Chapter 22
Tessa
He stares down at me and doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Slater?” I prompt.
“I don’t like the idea of you wandering around campus by yourself at night.”
“But I’m equipped. I’ve got my professional walkie talkie, pepper spray, aaaand this.” I pull out my flashlight and twirl it.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Yes. I’m here to keep you safe. It’s literally my job.”
“Then how about, I’m here to keep you company as you make your rounds.”
“You really should be sleeping,” I argue.
“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re wandering campus by yourself at night.”
“So, we’re at an impasse?”
He smirks down at me. “Sure. Come on.” He cocks his head. “I’ll just keep you company for a little while.”
“Just a little while,” I finally cave. “You need to get sleep.” I check my watch.
“We need to walk quickly to get to my next check-in on time.” I speed up, but he keeps up with me easily.
We’re both quiet as I get to the next check-in area and scan my phone.
“So,” I start. When he doesn’t say anything, I glance up at him.
His eyes are alert and focused on everything around us.
“You can relax. Nothing ever really happens. Once in a while, there’s an intoxicated student or a lost fan; other than that, it’s pretty non-eventful. ”
He glances down at me. “You have to deal with drunk students?”
I shrug. “Every once in a while. Honestly, the night shift is pretty boring. After I do my check-ins, I actually sit behind a desk for a few hours. It’s nice because I use that time to get some schoolwork done.”
“When do you catch up on sleep?”
“On the nights I work, I try to get back to my dorm right after lunch. On a good day, I can be in my bed by one and sleep until seven or so.”
“That’s only six hours of sleep.”
“Good job,” I tease him. “It is.”
“Not a lot of sleep.”
“So says the guy who’s doing security with me who didn’t sleep at all today,” I tell him.
“I’m fine. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”
“Because you’re a guy?” I ask skeptically.
“Something like that.”
We get to the next building I need to clear, and I scan my phone, so the door will open.
Once we’re inside, I turn on a few lights and make my way through the hallway, checking classrooms as we go.
When we get to the third classroom, I hear something.
I pause, unsure what it is. I step into the room, and Slater steps in with me.
I hear a sound again, and I go still. Slater drops a hand on my shoulder and pulls me back, stepping in front of me.
I sigh and pull on his arm. “This is my job, remember,” I whisper loudly.
The sound stops, and we both freeze. Once the sound starts again, I move forward again.
The sound gets louder, and I fight my fear.
“What do you think it is?” I whisper to him.
“I don’t think you want to know.” He starts to walk past me.
I grab his arm, stopping. “Wait. Don't go over there.”
He shakes me off. “I’ve got it. You might want to step out, though.”
“Why? What is it?” My voice gets higher with every word.
I am aware that I am the one on security here, but my mind is whirling with terrifying possibilities.
I suddenly remember my flashlight. I grab it and flick it on, nearly blinding myself.
I catch sight of the dark little thing running across the floor, and I scream.
Then it runs straight towards us, and I scream again.
I nearly run over Slater in my rush to get out of its way.
I push him out of my way and jump onto the nearest thing I can find, which happens to be a desk.
My heart is thundering so loudly in my chest, I can barely hear Slater.
“Is it gone?” I ask in a panicky voice. I hear a sound and go still.
It takes me a second. “Wait. Are you...are you laughing at me?” I shine my flashlight around the room until I find him.
He puts his hands up in denial, but he has a huge grin on his face. “That was not funny.”
When he speaks, he’s much closer. “Are you going to get down? Or should we call in backup?” I can hear the humor in his voice, and I shine my light right in his face for a second. He blinks and looks away. “Very funny.”
“Come on. Let’s get you down. It’s gone.” His voice is much gentler this time, but I can still hear the humor lacing his voice.
“Are you sure it’s gone?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yeah. It’s long gone.”
I use my flashlight to scan all around the room. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, but you can ride my back if you want and I’ll carry you out.”
I scoff. “I’m not doing that.” I lean forward and take a deep breath. I move like I’m going to jump off, but his hands suddenly land at my waist.
“I’ve got you,” he says in a low voice and lowers me to the ground.
When I’m on the ground, I stare up at him.
I can’t really see him in the dark, but I can feel him.
He's so close. I take a deep breath and take a step back.
“I need to scan my phone, and then we are getting out of this terrifying building.”
“Come on.” He takes my hand in his, and I’m still too terrified to fight against him. I lead him through the building and scan my phone.
“Okay. Let’s get out of here.” I practically pull him with me down the long hallway and out the front door. I make sure the door is locked behind me, and then I pull my hand from his and whirl around. “Nobody ever hears about what happened in there.”
“You mean when the tiny mouse scared the tough security guard?”
“Slater Thorne,” I reprimand. “Not. A. Word.”
“But I have video footage,” he argues.
I stop walking. “You do not. Do you?”
