Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
EMERSON
In a daze, I drove to campus. All the thoughts of yesterday had fled, and I replayed my time with Colter over and over. Which wasn’t the best idea, considering I had to meet with my advisor and go to classes with soaked panties.
Parking took longer since it was mid-morning, and I had to run to the library so I wouldn’t be late. My skin crawled at the blatant stares, and I pulled my jacket closer, keeping my eyes fixed in the distance. I wouldn’t run away or cry today.
“Professor Jameson?” I asked when I came upon the middle-aged woman. She glanced up from her work, eyeing me.
“Emerson?”
I nodded, and she gestured to the seat in front of her. After an hour of going over expectations, a timeline, and my topic—How dance heals the body and soul—I was almost late to my next class.
I skidded into the door right as the final bell rang. The students glanced up and eyed me, dismissing me when the teacher cleared his throat. My eyes flicked up front, my face heating at being put on the spot .
“Name?” he asked.
“Emerson. Emerson Adams.”
He nodded, marking something on his computer. “Please take a seat. Unless you want to teach?”
I shook my head, my face warming more. “Nope. I’ll…” I glanced around the small classroom, not seeing any open spots.
“There’s one in the back.”
My feet moved before I spotted the seat, trusting the teacher hadn’t sent me on a wild goose chase. The quicker I was away from his intense stare, the better. I finally spotted the open spot at the very last row, the furthest from the door. I moved down the aisle toward the two-person table and sat down. I pulled out my drawing pad and pencils I’d picked up at the bookstore, trying to listen to the teacher as he reviewed the syllabus.
I’d blame my embarrassment for not noticing who I sat next to. My focus had been on the teacher and trying not to make a scene. The second my awareness came online, I felt him.
His hand jutted out, touching the spot Colter had just given me hours ago, and my body responded at his touch. I fought to focus on the front, hoping he’d leave me alone if I ignored him. No such luck.
The brute leaned down, his breath sending shivers through me at his closeness. “If this is from Cody, I’ll make sure he never fucking plays football again.”
Gasping, I turned and brought my face mere centimeters from Holden’s. His eyes were no longer blank, like the past two times I’d stared into them. The aquamarine blazed to life, threatening to light me up if I touched it. The problem was, I didn’t know if that was a deterrent or incentive. It should be an easy answer, but nothing with Holden ever was. Not anymore.
He stared, unblinking, and the rest of the class faded. How did I keep finding myself in this situation with Holden? I needed to stay away from him. Nothing had changed, and I knew where he stood.
But I couldn’t.
The same masochistic tendency I had all summer whenever I heard “Lose Control” seemed to apply to the man himself. I had no control when it came to Holden Adler.
“It’s none of your concern,” I said instead of the truth. I was tired of feeling on the losing end when it came to Holden.
“The fuck it isn’t,” he said, his words a growl.
“I’m sorry, but have things changed since yesterday when you told me it didn’t matter what we wanted?”
He gritted his teeth, not answering.
“Yeah. I didn’t think so, which means it’s not your concern.” I narrowed my eyes. “If I find out you hurt one hair on Cody’s head, I’ll make you regret it, Holden.”
“What are you going to do, Wildcat? Knee me in the balls again?” He smirked, making fun of me.
I leaned closer, enjoying how his pupils dilated and his breath halted. “Fuck around and find out.” I paused, licking my lips. His eyes tracked the movement, giving me some of my confidence back. “That knee will feel like a tickle compared to what I’m capable of.”
My mouth was writing checks I had no idea how to cash, but I wouldn’t let him punish Cody. Granted, I could just tell him the truth, and he’d have no reason to touch Cody. But his jealousy made me feel good, and I liked that feeling too much.
His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared. It was a look I seemed to bring out in Holden every time we were together. “Awfully bold from someone who claims they had nothing to do with Hope’s bullying.”
