Katie 2 (Desires #5)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Katie

I head to my next class, adjusting my books in my arms. I wish I could fit them all in my backpack, but that’s just not possible with my laptop, notebooks, and my purse. Thankfully, today, I only have my psychology textbook and my pre-law textbook.

With one earbud in my ear replaying the lecture I recorded from the last class, I’m ready to dive into class. I’m confident about the mini-essay I’m turning in, as if I’m defending a client, and I feel satisfied after last night.

I’ve never not felt satisfied after having all three of my boyfriends in a day.

Boyfriends now.

Not stepbrothers. Not stepfather.

Am I a homewrecker? No. I’m not. I mean… technically, there’s gray area with Henry, but I didn’t go out of my way to seduce him. I just… let it happen. I let myself enjoy him. I try to shake the thought and focus on getting to class on time.

The hair on the back of my neck pricks and I pause, then try to glance behind me as inconspicuously as possible. I’m sure it’s Brad. It has to be Brad because no one else would linger in shadows instead of coming right out and speaking to me.

It’s not like Henry’s ever been the kind of man to follow me around school or anything like that. It’s Brad specific. I shudder slightly at the thought. I’m dressed appropriately today. Leggings and a white knit sweater that slides off my shoulder, but it doesn’t reveal anything. It’s more cute than hot, and there’s no way Brad can be frustrated with that.

Shaking my head, I dismiss it. If he wants to keep creeping in the shadows, I’ll let him enjoy the game. I have to focus on class. Pre-law is a mess of half-understood sentences and students interrupting until I don’t remember the point.

So I stay a little later after class and talk to Dr. Morrison. She nods. “I know today was a hard one, Katie. But you know this material.”

“It makes more sense when you provide examples, and this chapter seems too simple. I understand it and I can recite it all back to you, but I don’t think I could put it into practice with the previous chapter,” I explain.

She takes a slow breath, then looks up a few things. Her eyes slant to mine. “I won’t do this for every student, but since class was a mess, I’ll send you some court cases that clearly show this. Also, if I remember right, you’ve been attending Carter’s lectures.”

I try to swallow my blush, but I’m sure I don’t succeed. I nod anyway.

“He provides his email and goes in depth with these subjects. If you’d like, I can also record the next class and send you what I get—I need to do it anyway for some of the online students,” she offers.

“That would be amazing. Thank you. I don’t just want to pass the tests or essays. I really want to know this material,” I insist.

Dr. Morrison smiles. “I’m glad to hear it. This kind of drive will take you far, but remember, you’re only twenty-one, Katie. You don’t have to grow up too fast.”

I dismiss that thought, thank her again, and head out. I don’t bother to tell her that when the students weren’t interrupting her, I kept feeling like I was being watched and couldn’t pay attention no matter how much I tried.

Normally, it doesn’t bother me. At least, it didn’t bother me last semester, but it feels different today. I try to push all that paranoia away. I’m fine. I’m healthy. I’m happy living with my boyfriends. I’m glad that we have the new apartment that’s close to campus throughout the week and things are going well.

Henry got the divorce, Carter is kicking ass, and Brad… well, he’s happy. I think he’s happy, isn’t he? He would tell me if he wasn’t… I think. He’s harder to pin down than most people, though, so who knows? I should know.

That’s what it comes down to in my head. I should know if my boyfriend isn’t happy. I should know if he wants something that he’s not getting. I should be more in tune with him. I suck my bottom lip and glance around, being more obvious about it.

It feels like whoever’s watching is getting closer, which means I should be able to see them, but instead, their gaze feels like an itch across my neck, my shoulders, and my chest. I lightly scratch at my chest and turn to go to my psychology class, continuing to look around, searching for Brad’s familiar face.

I just need one glimpse of him and I’ll know that I’m not losing my mind and that I’m safe. Just as I give up finding Brad’s face in the crowd and decide to text him, I run into someone. My books spill out of my arms and I nearly drop my phone. Closing my eyes a second to catch my breath, I huff and put my phone in my back pocket, then bend down to grab my things.

When I stand up, I turn around, trying to catch my bearings, and find Dan there. He smiles. “What a surprise, Katie.”

I blink at him. I only remember his name because I had to defend him to my men. Why on earth would he remember mine? I tuck my hair behind my ear and force a smile. “Hi.”

“I thought that was you earlier, but I wasn’t sure,” he continues.

“Earlier? What do you mean?” I ask before clearing my throat, even though I feel my hope for Brad dropping. I miss his sliding into my classes and working me up.

I miss our private little games even if they happened in front of everyone else.

“Well, I wasn’t sure it was you and I didn’t want to walk up to a stranger, but then you looked all panicky and I got worried you were being followed or something,” Dan says with an innocent smile.

I was being followed… by him, apparently. But pointing that out will achieve all of nothing , so I don’t see the point in saying anything to encourage him. Instead, I nod once and put a bit of space between us.

“Well, I should probably—”

“I don’t know if you have class or something, but I’d still really like to make a case for sociology, you know? Not because I think it’s a great major, but I think you should sit in on a class or two,” he explains, completely ignoring me.

“Why do you think that?’

“You said you’re doing pre-law stuff, and sociology is the study of how people interact, which I think is pretty important to law. Isn’t the whole thing based on what a rational person would do in a given situation?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly.

He’s not overstepping at all. He’s not being a dick or being creepy, but there’s something about him that just makes me feel… uncomfortable. Maybe he’s just too happy, has too much of that ‘I’m really nice, I’m not a problem’ vibe that makes me feel like he’s not the kind of person I should give another minute of my time to.

But he’s harmless. He has to be.

“See, I just think that one class could get you to at least sit in on a few more or keep that in mind for next semester,” he says brightly.

“I’m graduating at the end of this semester,” I point out.

“Oh. I thought you were a sophomore or junior,” he says. “I see. Well, maybe it would be good for grad school then.”

“I really appreciate it, Dan, but um…” The sensation of being watched multiplies by ten. Well, it hasn’t been Dan watching me.

That gets obvious the more he talks. I nod or smile in what I think are the right places but want to be done with this conversation. I know if Brad sees this, he’s either going to want to prove I’m his by taking me to some semi-public area and fucking me until he’s satisfied and I’m left achy and wanting, or he’ll start a fight with Dan.

It won’t matter that I don’t want Dan, can’t want Dan because of the three men I’m already involved with. Brad’s already made that clear.

He’s not allowed to eye-fuck you or fantasize about you, Carter had said, and I know Brad feels the same way.

“We should do lunch. I’d love to talk more about what you’re doing for grad school. Might give me some ideas for next year,” Dan says, stealing my attention back.

“Oh, you’re a junior?”

“Yep,” he says. “And I’m desperate for some direction.”

“Unfortunately, I’m flying by the seat of my pants, and I really need to go. Later,” I say.

He starts to say something, but I move through the crowd until I see Brad standing there, glowering. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and even though there are plenty of older students, grad students, T.A.s and others walking around, Brad stands apart from all of them. Mostly because he looks pissed—really pissed. I swallow with some difficulty and try to get to him.

I take a breath and walk toward him, willing to put a stop to this right here and now, but when I should be standing toe-to-toe with him… he’s gone. I look around, send him a text asking where he went, but have to give up the search and retreat to class.

“I’ll just deal with it when I get home,” I tell myself. “It’ll be fine.”

And I’m sure it will be, especially if I can tame this annoying, frustrating headache that’s been pulsing in my temple since the end of last class.

Stress is going to kill me yet.