Collide (Off-Limits Book 2) Page 14

  “She doesn’t know the extent of it. I’ve tried to keep it from her. I don’t want her worrying.”

  “But you put it all on me.”

  “Because you can handle it.” My mother rises and squares her shoulders. “Have a drink with me.”

  There’s a first for everything. To my knowledge, she never drinks except at social events.

  I lead the way to the kitchen, where she hunts through the wine fridge.

  “When I got pregnant with you,” she starts, getting down on her knees to pull out bottles and check labels, “I didn’t expect it. I was a twenty-four-year-old dancer. By having a child at that age, I’d be giving up my career. I wanted a better life for you. Hence marrying your father.”

  “I thought you were engaged when you had me.”

  “We were. He had ideas of being a free man for longer. I disabused him of that notion.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Special bottle,” she grunts. “We were saving it for our twentieth wedding anniversary. Or I was. Instead of drinking it, he was caught up with work.”

  I kneel next to her, pulling out bottles for her to inspect.

  “He didn’t want to take responsibility at first. I wanted to be sure you would have the security I didn’t. I wanted you to be taken care of always.”

  The next bottle has her exclaiming. “Voilà.”

  She rises gracefully, and I reach for two crystal glasses from the cupboard. We take everything out to the terrace of the townhouse.

  She pours her own the same size, then adds another half an inch to the crystal before setting the bottle down on a table.

  “Men can fuck you over. I don’t ever want that for you. I wanted to protect you from it, but it seems I have less control than I thought.”

  She takes a long sip of her wine.

  “Promise me you won’t let that happen.”

  I was a whole person before Sawyer Redmond. With dreams and likes and dislikes.

  Was I though?

  It feels as if I was half awake, as if everything I did was conditional upon what other people wanted and decided I should want and be and have. If someone liberates you rather than you liberating yourself, does it mean you’re still trapped, just in different surroundings?

  “I promise.”

  I’m going to prove her wrong. There’s no way Sawyer’s going to let me down.

  21

  Sawyer

  Cherry: You get something to eat this morning?

  Sawyer: Yes, but I want another taste tonight.

  The past two weeks we’ve settled into a routine. She stays at my place a couple of nights a week. She feeds the fish, indulges my crazy ideas, and I take care of her.

  Make sure she’s eating. Make sure she’s coming.

  We spend every second we can steal together, and I love making her laugh, and she makes this cute face when she’s about to call me on my bullshit.

  I’ve made it my personal mission to push her, but lately, she’s more than meeting me.

  This morning I got up to find her stretching next to the bed. She looked so damned beautiful I didn’t want to disturb her, but I couldn’t resist wrapping my arms around her body and running my hands up beneath her tank top. When she moaned and leaned back into me, I lay back and pulled her over me.

  The old Olivia would’ve let me do it.

  The new Olivia stripped the tank top off, put her hands in her hair, and arched her back like a cat while she held my eyes through the slits of hers.

  Fucking yes.

  I’ve been more careful around campus, but when she came in to talk about the project, I couldn’t resist threading my fingers through hers. The team is getting closer to accomplishing something real and meaningful, and I’m beyond proud.

  This started out with me wanting to take a few layers off her perfection and show her the world is better when you let go.

  Now, I’m falling for the way her mind works. I love that she wants to save the world, even if that world is a place I didn’t care much for until I knew she was part of it.

  Still, she’s holding a piece of herself back.

  When Tate proposed her working for us, the idea seemed insane. But the more I think about it, the more I like it.

  What I don’t like is how easily she suggested we could end what’s between us if it meant her getting an internship.

  Cherry: Shit. Shit shit shit.

  The message comes as I make my way across the hill to the engineering department.

  Sawyer: You and the team working late today?

  Cherry: Yes. We’re behind and it’s my fault.

  Sawyer: I doubt that.

  But I hit her contact.

  “Stars took my name off the updates list when I was late for that informational call,” Olivia says on a whoosh of breath. “So there’s a whole extra section we have to submit that no one told us about. I tried booking lab time but the schedule said it was full.”

  “Let me see what I can do.”

  “You’re the best. Anything I can bring tomorrow for dinner?”

  “I have caterers. Just show up, along with the other fifty people.”

  “I can do that.” She sighs. “Thanks, Sawyer.”

  “You got it, sweetheart.”

  I click off, an extra bounce in my stride as I head through the front doors and up the stairs to the second floor.

  I’m hosting a pre-finals social for half the department. Evidently one of the faculty hosts every year, and I drew the short stick, being new and all.

  No matter I’m only here temporarily.

  I was going to beg off, but Olivia suggested I go through with it to show everyone I’m playing ball.

  By the administration desk I pause, pulling out my phone and typing out an impulse text.

  Sawyer: There is one thing you can do. Wear that skirt I like.

  “Let me guess: you’ve been summoned?”

  I glance up at Betty’s voice. “Looks that way.”