I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Wake up, Jockstrap. Hope hasn’t been bullied a day in her life. She’s the bully . Has been since freshman year when she tripped me during the dance team tryout and pushed me into another dancer. Your sister isn’t a nice person. I bet if you asked someone not in her circle, you’d be surprised at how far her reach has grown.”
Holden opened his mouth, but closed it before saying anything. The shadow on the table, followed by the teacher’s voice, told me why.
“Problem, Mr. Adler?”
“Emerson said a #2 pencil was the same as a 9B, and I couldn’t let that stand,” he lied smoothly.
“Well done, Mr. Adler. I hope you learned something, Miss Adams. You’re lucky to have Holden as a partner.”
“Partner?”
“Yes.” His brows furrowed. “I explained it a minute ago. You’re to draw each other how you see them, not as they are. It’s due next week. I expect great things from you two.”
“Yes, sir.” Holden nodded, and I frowned. He could be so nice to this stuffy professor, but me, the girl who’d rode his dick all night long months ago, he could barely tolerate? Rude.
Holden pulled out a well-loved pencil case, confusing me even more. It had scratches and dents, with words drawn on the case in other colors. He saw me staring and moved it.
“Not everyone can afford top of the line,” he spat, staring at the pristine case I had.
“That wasn’t why I stared, Jockstrap. You’re an artist.”
“I’m not.”
“Yet you’re in this class…”
“So are you. Are you an artist?” he challenged.
“No. But it was the only elective that fit my schedule. I’m fully aware of my limitations.”
Holden’s eyes searched mine, and I wished I knew what he was thinking. After a minute, he returned to his pad and put his arm around it, blocking my view. It was then I realized he was left-handed. How weird to learn these basic things about him, yet feel like I knew him to my core in the same breath?
I opened my pencil case and stared at the assortment of numbers and letters. Picking up a random pencil, I tapped it against the white paper. What did I see Holden as? Football seemed like the logical choice, but it also felt too easy. From what I’d gathered, Holden’s whole focus was football, and I wanted him to see himself as more than the sport, even if I hated him.
I had to learn that when Hope stole dance from me. Dance couldn’t determine my worth, and neither could football for Holden.
My hand moved on the paper, making broad strokes. The graphite was light on the paper, helping it not be critical if my strokes were incorrect. Somehow I got lost in the drawing, focusing on the parts I could do well and leaving the areas that needed more detail for last. When the bell rang, my hand was cramped, and my arm had graphite on it, but I smiled at my picture.
“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” Holden barked, making me laugh.
Yep. He was so a German Shepherd. Sandy had inspired me to see people as dogs, and after Colter had introduced me to his favorite dog, Scout, I couldn’t help but see the similarities.
Loyal. Fierce. Determined. Protective. Aloof to strangers.
“No peeking,” I said in response, shutting my pad. Holden rolled his eyes, but I caught the slight tug of his mouth. He glanced down at my arms, the tug growing larger.
“Graphite looks good on you, Wildcat.” He winked and climbed to his feet, leaving me stunned in my seat.
Whenever I thought I had the upper hand, he’d spin me out, leaving me discombobulated. Other students filtered in for the next class, and I jumped up, remembering I also had a class to get to. One of these days, I’d make it to a class on time.
Thankfully, my last class wasn’t far from the art building, and I made it before capturing another teacher’s ire. Astronomy was in an auditorium, already brimming with students. I sat at the end of a row, hoping to avoid any trouble for this class. I knew my luck had been too good when Hope walked in with Kimmy, and what I’d gathered were her Zeta sisters, hot on her trail. She entered every room like a queen, confidence I could never replicate. If I didn’t hate her, I’d almost be impressed.
Ducking my head down, I pulled my hair in front of my face, turned my body, and prayed they didn’t see me. They joined a group of girls dressed similarly to them, in cute skirts and dresses, at the front. I didn’t begrudge their fashion choices, but I never understood the desire to wear heels to class. I preferred comfort to style any day.
