10. Chapter 10
Chapter 10
VIVIAN
I have been picking up a lot of overtime at work. The stomach bug is still rampaging through the housekeeping staff, so Bailey and I are cashing in big-time, and we both worked last night. I am excited about making the extra money, but it has left me zero time to do my part of the project with Declan.
And here I thought he would be the letdown.
Declan has turned out to be a pleasant surprise. I totally typecast him as some thug who I’d have to carry for our entire project in order to get a decent grade. But he has proven me so wrong. His ability to memorize the information he’d found and have an intelligent discussion with me the other night was shocking. And sexy. And it bothered me both that I had been so judgy and that I wasn’t thinking of him as a weirdo anymore.
I hate when Bailey is right.
Bailey is sleeping in the bedroom today, and I took the couch when we got home from work this morning. I reasoned that she needed the sleep more than I did since she has to go back tonight, and I had to get up early and work on my portion of the assignment anyway. Thankfully Bailey was too tired to argue with me when we got home.
In order to complete my research, I need to head to the library. I am really tight with my money, saving every penny I can for when I start at a real university, and therefore I refuse to buy a laptop of my own. Even if I did buy one, I’d have to pay for the Internet in order to do the research at home anyway, and that is too much of an added expense. I figure I will have to get one when I finally get into a four-year program, and I want it to be top-of-the-line, so I pinch my pennies and instead use the computers at the community college.
I wake up at three and get ready quickly and quietly so I don’t disturb Bailey, then head to the bus stop. I am wiped out and eager to get this class over with. It seems like the overtime is really dragging me down more than normal. The cold isn’t helping matters either. It is yet another day with wind chills in the single digits.
I get to school and am glad to find the computer area relatively deserted, as I figured it would be. Since most of the students have their own devices, it is rare that all the library stations are ever taken.
I settle myself in front of a computer and take out my notebook. I start by looking over my notes to get my essay due for tonight out of the way. It doesn’t take me long, and once that is done, I do more research on nepotism for our project. As I search and take notes, I find it increasingly hard to keep my eyes open and on the screen. I even stand and walk back and forth a couple of times to try and wake myself up. Then a headache starts and I have to stop looking at the screen, the glare making the pain a million times worse.
I check the time and see there are about thirty minutes until I have to be at class. I decide to go over to the class building and wait outside the room, since I’m not making any headway here. I gather my belongings and notice that my arms feel like lead. But I push past the thought and make my way outside. The air is icy and it soothes my headache slightly. I take several deep breaths of the air to try and wake myself up.
The other class is thankfully letting out early when I arrive, and I am able to get in and grab a seat with twenty minutes to spare before my own class starts. I put my arm down and lay my head on it and feel the throbbing in my head slowly ebb away.
The next thing I know I am being shaken awake. “Vivian?” a deep voice barks at me and I sit up straight. The tone of the voice makes me feel like I’m in trouble, and I desperately reach in my brain for what I did wrong, but then the headache slams into me, and I squint against it.
I turn and find Declan beside me and the rest of the room empty.
“Did I sleep through class?” I ask him, horrified.
His eyes seem to soften and a ghost of a smirk covers his lips. “No, actually class is canceled,” he tells me, his voice sounding gentler than the one that woke me up.
“Canceled?”
Declan nods. “Yeah, Professor Edwards sent an email around lunchtime. Didn’t you get it?”
I shake my head, both in answer and to try and remove the fog around it. “I haven’t checked my email since yesterday,” I tell him.
“That would explain why you didn’t reply to mine.”
I scrunch up my forehead. “You sent me an email?”
“Yes, to ask if you wanted to meet in the library to work on our project. When I didn’t hear back from you, I took a chance on you being here.”
“Oh,” I say, still feeling foggy. And completely exhausted.
I blink but end up keeping my eyes shut, my eyelids too heavy to open again. I can feel Declan’s stare studying me. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks, his deep voice softer than I have ever heard it.
I nod and then wince, the motion causing my head to throb. “I have a headache,” I admit, putting my hand to my head.
“You don’t look well. Professor Edwards says he is sick, so maybe there is something going around,” Declan said. “We need to get you home.”
“No, I’m fine,” I say, shifting myself in my seat. “We can just head to the library and, ooph—”
On my attempt to stand, a sudden dizziness comes over me and I am pitched forward. Thankfully, Declan catches me before I careen to the floor.
“You are not fine,” Declan grinds out. His voice has a serious edge to it now, like he’s pissed off. I roll my head back and look up at him, his eyes giving the same serious vibe as his voice. “You need to go home.”
I want to argue, but I am really not feeling well. “I think you’re right,” I finally say. I move to gather my things, but Declan holds me firm.
“Sit,” he instructs and easily pushes me back into my seat. I watch as he gathers all my things from the desk and stuffs them into my bag. Normally anyone looking in my bag would be distressing for me, but currently I really don’t care—I just want to sleep. “Let’s go,” he says when he’s finished, putting his hand lightly on my arm. Despite my feeling like absolute garbage, his touch sends a little electricity up my arm.
“Where?” I ask, baffled.
“I’m going to take you home,” he tells me as he steers me to the door.
“I take the bus,” I tell him, refusing to move as he gives my arm a firm tug.
He glowers at me, as if my answer makes him angry. “You can’t wait out in the cold for the bus; you’re ill,” he informs me.
I do not like his tone. I pull my arm away from him and stand, forcing myself to remain still against the dizzy spell that sweeps through me. “Then I will walk home.”
“It’s ten fucking degrees out. You can’t walk home.”
“I did last week,” I tell him calmly, “and I made it just fine. And don’t swear at me.”
“Last week? Like when it was in the negatives? No wonder you are sick!” he explodes.
“It is actually a fallacy that walking in cold temperatures can make you ill,” I explain to him calmly. I move to go around him and he blocks my path. I heave out a breath and look up at him, squinting against the pressure in my head. “Please may I pass?”
He studies me, like I am a species of being from another world. “I am taking you home,” he finally states. Not an offer, or a question, but a demand.
“No, thank you,” I tell him.
“It wasn’t an offer,” he informs me. He is the sort of man who I am sure is used to his demands being met, and I am sure intimidating to one’s very core. But honestly, I have dealt with a lot of people in my short life that have demanded to be in charge, and I am over it. Also, I feel shittier the longer I stand.
“I’m good,” I say evenly. I push through my dizziness and move to take my bag but am stopped by a word I don’t expect.
“Please?”
Declan utters it so softly, so low, I’m not sure I heard it. And as I process that he actually said it, I realize it was asked as a question. I look up and his eyes are full of concern.
“I would feel much better if I knew you made it home okay. I just want you not to be in the cold, and safe at home.”
I study Declan. He is easily ten inches taller than I am, and he has a broad set of shoulders and chest, making him an intimidating sight. But in that moment, with just his words and his eyes, I feel a warmth in him, and in his gaze something I hadn’t found in him before—concern.
“Okay,” I agree.
Declan wastes no time, grabbing my bag and putting an arm around me to help guide me out the door. I ignore the tingle his light touch gives my body and focus on getting out the door, eager to get into bed now that the adrenaline from our heated debate has faded.