  “Here you go. The mid-semester student reviews.” She holds them out and I accept them. “In case the dean gives you shit for them. He’ll use anything to dig at you.”

  “I can take him.”

  She winces, and it occurs to me that when I piss him off, it probably makes things harder on people I care about. Ones who don’t deserve his bullshit but can’t walk away like I can.

  I skim the feedback.

  The only lectures I don’t skip.

  Tough but knows what he’s talking about.

  Seems like a different guy from the start of the semester.

  My brows lift. “They like me.”

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised. Your father was secretly delighted when he had good reviews.”

  My laughter fades. “I have a hard time picturing that.”

  In the past couple weeks, I’ve gone through some of my dad’s old things, and I’m starting to see what Olivia meant—he seems like a different person since I left.

  I’m not ready to let him off the hook for how he raised me, but knowing he was a better man after I left stings less than I thought it would.

  Still thinking of Olivia’s request, I pull up my phone and look at the lab schedule. Sure enough, the entire day is blocked out. “Hey. How can I see who’s using the lab? It usually shows who’s in it.”

  Betty leans over to look at my phone. “That means a central booking from the dean’s office. Except I’m usually the one to make the booking. Let me check…” She turns to her computer, entering a few keystrokes. “We had cameras installed in the main lab after a prank break-in last year. Except…the lab’s empty.”

  It makes zero sense.

  My grip on the phone tightens as a text message displays on a banner across the screen between us.

  Cherry: You like any skirt without anything underneath, Professor.

  Betty’s gaze meets mine.

  Fuck.

  I clear my throat. “It’s not…”

 
“What it looks like?”

  That hangs between us.

  “I want you to be happy, Sawyer. Happy doesn’t always mean following the rules, behaving like society expects us to. But…” She goes on, inhaling sharply, “Not everyone is as open-minded.”

  The door behind her opens and the dean appears. “Professor Redmond. Come in. Have a seat.”

  He’s powerful on this campus, and dangerous. He can’t ruin my life, but he would get off trying, and he’d ruin a lot of other people that I care about.

  So I sit in the chair facing his desk while he claims the one behind it.

  “You tried to fuck me over,” I start.

  “Excuse me?”

  “By inviting Tate here to meet my students after Black Build. It didn’t work, and it won’t.”

  “Whatever you’re imagining, it’s pure conjecture. Now, we’re talking about your reviews.” He shuffles papers on his desk. “Faculty can’t return if their reviews aren’t satisfactory.”

  I cross my arms. “We both know this was a one-time-only thing. Covering for Lancaster until you can hire someone new.”

  He cocks his head, surprised. “Surely you at least want to apply. Do you have any idea how many faculty would kill for this job?”

  I want to tell him where to stick his invitation, but Betty’s warning echoes in my head. Pissing him off more than necessary will only make life harder for people I care about, including her. She’ll have to deal with his scorched ego when I walk out of here.

  He clears his throat. “You scored a four point oh out of five. This is below the departments’ goal of a four point three review from all faculty.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, your reviews last semester were a three point six.”

  “How did you…” He turns so red he’s nearly purple.

  I lean over his desk, picking up an expensive-looking pen on the blotter. “I have an agenda item, too. I want the faculty’s full support for my Stars team. No phantom lab bookings that don’t exist.”

  He grabs the pen from my hand. “It’s an indulgent exercise. We could be investing in faculty instead of—”

  “Students? We’re a university. What the fuck else should we be investing in?”

  “It’s a research institution! This department has the opportunity to produce leading innovations.”

  “And you’re afraid those new ideas will come from the students, not from you.”

  He wants success, but only if he can take all the credit. If my team does well, that credit goes to them, and perhaps to me. He can’t stand it.

  Students are the lifeblood of this and every school. Faculty’s job is to help them learn from their mistakes, but it’s not a place to find your own glory.

  “You have no idea the pressures we’re under. You never wanted to be here,” he sputters. “Even as a student, you thought you were too good for this place. So what changed? You didn’t suddenly start caring for these students. You only care about yourself. Lancaster took you in because he felt obliged. He thought he could tame you, make something of you. But you’re a wild animal no one else wanted.”

  The accusations glance off me as I rise from my seat.

  “The students are presenting to the justification committee in another week. I expect no further interference, unless you want this elevated to the provost’s office. I’m sure the university would be glad to ensure the team is appropriately supported if engineering is struggling.” I reach into the inside pocket of my jacket to pull out a flyer and set it in front of him. “I hope we’ll see you at the party.”

  22

  Olivia

  “You look like you could use this after all the hours we’ve been pulling this week.” Adam brings me a drink from the long table the caterers set up in Lancaster’s backyard.

  “Thanks.” I take the cup and sip. The cider fits the fall vibe, though it’s unseasonably warm enough I’m wearing a denim jacket and Adam’s in his team jacket from basketball.

  “How’s the arm holding up?” I nod to Adam’s shoulder, still in a bandage from the accident.

  “It’s healing, but I’m off basketball.”