The class started, the professor droning on up front, but no one seemed to pay him attention. His gray hair stuck out at all angles, and his shirt was untucked on one side. His voice was soft, and I could barely hear him over the chatter. I’d need to sit further up if I planned to learn anything.
“He puts all the slides online. That’s why no one pays attention,” the guy next to me said. I hadn’t noticed him take a seat, too focused on Hope.
“Ah. Thanks.” He looked me over, recognition lighting his eyes, and I knew he realized I was the girl from the video.
“You’re new.”
“So they tell me.”
He smiled, licking his lips and I forced myself not to grimace. “Well, new girl. Let me welcome you to Hayward with a tour.”
“That’s all right. I’m good.” I glanced at my paper like I was taking notes.
“Nonsense. You don’t know all the best spots. For instance, I work at the best dance club in town and can get you in for free.”
That got my attention. “Dance club?”
His pupils dilated, and he nodded, leaning forward. A wave of his cologne wafted over me, and I gasped, breathing through my mouth so I didn’t choke on the smell. It was so strong. Unfortunately, he took my gasp as interest.
“Yeah, it’s called Club Ember. Want to meet me there tonight? Your drinks will be on the house, new girl.” His eyes traveled over me, and I shifted to cover myself. I didn’t like the way he leered.
“Do they have dancers or just a place for people to dance?” The need to dance for myself had become a necessity with all the shit going on. Midnight sessions weren’t cutting it. I wanted to dance with other people.
“You like to watch girls dance, new girl? Are you a carpet muncher?”
This time, I couldn’t hold back the grimace. “Does that mean there are?” I ignored his homophobic slur, deciding to pick my battle. He rolled his eyes, sitting back in his chair. Ah, it seemed like the dude didn’t like me anymore. Ha! Too bad.
“Yeah, there are dancers. Good luck with that,” he scoffed.
“Speaking from experience, drink boy?”
“Bitch,” he mumbled. “No wonder those girls drew on you.”
The air in my lungs stalled, and the reminder of that day returned to the forefront of my mind.
Hope and the dance team were laughing and poking at my body. They’d dumped milk on me during lunch and stolen my spare clothes from my locker, so I had nothing to wear when I went to change. They’d surrounded me, pointing out all my flaws and drawing on me to tell me where I needed to get work done. That had been one of the worst days of my life .
My skin felt tight, and a sickening sensation crawled over me the longer I sat there. Hoping the asshole hadn’t lied about the slides, I grabbed my notebook and bag and fled from the room. I was two for four on actually making it through classes.
My feet moved independently, and when I climbed the steps to the library, I wasn’t all that surprised. I didn’t know if Colter would be working, but the calmness of the library was the balm I needed. Finding a hidden corner on a random floor, I sat on the floor, pulled my arms around my legs, and held myself. Surrounded by books, the quiet, and the dark, I finally calmed down, my body feeling like my own again and not a foreign appendage.
Pulling out my phone, I texted Cody and checked in with Taylor. I heard footsteps quicker than expected and looked up when he rounded the corner.
“Peanut?”
“I told you not to call me that.”
“But Peanut, it fits you so well!” he teased, and I instantly felt better. He sat on the floor beside me, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. I’d only known him for a day, but it felt longer after yesterday’s events. “Fancy meeting you here,” he said after it had been quiet.
“I left class. Some dudebro hit on me, and when I turned him down, he first called me a homophobic slur and then threw the video in my face. All the memories of that day rushed back, and I couldn’t be there anymore.”
Cody draped his arm around my shoulders and kissed my forehead. “Want me to beat him up?”
I laughed, wiping tears I hadn’t known had fallen. “He’s not worth it, but thank you.”
“Of course, babe. How was the rest of the day?”
I filled him in on my morning with Colter and art class with Holden. Then I remembered the threat and turned to him, grabbing his arm .
“I might have accidentally claimed you gave me a hickey.” I cringed, my face heating.
Cody lifted his eyebrows and wiggled them. “Accidentally? Let me see my handiwork.” He turned my head, his eyes widening at the sight. “Damn, I’m good.”
