“What?”
“I'm freaking out. My professor-lost-my-project-and-I-have-a-zero!” I yelled in one breath.
“Hey. I got none of that, okay?” He reached out then pulled his hand back. His voice lowered, like he was talking to a child or sick person. “You need a ride back to your apartment right now?”
“Please. I'll pay you or repay you or something,” I whined, walking out of the shop. “I'm sorry I'm acting crazy. A project I submitted last week didn't work. The document is empty. EMPTY!”
“Do you have your laptop with you?” he asked patiently, not at all rushing to the degree I needed.
“No! That's why I need a ride. Please.” I pressed my fingers to my eyes, sighing. Part of me knew I was being irrational. I knew. But, my emotional side gave no shits to being rational. I wanted to punch something. “I can call a cab if you can't.”
“Grace, get in my car. You don't have to pay me, by the way. I don't mind helping you.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I shouted, laughing myself into the passenger side of the vehicle. I buckled in, arms crossed, bag at my feet before he positioned himself to start the engine. “This has never happened to me before. I amalwaysso careful when it comes to school work. I save it all the time, not quite trusting auto save. If I can’t find it...” I gulped. “No, I can't think like that.”
I bounced my knee at an aggressive pace. I needed to dosomething. Sitting in the car, waiting for Mr. Gramps to drive was killing me. “Put it into gear five, bro. Please.”
He started the car, giving me an odd look before pulling out of the parking lot. “Do you know where you saved your project?”
“Yes. My dropbox and my Google Drive, and my external hard drive. The original should be there. Right?” I chewed my lip nervously, the taste of blood almost there. “I've never missed an assignment in my entire life.”
“Now that, I believe.” He smiled, putting his hand on my knee and pushing down. “If you don't chill the hell out with that knee, you're going to dent my car. Seriously. You're losing your shit right now.”
I sighed, closing my eyes. “I'm aware of the mess I am in right now. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
He kept his hand there. On my knee. While he drove. It was so warm, and big, and perfect. I looked at it the rest of the ride back. While walking took quite a bit, it was a short ten-minute drive if we hit a light or two. He pulled up, parked the car, and followed me inside as I dove for my laptop. It took a few seconds to turn on, and each moment felt like a day. “Come on, come on, come on.” I groaned, putting my head into my hands.
“It'll be there. I know it will.” Brock’s voice spoke a little too closely to my ear. It gave me shivers, and they were the good kind of shivers. Then, he put one of those large, sexy hands on my shoulder and squeezed. “Do you have a jump drive with it, too?”
“No. I thought I covered my ass enough to not use one. I lose those tiny things.” My laptop finally turned on, and my heart raced like I sprinted up five flights of stairs. I clicked on the file I had saved to my desktop.
Nada.
Then, I checked the recent documents.
Nada.
“No,” I whispered, panic sinking to an entirely new low for me. The project had taken me weeks. Weeks and countless hours after working all day to complete. This couldn't happen.
“Any luck?” He lowered himself to squint at the screen. “Have you checked your Google Drive?”
I opened it, wishing on a prayer it was there. I sorted through my files and found an old, old version of the project I drafted the first week of the class. I clicked it, seeing the beginnings of an entire nine-week project. I sucked in a deep breath just as tears spilled down my face.
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Brock said, putting his hands on my shoulders. He spun me around, giving me a great view of his handsome face. “The Grace I know wouldn't admit defeat.”
My lip trembled, my nose becoming harder to breathe through. My fists clenched, my stomach hollowed, and I took a deep breath. Brock wiped under my eyes with his large hands. The gesture was so sweet it shocked me.
He pulled back, waiting until I met his serious yet compassionate eyes. “Tell me what you need.”
“What do you mean?” I sniffed, unable to move because his body trapped me.
“If you have to redo the project tonight, I'll help you.”
I thought he was joking, but his jaw was set in that hard line, his chin jutting out daring me to challenge him. “Put me to work.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. This was major. It would take almost no sleep tonight to finish. “You don’t even like me. Most days, I don’t like you.”
