Loud: The Complete Series (A Bad Boy Alpha Male Romance) (23 page)

I stood from my barstool.
“Melissa, I'm gonna have to say no. Sorry. I can't, I just can't. See you
round.”

With her eyes locked on me boring
holes into the back of my skull every step of the way, I stumbled out of the
bar onto the damp, windy street where I held onto a street lamp, waiting in silence
for a passing cab to stop.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN

Brooke

Four days. That’s how long it had been since Emerson
and I had been together that night. That’s also how long it had been since I’d
heard from him. It was Thursday and still not a word. And the longer the
silence lasted, the angrier I became — both with him for acting like he was,
and with myself for being an idiot and buying his bullshit. How could I have
been so stupid and let my feelings override logic? I had been naïve letting my
guard down and allowing him to get close enough to do this to me. I should have
known better. I really should have known better.

I was sitting on the living room sofa going over some
notes for chemistry class — which Emerson had been noticeably absent from
again
– when Leslie walked in looking a
little more on the weary side than usual.

“Hey, Bee,” she said in a tired voice.

“Hey, Les.”

“How's everything?”

“Ah, you know, study, study, study,” I announced. For
a moment, I contemplated telling her the whole situation with Emerson, but she
didn't look like she was up for a long conversation. Besides, I didn't know if
I
was up for one. And after four days, I knew she was going to give me hell
for not telling her sooner, which only made me dread it more.

“Yeah, me, too,” she replied. “And, I’m exhausted. At
least, I've been able to sleep well enough the past two nights.”

I cocked my head to the side. Leslie was usually a
sound sleeper. I began to wonder what had previously been causing her to lose
sleep.

“Umm. Why weren’t you sleeping? What was wrong
before?”

“Huh? You didn't notice? Oh, right, you've been at the
library until late these past couple of nights.”

“Yeah, I've got those three big essays due. It's just
easier to write them where all of the reference books and journals are. Plus,
there are no distractions like there are here. I’m just glad the library stays
open until eleven a few nights a week.”

“Well, those jerks next door kept me up again on
Tuesday night playing DJ and blasting their music at full volume. It was so
loud that everything in my room was vibrating. I beat on the wall, but that
didn’t do any good. I even tried to be nice and tell the crazy chick in the
hall that they needed to keep it down. It didn’t work and I couldn't take it,
so I called the cops.
That
shut them up.”

My mouth dropped open. “You did
what?!
”

“Like I said, I called the cops. I’d given those jerks
enough warnings, and they didn't seem to matter, so I just did what I had to
do.”

“But you know there's a ton of alcohol in their place,
right? I mean…they might have gotten into a lot of trouble, Les.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “So? They knew the risk
they were taking. They insisted on carrying on with the noise as if that place
was a damn club or something. I'm sorry, Brooke, but sometimes people like only
learn one way — the hard way. It had to be done.”

“So what happened?”

“The cops showed up and shut the party down. That's
all I know. I fell asleep a few minutes after the noise stopped.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Well, whatever. They've been quiet ever since,
haven't they?”

“I guess they have.”

“Well, BeeBee, I'm exhausted. Time for bed. I'll see
you in the morning.”

“Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Leslie walked out leaving me shocked, confused, and
curious. I wondered if all of that had happened before or after Emerson had
gotten back from visiting his dad. Not that I’d have known, considering he had
ignored me since he left on Monday morning. What if Emerson and Chris had been
arrested? Maybe that had been why he hadn't called me or had any contact.

That didn’t add up, though, when I thought about the
times I'd called and messaged Emerson on Monday. That had been a full night and
day before Leslie had called the cops on them, and he hadn't replied to
anything.

My phone buzzed just as I was considering sending
Emerson another text, this time about chemistry class and the lab we needed to
make up. It wasn’t Emerson texting me, though. It was Garrett. I'd given him my
number in chemistry class the day before, after he'd asked if it would be
possible to get my help with some of the concepts he was having a hard time
grasping. So, I expected questions about chemistry class. What I got, instead,
were photos. I opened them, and my eyes widened with surprise.

The message above the pics read:
Your buddy Emerson happens to be pretty close to the dean of our faculty!
Saw 'em outside the supermarket.

The photos were of Emerson hugging the Dean and
getting into her car. One picture was clear and sharp.
I had to admit, the woman looked familiar, but I hadn’t really dealt
with anyone in the faculty who hadn’t been one of my professors. I immediately
opened a browser window on my laptop and went to the school’s website. A few
clicks later, I was reading all about the woman in the photos. I enlarged her
staff photo and studied her. That’s when it hit me. The Dean of Faculty was
Emerson’s
mother
!

She
had
to
be. Emerson had her eyes and a number of other similar facial
features. I was a little blown away. We had talked about his parents a few
times before and, while he had told me a lot about his father, he had been
pretty vague about his mother, even when I had asked straight up questions
about her. I knew from our conversations that she and his dad had divorced when
he was ten years old, that she still lived nearby, and that he saw her fairly
often.

Why the hell hadn't he told me that she was the
freaking
Dean
of our college?!

That was a pretty big deal. Seriously. I couldn’t wrap
my mind around why he would deliberately lie to me about it.

Whatever his reason, all he had done was add more fuel
to the fire that had been blazing for four days — a fire that was burning
anything I thought we might have to the ground.

