Page 3 of His Promise

I look over to Gage, debating whether or not I should try to talk to him. He’s hunched over his textbook, and his shoulders are tight with tension.

Deciding it’s probably best not to anger the person I’m relying on for a place to sleep, I help myself to a book from his shelf and move over to the couch, settling in for a long afternoon of reading. Maybe I’ll even find a moment to get a head start on my study plan.

Chapter 2

Gage

I’m heading back to my apartment for a long evening of studying when I hear a familiar voice call out to me as I walk to my car. I turn to see Kirk, a good friend of mine, waving me down. He’s a year behind me, but we’ve been in the same program for a few years, and because I’m still attending classes here in the grad school, we still see each other a lot.

I stop and wait for him to catch up, assuming he just wants to catch up a little before classes start on Monday. It’s the sort of thing we all do after a summer spent doing different things; maybe he wants to ask how my summer internship went or something. When he reaches me, however, he has a pleading look on his face that tells me I won’t like whatever it is he’s about to say next.

“Hey, man,” he says with a slap to my back.

“Kirk, how’s it going?”

“It’s move-in weekend, so you know, it’s the usual nightmare of lost freshman and helicopter parents.”

I groan in sympathy. Yeah, there’s no way I could do it. I’m sure he only does it because of the free room and board.

“Anyway,” Kirk continues. “Remember that favor you owe me for covering your ass last semester?”

Narrowing my eyes at him, I nod my head slowly.

“Well, I need to cash that in. There’s a kid on my floor whose rooming assignment got screwed up. I sent her to Student Housing, but you know how it is. She won’t be able to do anything about it until Monday, so she won’t have anywhere to go for the weekend.”

Ouch. Student housing is stone cold. I know that from experience, but I can’t help wondering why he’s talking tomeabout it. “And why is that something you need to tell me?” I ask.

“Well, I kind of feel bad? She’s just a kid, you know? And well, I know you’re off campus this year, and I know you know what it’s like to deal with Student Housing.”

“Wow, really?” I know what Kirk is asking, even though he hasn’t spelled it out yet. No fucking way am I letting this girl stay with me. “Can’t she—”

“Dude, you know all the hotels are going to be full this weekend. I thought she could stay with you, just for a few days. I’d offer to let her stay with me in my dorm, but I can’t risk my RA position if someone finds out.”

There it is. “No way, absolutely not. I live in a studio apartment, and I have a ton of studying to do. I have to get top grades this semester. I don’t have time to babysit some freshman.”

Kirk’s expression hardens. “You owe me. I covered your ass for that exam. If not for me, you would’ve failed your econ course.”

Shit. He’s right. I’d gotten food poisoning before finals last year and missed a crucial exam for my economics class. The professor only offered one make-up session, and if Kirk hadn’t given me notes for the classes I couldn’t get to, I would’ve missed it.

“Fine, but after this, we’re square,” I say through gritted teeth.

Kirk smiles at me and throws an arm around my shoulders. I’m taller than him by a few inches, so it’s a bit awkward. “Awesome! I knew you’d come around. Let’s go see if we can find her. Her name is Maci, you’ll love her. She’s a business major, too.”

I groan. Every year, I deal with a swarm of freshman who think a business major will be an easy way to a degree. Inevitably, I have to deal with all their whining when they realize their courses require actual studying to pass. Fortunately, this year, I snagged the TA position for the advanced undergrad courses. It’s highly unlikely this Maci girl will be in any of the sections I’m teaching.

I follow Kirk across campus to the administration building, but thankfully, it doesn’t take long to find her. He perks up after noticing someone and leads me across the quad to a bench with a person sitting on it, their head in their hands.

This must be Maci. She has a riot of dark curls that hide her face from view, but when we step up to her, she looks up and locks eyes with me. I’m nearly knocked backwards onto my ass.

It’s not like I haven’t seen plenty of pretty girls on campus, but something about this one is different. Perhaps it’s the way her green eyes almost glow with intelligence, despite the tears trailing down her cheeks, or the curves that will not quit underneath her snug t-shirt and the tight jeans I can’t help but imagine peeling down her long legs. Repaying this favor to Kirk might not be such a hardship after all.

But no, I don’t do freshmen. Or undergrads, for that matter, not now that I’m a grad student. This girl has to be what, eighteen? I’m twenty-three. That’s a recipe for disaster I don’t need. I have to keep my grades up if I want to be hired on permanently where I had my internship after graduation. I don’t need a distraction. And Maci is very much a distraction, biting her lip and trying desperately not to cry. Her gulping breaths make her t-shirt strain across her very nice tits. My hands curl, wanting to cup each heavy orb. Damn it.

Kirk asks her how it went with Student Housing, and it seems to have gone just as he’d expected. I introduce myself and try to be encouraging and sympathetic, remembering all too well that I’d found myself in a similar situation my freshman year when my scholarship money had been delayed. It’s obvious that she’s scared and has no idea what to do next.

She’s confused when I tell her she can stay with me for a bit, but she finally agrees to come with me. I don’t know why, but something in my chest swells at the realization that she clearly trusts me enough to come home with me. I push the feeling aside and grab her bag before leading her to my car. No distractions. No letting myself get distracted.

Once we’re in my apartment, I make show of ignoring her. I have to study. This detour in my day has already taken a big chunk out of my study time. But I can’t help sneaking glances at her reflection in my computer screen while I pretend to read the textbook in front of me. First, she looks over my books, then she pulls one off a shelf and sits down primly on my couch, crossing and uncrossing her legs and driving me slowly insane.

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