CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Mason hadn’t shown up on my doorstep with a lot of forethought. He totally forgot to bring a fresh pair of clothes, or his school things, otherwise we could’ve washed each other in the shower—kind of like how we’d squished into my dinky bathroom on both Saturday and Sunday to have way too much fun with the soap—and gone to classes together on Monday morning.

But, I had a feeling there’d only been one thing on his mind when he’d driven over the night before.

Such a guy.

He rolled out of bed and left me with a lingering kiss, telling me he’d sit with me at lunch. Then he was gone.

I rushed through my morning ablutions, hoping I’d get to see him before our first class. But no. I slunk into Brit Lit, depressed because I’d missed him. I didn’t even realize Eva was absent from her typical seat next to me until halfway through the hour.

Yikes, I hope her breakup with Alec wasn’t hitting her too hard. She had enough on her plate as it was. I also hoped she hadn’t told her parents about the baby yet. I wanted to be with her, holding her hand when she did, and I hadn’t exactly been available the entire weekend to do much hand holding.

God, I had to be the worst friend ever. I texted her during my free hour, but she didn’t return my call.

I cringed, hoping it was only morning sickness keeping her from checking in and not anger over the fact I had totally blown her off for the past two days.

I thought of Mason all the way through calculus. We’d eventually gotten our math assignment done on Saturday, but I wasn’t sure he’d been able to concentrate very well on his equations. I hoped his being with me didn’t cause him to flunk.

Yes, I was beginning to worry about everything this morning. But something strange had me on edge. A feeling in the air, a freaky premonition that life was going too well. I wasn’t sure what it was. I just seriously wanted it to go away so I could return to the euphoria I’d been dwelling in for the last forty-eight hours.

When I stepped out of class, I automatically glanced around for Mason. Sometimes, we passed each other coming and going here because he had class in this room directly after I did. Today, I really looked forward to brushing by him—wink, wink.

But a familiar face sitting on a bench not far from the doorway stopped me cold. A handful of students walked past, blocking my view, making me panic, because I was sure the vision would be gone when they passed. I told myself my paranoia was getting to me too much today. But after the students moved on, he still sat there, waiting.

For me.

My knees buckled and I had to clutch the wall to support myself. I froze, not sure what to do.

I could scream and run. I could approach him boldly. I could silently try to slip away, hiding behind clusters of people.

But I just stood there, staring at my psycho stalker ex-boyfriend as he leered back with one of his infamous gloating smirks.

“~Found you~,” he mouthed the words so clearly I could actually read what he said.

I turned away from him, planning to stride off, even though I knew that wouldn’t get me far. But then the worst thing possible happened.

Mason appeared, messenger bag slung over his shoulder as he approached his next class. He grinned when he saw me, a warm, private smile that held all the secrets of our weekend passion.

Oh, God. I loved him so much. I could not let Jeremy near him. Jeremy would kill him if he knew how important Mason was to me.

But nothing was going to stop either guy from approaching.

As Jeremy stood, I reacted before my brain could fully process what I was planning. I hurried to Mason. “Professor McGonagall,” I gasped. “Thank God I ran into you.”

Yes, I know I used a ~Harry Potter~ character for him, and a female one at that. But it wasn’t as if I had a whole lot of a time to concoct a foolproof strategy. I was working straight from the hip here. And doing ~just fine~ if you ask me.

Besides, Jeremy had never once cared about my ~Harry Potter~ craze. He wouldn’t know the difference. The clueless Muggle.

Rushing to unzip my bag, I said, “I know it was due last Friday, but I finished my paper and I would really appreciate it if you’d reconsider accepting it late.”

As I yanked my graded Wife of Bath essay from my bag—which had received an A; ~boo yah!~—I finally dared to look up into Mason’s face.

Biting the inside of my lip, I prayed he would play along.

He blinked once, okay, twice. Then he said, “I told you no late assignments, Miss Randall.”

God, I loved him. He fell right into line with my act perfectly. Then again, by the amused twinkle in his eyes, he probably thought this was some kind of kinky naughty schoolgirl foreplay.

“But I worked on it all weekend.” The little hitch in my voice—because I was all keyed up about seeing Jeremy—sounded classic. Hmm. Maybe I should drop virology completely and take up acting.

Mason lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “All weekend, hmm?” The twist of his lips told me he knew otherwise. “On a paper you were supposed to be working on all ~semester~?”

Jeez, did he have to play it quite this good?

I almost glowered at him. But I was still too freaked out about my psycho stalker ex hovering a mere ten feet away, listening to every word we said.