I wasn’t up for discussing anything about Emerson with
anyone, so I put an end to it before it started by sending a rather benign
message to Garrett telling him the dean was Emerson’s mother, and then I turned
my phone off. I skulked off to my room, crawled into bed, and curled up under
the blankets. Somehow, through the swirling emotions, sleep managed to find me
quickly.

***

Emerson didn't show up for chemistry class — again. We
were supposed to do a practical together. After class, I spoke to the professor
about it and she said she'd try to get in touch with him. She suggested that,
in the meantime, I could partner with Garrett since he'd joined the class late
and was acting as third wheel to another pair of lab partners.

Maybe Emerson's “dedication” to chemistry class had
all been part of his charade, too. Just another elaborate ruse he set up for
the sole purpose of getting me into bed. It seemed that since his mission had
been accomplished, he didn't care anymore.

“Well done, Emerson. You succeeded there. I hope
you're proud of yourself,” I muttered to myself as I left the lecture hall and
shot Garrett a text telling him what the professor suggested and giving him a
time to meet at the lab.

***

Garrett showed up to the lab early, looking a little
more chipper than usual.

“Well, hey there, gorgeous,” he said playfully.

“Come off it, Garrett. We're here to work,” I
explained, although I couldn't deny there was a subtle smile on my lips. He had
a way of making me chuckle. It didn’t hurt that he was pretty good looking,
too.

“All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, isn't
that what they say?” he responded.

“They do, but there's a time for work and a time for
play, and now's not the time for play.”

“Alright, alright,” he conceded.

We got the experiment set up. Garrett worked quickly
and efficiently and with great focus. I was impressed. We finished in record
time and cleaned everything up just as efficiently.

As I was packing the last of the equipment away, he sidled
up to me.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“You're not seeing anyone right now, are you?”

I tried not to stop what I was doing abruptly, but his
question caught me off guard. How was I supposed to respond considering the
mess going on with Emerson and the scars left over from Andrew? Sure, Garrett
seemed like a really nice guy, and let’s not forget that good-looking aspect,
but there was no way I was going to get into anything at the moment. I had too
many unresolved emotions. Still, it wouldn't have been right to have lied to
him either.

“No, I'm not — but I'm not looking to, either. Things
are…complicated. And I'm way too busy for anything like that.”

“Oh, no, no, I wasn't trying to suggest anything,” he
said hurriedly.

“Oh. Alright.”

“I was just asking,” he said with a warm smile.
“Because if you had a boyfriend, I wouldn't want him to get upset about you
hanging out with guy friends, like me. I know some guys get super jealous about
any guy their girlfriend is hanging out with, even nice, harmless gentlemen
like me.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling as if I had totally
overreacted to his question. “No, no need to worry about that. There's no man
in my life to cause any trouble if we want to hang out as friends.”

“Yeah,” he said with a big smile. “Friends. So,
remember I bought those tickets from you for the film festival? Well, my buddy
who was gonna go with me bailed. And that's next weekend, right?”

“Yeah, next weekend.”

“Right, so that means I've got this spare ticket.”

“Uh-huh.” I could already see where he was going.

“And was wondering if you wanted to go with me? Just
as friends, of course.”

“As friends, huh?”

“Totally as friends.”

He flashed me another one of those smiles. It seemed
innocent enough, but I had to wonder if there was more to it. I gave him the
benefit of a doubt.

“Alright,” I said. “Sounds good.”

“Excellent. So, next weekend then, after your RAG
trip. You are going on that RAG trip, right?”

“Yeah, I am,” I replied. “How'd you know about that?”

The RAG group had organized a four-day trip for the
coming week since there would be a long weekend because of a holiday. We would
be visiting some underprivileged communities in the surrounding areas to help
set up organic gardens so they could grow their own food.

“Oh, I just overheard some people talking about it.”

“Yeah, I'm pretty excited about it, actually. We're
leaving tomorrow morning.”

“Awesome. I'm sure you guys will do a lot of good
work.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Cool. Well, I'll see you next week when you're back.
Enjoy the trip!”

“I will! See you then.”

He waved goodbye and then walked out of the lab, still
wearing that strange smile on his face.

***

I returned from my RAG trip feeling pretty good —
exhausted, but good. I'd stayed so busy during the trip that I hadn't really
had much time to do anything other than work hard and sleep. We had risen early
every morning and gone to bed late every night. I'd been dead tired by the end
of each day, so there hadn't been any time to sit and stew over Emerson — who
still hadn't called me or even texted. But in some ways, that was good for me.
I returned feeling a renewed sense of focus, and my first class after the break
was chemistry. That meant seeing Garrett.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile when I sat down next
to him. “How was your trip?”

“It was great!” I responded, happy to have someone
enthusiastic to talk to about it.

“Awesome! I bet you helped a lot of people.”

“I sure hope we did. I learned so much, too. It was a
rather empowering experience, overall. I'm so glad I did it.”

“You'll have to tell me all about it sometime. Say, is
it too late in the semester to join RAG?”

“You want to join RAG?”

“I’ve been thinking about it. I've volunteered in the
past. I've just been too busy recently that it’s been on the back burner, but,
you know, it's something that's part of you, right? An intrinsic slice of who
you are as a person. I don’t know; sometimes I think I have some sort of weird
addiction to helping others.”

I smiled. “There are worse things to be hooked on.”

“True. If I had to choose between being hooked on
crack and hooked on charity, I know which one I'd pick!”

I laughed, and he chuckled along with me.

“So, you are still interested in coming to the film
festival with me, right?”

“Yes, I am. I didn't forget.”