“Maybe.” He holds his phone out in front of me. I wait a second and then launch forward, trying to snatch it from his hand. He’s too quick for me and lifts it high above his head, where I can’t reach it.
“I am not above climbing you like a monkey to get it,” I tell him.
“I’m not opposed to that,” he says in a low voice. I scowl up at him. I can only see shadows on his face because of the way the streetlamps are positioned. But I’m pretty sure he’s smirking at me. That smirk is dangerous and ridiculously sexy. I take a deep breath and pull back.
“If that video that maybe does or does not exist ever sees the light of day, then you will be dead to me Slater Thorne,” I tell him as I stride past him.
I hear his low, sexy chuckle follow me; and I increase my pace.
“If you’re trying to outpace me, it won’t work,” he says as he joins me once again.
I slow my pace, mostly so that I don’t run out of steam before the end of my shift.
It’s quiet between us for just a few minutes before I let the whole stupid mouse thing drop and move on.
“What’s your major, Hotshot? I know you told me, but I can’t remember. ”
I catch him shaking his head out of the corner of my eye, and it makes me grin. “Security management with an emphasis on IT.”
I look up at him. “Oh, yeah.”
He nods and glances down at me. “Why the look?”
“It just surprises me. I figured you’d get a degree in sports something or other.”
He shrugs. “I love soccer and will continue to play as long as I can, but I won’t do it forever. Someday, I’ll need to do something else.”
“And security is what you want to do?”
“Yeah. It’s a great degree. It combines some business classes, criminal justice, CyberTech, and more.”
“That’s really great, Slater. I can see you doing some really cool work as a security guy. Ooo, maybe like a bodyguard.”
“Bodyguard?”
“Yeah. You know like in the movies or books. There’s always a super sexy, fit bodyguard that’s in charge of guarding the gorgeous female.”
“I’m the sexy, fit bodyguard?” he questions.
“Yep.”
“Are you the gorgeous female in this hypothetical situation?”
I laugh. “Ha. You're funny.” I wait a beat. “That’s cool, though.”
“What about you? What’s with history?”
I look up at him. “History. You know the study of the past.”
“I know what history is,” he grumbles.
I laugh. “Well, you asked.”
“Why are you getting a history major?”
“Why not?” I challenge. “I love history. It’s my favorite, and it’s in my blood. My stepdad and mom are both history teachers, and my brother was a history major as well.” When he doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I want to be a history major as well, I think.”
“You think?”
I grimace. I hadn’t meant to let those words slip out. “Don’t mind me. Yes, I always wanted to be a history major.”
“Wanted in the past tense?” His words hit me hard. “But you don’t want to any longer?”
“Slater,” I growl.
“What?”
I take a breath. “Nothing.”
But he won’t let it go. “What about history do you love?”
“Oh. Everything.”
“Like what?”
“I love,” I pause. “I love reading about history and...I loved my history classes.”
“What else?” he prompts.
“I love going to museums and reading about our past.”
He nods, and we continue on for a little while. “If you had to pick a favorite sport here, which one would it be?”
I’m thankful he finally changed the subject, and I jump on this new subject with enthusiasm. “Soccer.” I glance up at him “And that’s not just because I'm walking with you.”
“You sure?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ve always loved soccer. Of course, I love all college sports, but soccer’s my favorite.”
“Why?”
“Oh, man. What’s not to love?” Wistfulness fills my voice as I start my list. “First, there’s the smell of fresh-cut grass.
That’s like a cue. Then there’s the sun.
” I smile. “I think there’s something special about soccer.
It’s like a free-for-all.” I put a hand up.
“I know that’s not true, but as a fan, it feels that way.
There’s not a ton of rules. There aren’t fouls being called every two seconds or challenges or the game clock stopping every few seconds.
The game just gets to be played. Watching a really talented player dribble the ball around players or make a magnificent kick and score is.
..” I pause. “Breathtaking. It’s sports in its truest nature.
And you don’t have to be a soccer expert to appreciate the game.
A newbie can sit down and watch the game for the first time and understand exactly what’s going on.
It’s simple enough a child can understand it and yet can be appreciated by the greatest athletes in the world.
In soccer, anything can happen.” He doesn’t say anything, and I take a breath. “Uh, that might have been too much.”
“No, Tess. It was perfect. If I didn’t already love the sport, I would love it now.”
I grin. “See? That’s what’s so great about soccer or any sport really.”
“No, just soccer.”
I laugh. “Got it. Soccer is the premiere sport.”
“Yes, it is.” We walk in silence a little bit. “That’s what you’re missing.”
“Come again?” I ask in confusion.
“When I asked you about history, there was nothing there. But when I asked you about soccer, you lit up.”
I frown. “Well, that’s because soccer is a sport. Sports trump history, obviously.”
He’s quiet a beat. “Do your history professors feel that way?”
I laugh. “Oh, good heavens no.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re in the wrong major?”