“I am, but I’m worried about Vander. His finances aren’t great, but the financial aid options at Yale are based on ability to pay, and his father’s wealth could be a big issue. I want to find out how we can submit a special case for him.” Vander doesn’t know I’m doing this or that I saw the papers spread out on his coffee table over the weekend. I wasn’t snooping, per se, because his budget calculation was in plain sight. He is paying for his mother’s rehab, and it isn’t cheap. He’ll be lucky if he can afford one year of Yale. I saw applications for student loans, but if he can get financial aid from the college, it’ll save him racking up a ton of student debt. I want to help if I can.
“I’ll talk to Carly tonight and see if she can give Della a call. I’m sure she’d be willing to talk to you.”
“Great, thanks.”
I stop by the printing room on my way back to my desk to copy a few files, inwardly groaning when I walk inside and find Greg there. He’s standing at one of the copiers, loading papers into the document feeder. He only returned to work recently, and I have managed to avoid seeing him until now.
“Kendall.” He jerks his head in acknowledgment as I walk by.
“Gregory.” It takes effort to sound civil.
Tension bleeds into the air as I walk to the farthest copier, putting as much distance between me and Vander’s father as possible. I do my best to ignore him as I remove papers from the first file and put them into the document feeder. The whooshing of the copiers is the only sound in the room as we purposely ignore one another. I wet my dry mouth and focus on the task at hand, wanting to get in and out as fast as possible.
My heart rate accelerates when I spy Greg walking toward me, out of the corner of my eye. Bypassing me, he crouches down just behind me, searching for something on the supplies shelf. My hands shake as I reach for my second file, inserting more paper into the document feeder as I lean over and collect the copies of the first file along with the originals.
Something brushes against my leg, and I turn rigidly still. My heart jackhammers behind my rib cage as a tickling sensation creeps up the inside of my leg. Blood rushes to my head, and panic sluices through my veins as fingers brush along my inner thigh. I stumble to the side, gripping the copier for support as I swallow over the bile collecting in my throat. “What are you doing?” I stare at Greg as he straightens up.
He flashes me a blinding smile while waving a wad of envelopes at me. “Dropped these. Oops,” he lies.
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t touch me again.”
He steps forward, putting himself all up in my space. “Or what?” The amused look on his face irritates me to no end, and I straighten up and glare at him.
“Or I’ll report you to human resources.”
He chuckles, but it’s a low menacing sound. “Do you honestly think Paul Cummings would give a shit?” He backs me up, against the printer, trapping me in the corner with no way out. I wish I could remember any of the moves Vander showed me last week, but my brain is mush as terror does a number on me.
“I bill millions of dollars every year, honey.” He runs his fingers down my cheek, and I move to swat his hand away when he grabs my wrist and squeezes it. “I could bend you over this copier and fuck your brains out, and no one would give a damn.” He thrusts his pelvis into me, and acid churns in my gut as I feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against my stomach. His fingers sweep down my neck. “We should try that sometime.” Leaning in, he licks up my neck, and it’s a miracle I don’t puke all over him. “Now that we’re both spouseless and free as a bird.”
“You couldn’t pay me to touch you, and if you don’t get away from me, I’ll scream.”
He steps back, holding his hands up like he wasn’t just groping me against my will, chuckling again. “This is going to be fun. I am really going to enjoy it.” He blows me a kiss as he backs toward the door. “Until next time, sexy.”
35
VANDER
“Senior year is shit,” Shep grumbles as we make our way out of school on Friday afternoon.
“It’s nearly over.” I remind him while we walk toward the parking lot. “We are already into February, so there are only three more months of school before we graduate. I thought you were happy with your college acceptance.”
“I am. I just thought this year would be more fun. It’s our last year together before everything changes. We should be enjoying it, but we can’t hang at your place anymore, West is a grumpy motherfucker, and Bowie is still being an asshole. It sucks.”
“We can hang out at my new place sometimes, but we can’t party like before. I promised Jimmy I wouldn’t piss off the neighbors.” There are apartments over most of the business premises adjacent to the boxing club, and I don’t want to cause issues for Jimmy when he has helped me so much. Also, I want to keep my weekends free so I can see Kendall. We don’t have much time together, and with Curtis being a dick over the divorce and constantly switching the days he takes Ridge, I need to be fluid with my weekend planning.
I reach my truck just as Gayle Turner slides behind the wheel of her BMW a few cars down. She revs the engine, scowling as she flips me the bird through the window before she peels out of the parking lot.
Shep laughs. “She really hates your guts now.”
“Thank fuck.” I unlock my truck and throw my book bag in the back alongside my gym bag. I just about have time for a quick training session before I’m picking up Kendall to get her tattoo. “Took her long enough.” I climb into the driver seat and roll down the window. “Later, dude.” We touch knuckles through the window, and then I floor it out of there.
* * *
“Hey, Van.” Stella greets me at the door to Kendall’s house a few hours later. “The Sulk is up in his room.”
“The Sulk?” I quirk a brow as I step into the hallway.
“It fits West to a T right now. He is so freaking moody all the time.”