I shoved him away, my face heating. “Holden threatened to hurt you, and I told him he’d regret it if he touched a hair on your head, so if he does, let me know.”
Cody rolled his eyes. “I can hold my own, Peanut.”
“It’s the principle, Cody!”
He chuckled. “Okay, okay. Can we get off this floor now? My butt’s gone numb.”
“Heaven forbid your ass loses feeling,” I teased. We both laughed, walking out from the row and abruptly stopping at the sight of the man glaring at us both.
“What’s up, Captain?” Cody said, grinning. He placed his arm around my shoulders and smiled smugly at Holden. I elbowed him. It was one thing to accidentally not tell him the truth, quite another to poke the bear, or German Shepherd, in Holden’s case.
The man in question eyed Cody’s arm, his fingers flexing, but he stayed quiet, glowering at us before turning and stomping off in the other direction.
“Dude has it bad for you, Peanut.”
“I think you mean he hates my guts.”
“That’s not hate, babe. That’s possessive lust. I’m gonna need extra padding today at practice.”
“No, you won’t. Just tell him you’ll tell me.”
“Yeah. Because tattle-telling is badass. Sic my girlfriend on my QB?”
“Then pack extra ice, too,” I huffed and stomped off. Why could guys protect girls, but if girls tried to do the same, it made them weak?
“Peanut! Don’t be mad.” He laughed, catching up to me. “I’ll be good. I promise to report back to you. ”
We didn’t see Holden on our way out, so we separated at the quad. Cody headed to grab a snack before practice while I continued to the parking lot. I looked up the club the asshole had mentioned while I walked and noticed a now-hiring banner on their website. Clicking on it, my eyes bulged at the hourly rate. It might be worth a stop on the way home.
I neared my car with trepidation, sighing in relief when there wasn’t a rose in sight. The drive to Club Ember was quick, and I pulled into the empty parking lot. A beefy guy at the door gave me a look, but let me in.
“Can I help you?” a guy asked. He was so pretty that I stumbled. His muscles had muscles, and I’d never seen cheekbones that pronounced before. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties, and if I had to guess, he was the manager.
“I, um, saw you were hiring.”
“How old are you?” he asked, eyeing me.
“Twenty-one.”
“You have any experience?”
“Sorta. I’ve never served, but I can dance.”
He walked around the bar and eyed me. Not in a predatory way, but more like he was determining if I’d be worth the interview. Finally, he said, “Pick a song and show me what you got.”
He nodded to a stage with a DJ booth, and I gulped. I hadn’t expected to dance right this second, and nerves hit me. Pulling out my phone, I selected a song and removed my shoes and jacket. I did a few stretches, grateful I’d worn a loose dress. When the music played, I let my body move how it wanted, telling the story of the past few days and releasing everything I’d held in.
I lost myself in the rhythm, even forgetting I had an audience. This was where I sparkled. Feeling this confidence was a pleasant reminder of who I’d become the past two years. Working at the club would be a good reminder of that. It would be more than a paycheck.
As I finished, slowly returning to reality, I looked at the bar. The man leaned against the counter, his face calculated. “I’ll be honest. That was better than I expected. Most girls come in and think they can dance, but all they know how to do is shake their ass and tits, which, let’s be fair, is what most of our customers want.” He paused, chewing something over. “Are you sure you want to work here? That was art, and I feel like I’m doing you a disservice by giving you a job in a club.”
“If I can dance however I want, then I want the job.” I kept my head held high.
“You go to Hayward?” I nodded. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Mer,” I said with confidence. Time to take back my identity.
“Okay, Mer, I’ll give you a shot. Come back tomorrow when you’re done with class, and I’ll have paperwork for you to fill out. We’ll go over your availability and figure out a schedule. Welcome to Club Ember, Mer.”
I beamed, feeling better already. “Thanks, um, what should I call you?”
He smiled like I’d asked the best question ever. “I’m Hendrix, but you can call me Boss.”