  “I’m sorry. But it could have been worse. When I found that bottle…I was scared you were drinking.”

  “I had it with me, but only had a sip. And not in the car,” he goes on at my look. “It was a mistake. I seem to be making them a lot. But I hope I haven’t made any I can’t come back from.”

  “Meaning?”

  “There are things you get over, and ones you can’t.” He shoves his good hand through his hair. “It’s been a rough semester. But we survived, right? Just a week until finals.”

  We toast, his cup to mine.

  “Couldn’t see Redmond hosting a party before. At least one like this.”

  I follow Adam’s gaze to Sawyer, who’s deigning to make small talk with other faculty. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a sweater, nodding as if he’s trying to stay invested in the conversation when he’s secretly itching to bolt.

  I have a plan—one that starts with everyone, including Sawyer, having a good time.

  I told Sawyer it would be smart for the department to see him like this, but it’s more than that.

  The past couple of weeks have been amazing. Neither of us has brought up the future and a possible internship. But pressure for the competition is dialing up, and my mom’s words linger in the back of my mind.

  “I bet the guy’s done some crazy shit in his life. That’s why you’re so hot for him.”

  I cough, some of my drink going down the wrong way. “Excuse me?”

  “His influence is all over the justification.”

  Relief edges in. It makes sense that his ideas would creep in, because we’ve been talking about it—not only after class, but at night in bed and over dinner a couple times when I’ve hitched a ride back here with Daniel and Andy after dance class.

  “Plus that stuff about underwater reclamation,” Adam continues. “You really want to save the world?”

  “You’re going to inherit a company someday. Do you want to use it to leave the world better than before?”

  A dozen feet away, Madison’s eyeing Royce, who’s being obtuse as usual.

  Across the yard, Betty’s throwing a football with some grad students.

  We might each have our own weirdness, but we’re together. People are celebrating a beautiful day in a beautiful place at the kind of university most kids dream of attending.

  “I don’t know, Liv. Maybe we can try.” His frown deepens and he brushes the pendant under the neckline of my sweater, hooking it out with a finger. “You never told me how you got this back.”

  I step away, forcing a smile. “I guess it was meant to be.”

  There’s a heavy look in his eyes.

  “Everything our parents did, it doesn’t have to determine where we go, who we are.” He reaches for my arm and pulls me toward the side of the house just out of sight.

  Normally I’d brush him off but today feels like a day for truth.

  “Adam, when we were together you didn’t see me. You didn’t try. You took for granted the time we spent together. And I’ll take some of the blame, I should have asked for what I wanted.”

  “Which was what?”

  “Connection. Compassion.” I lift a shoulder. “You to go down on me once in a while.”

  He straightens up, an incredulous laugh on his lips. “You wished I’d gone down on you? That’s why we broke up?”

  “We broke up because you cheated,” I correct. “That you never went down on me was just one more reason I came to accept it.”

  He steps closer. “I know you, Liv. Let’s bail on this place and I can show you. You can tell me what you like and I’ll give it to you.”

  I back toward the edge of the house, and swear I feel Sawyer’s eyes on my back.

  “You were my first everything, and I don’t regret it. But it wasn’t meant to be that way for either of us.”

  “I always
figured it’d be you and me when everything shook down. I still do.”

  He bends closer, his lips brushing across mine before I can stop him.

  He tastes like mint and nostalgia, and I press a hand to his chest to push him away.

  A throat clearing behind us makes us turn.

  Sawyer looms overhead, a glowering god ready to deal out punishment.

  I rub the corner of my mouth, afraid he can see Adam on me.

  “You’re missing the party.” His voice is dark and too quiet.

  Adam smirks. “Just the opposite, Professor. We were saying how great it is.”

  Sawyer’s going to kill Adam. He’ll rip him in half and hide the body parts in the garden.

  Scratch that. The way he looks, he’s not going to bother hiding the body.

  “We’re fine, Professor Redmond,” I insist, loading every word with meaning. “But thanks for your concern.”

  The intensity of his gaze pins me in place and it takes everything in me to break it.

  I nod to Adam. “Come on, do you want to sign the poster?”

  I return to the draped table, catching Sawyer’s eye for the briefest moment and willing him to relax. “They’re going to blow it up and hang it in the…” I trail off as I realize the Sharpies aren’t here.

  I head inside to find them.

  Nothing in the kitchen, so I head for the living room and spot a cup of pens there.

  “Nice markers. Surprised Dr. Lancaster has a stash of them.”

  Adam’s voice makes me jump as I lift the cup, which includes a few of my pink gel pens.

  Before he can say anything more, a chest-high tornado tears into the room.

  “Can I see the fish?” Andy demands when he stops in front of me.

  “Sure, Andy. He’s in my dance class,” I explain as I lead the way.

  “Shit, that’s a big tank,” Adam comments.

  “It’s no ocean but it holds a lot. Close as you can get to a habitat they’re comfortable in.”