me, but the girl shifts her attention to him when he leans in to talk to her.

Man, I’ve got to shake this off. I’m comparing every girl I look at in this place to her, and none of them are measuring up. That one’s hair is too dark, not quite the honey brown of Abby’s. Another one has blue eyes, but they’re too pale. Abby’s are a steel blue that shifts to gray depending on her mood. And don’t get me started on the curves. Any time I think of putting my hands on one of these girls, I just know their curves won’t fill up my hands like hers will.

What is wrong with me? Maybe I should take one of them home to get her off my mind. That’s all I need, right? Somehow, I can’t do it. Feels wrong.

I’ve got to do something. Scrub her out of my brain. I’m already distracted by her. After one kiss. And even if I did want to pursue her, there’s no way she’d go for me. I hurt her too much in high school. Sure, I was going through some stuff back then, but that’s a piss poor excuse for hurting someone I used to be so close to.

I drag a hand through my hair and drop a twenty on the table. “I’m heading out, guys. Have fun.”

The blond turns away from Devlin with a pout of her shiny pink lips. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yup.”

“What’s with you tonight, dude?” Beau lifts his head from the girl curled into his side.

“Just need to clear my head. I’m gonna hit the gym for a bit. I’ll catch you guys later.”

I wave at the guys, ducking out before anyone can try to persuade me to stay. The freezing air outside is a relief after the stifling heat of the bar.

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