“Please,” I rasped, the fear filtering through me until his expression finally sparked with concern. “Could you just give it a look?”

He nodded with a resigned sigh. “Okay, fine. But this is the last time I’ll make allowances for you.”

When he tried to take the paper from me, I jerked it back. “Wait. I…I need to sign my name.”

My hands shook so hard that when I fumbled my way into my backpack, a tear actually dripped from my cheek.

Mason had mercy on me. “Here,” he said, holding out his own pen, his brows wrinkling as if he was finally figuring out this was not a playful, bantering game.

“Thanks.” I took it from him and lifted my knee to scribble ~Jer is here~ right below where my name was already typed onto the sheet.

I handed it to him and he barely glanced over what I’d written.

“I see.” His eyes flashed to me. “You know, maybe we should go to my office and discuss this in more detail. I have an idea how you can make up some extra credit points.”

“No.” I shook my head. I needed to get him as far away from me—and therefore as far away from Jeremy—as possible before Jeremy realized who Mason really was. I took a step back. “No, I need to get to my next class.”

Mason—damn him for caring so much—wasn’t about to let me go anywhere by myself. “Reese.” He grasped my arm. “Where?” he asked so quietly, only I could hear. He didn’t even move his lips as he spoke.

Before I could answer—not that I was really going to tell him where Jeremy was—a familiar, super creepy arm slithered around my waist.

Jeremy’s potent aftershave gagged me as he tightened his grip.

“There’s my Reese’s Pieces,” he murmured in my ear, cuddling in close. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, baby.”

My entire body went rigid against his, and I could only imagine how white my face was as I gaped up at Mason.

I decided right then and there, I’d never seen him truly mad before. His jaw popped before he turned his attention to Jeremy and looked pointedly at the other man’s arm wrapped around me.

Jeremy hitched his chin in greeting. “So, you’re one of Reese’s professors, huh? You look kind of young to be a teacher.”

“That’s because I’m not,” Mason answered, his voice hard and tight. When he jerked his bag off his shoulder and tossed it to the floor by his feet, both Jeremy and I glanced down at it in confusion.

Neither one of us saw the fist that came streaking out of nowhere.

But seriously, Mason hitting Jeremy in the jaw was flat out amazing. He moved so fast, I had no warning until the slap of flesh and crunch of nose cartilage made me scream out a startled yelp. Jeremy’s grip left me, and he toppled over backward, landing on his ass in the middle of the hallway.

“You hit him,” I said in utter shock, blinking at Jeremy on the floor before I looked up at Mason with the same stunned gaze. “I can’t believe you just hit him.”

That hadn’t been in my plans at all. But I liked this new turn of events. A lot.

“He tried to ~kill~ you,” Mason argued with me as if he thought my shock was from disapproval. “Hell, yes, I hit him.”

I gawked a moment longer before I shook my head. “But that was just so…~cool~.”

Mason’s proud grin was instant. His eyes flashed with heat and he stepped toward me as if he wanted to do a little celebratory kissing.

But, of course, simply hitting the bad guys never kept them down.

One second, my wonderful, amazing, spider-killing, stalker-punching, ex-gigolo soul mate was shifting toward me, looking like he wanted to take me against the wall of the school’s hallway. The next, he noticed something on the floor. His face contorted in horror, and he shoved me—yes, ~shoved~ me—aside before he dove on top of Jeremy.

I stumbled into the wall, taken aback. When I steadied myself enough to focus on the two guys rolling across the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, I was so shocked to watch them actually wrestling I didn’t see what they were wrestling ~for~ until someone yelled, “~Gun~!”

Pandemonium reigned. Girls screamed. People scattered. And a stampede ensued. I was jostled back against the wall as a horde of students torpedoed past me. Crying out Mason’s name in fear for his life, I fought the flow of fleeing traffic to reach him.

God, I was so stupid. I should’ve known Jeremy would be armed and dangerous. And since his knife hadn’t done the trick the last time he’d gone after me, he’d pulled out the big guns this round—literally. Okay, honestly, it was kind of a small handgun he and Mason were fighting over. But I’m sure it still had the capacity to kill a person just as dead as a big gun could.

As soon as a path cleared for me to shove away from the wall, I scrambled toward the wrestling, grunting, swearing men on the floor. No one else had jumped in to assist Mason, so I decided I would, even though my heart was pounding in my chest.

But they were moving so much, constantly struggling to best the other, I had no idea how to help without getting in the way.

About to have a conniption fit, I cried out Mason’s name.

Big mistake.

My hysterical voice took his attention away from the psycho under him, and he glanced my way…just as the gun went off.