Free Easy by Tammara Webber Page B

pretentious
a-hole. I must admit, I tend to encourage that estimation. So please promise to
keep your opinion to yourself. Reputations can be ruined so easily, you know. ;)
    LM
    PS – Do the worksheet. Before Friday. I’m giving you a very serious look through
this screen. DO THE WORKSHEET. If you have problems with any of the material,
let me know.
     
    Landon,
    What’s stopping me? Well, I’ve blown the chance to go to a serious music school. And I’m
stuck in a state that doesn’t always foster the arts (something I’ll probably
spend my entire teaching career fighting). It seems impossible to go out now
and “do.” I guess I should rethink that.
    Your secret geniality is safe. My lips are sealed.
    JW
    PS – I’m DOING the worksheet, but I’m giving you a very petulant look through my screen. Slave driver. Sheesh.
     
    I was grinning
when I clicked send. Maybe I was playing an entirely different game of chase,
and Lucas and his infuriatingly enigmatic smile could take a flying leap. Erin
and Maggie could keep their make-him-chase-you advice and use it themselves,
because I, apparently, sucked at it in real life. Through email, though… My
happy expression slid away as I realized the stark truth—I was flirting with
someone online. I had no idea what he looked like, or what type of person he
was.
    That wasn’t
exactly true. I knew exactly what type of person he was, even though I’d never
laid eyes on him. He was kind. And intelligent. And straightforward.
    Of course, he
hadn’t beaten a would-be rapist to a bloody pulp for me. Or made my insides
melt when he put his hands on my waist. He probably didn’t have tattoos on his
arms or glacier-gray-blue eyes and a liquefying stare.
    At 10:00 pm, my phone trilled a text alert.
     
    Lucas:  Hi :)
    Me:  Hi :)
    Lucas:  What’s up?
    Me:  Nothing. Homework.
    Lucas:  I wanted to talk to you after class, but you disappeared.
    Me:  I have another class right after. One of those profs who stops talking, stares at you and waits until you get to your seat if you’re late.
    Lucas:  I would probably just walk to my seat even slower. ;)
    Lucas:  You should come by the SB Friday. It’s usually dead. Americano, on the house?
    Me:  Free coffee? I can’t pass that up. I’ll try to stop by. When do you work?
    Lucas:  All afternoon. Til 5.
    Me:  K
    Lucas:  See you Friday, Jacqueline

 
    Chapter 7
     
     
    Lucas was fifteen minutes late to
class on Friday, and we had a pop quiz first thing—which he missed. My first
thought was how irresponsible it was to miss a quiz… and then I remembered that
I missed the midterm . I couldn’t exactly point any fingers.
    He slipped through
the back door as Dr. Heller walked up the center aisle, collecting quizzes. He
took the stacks from the left row and then turned to the right, where Lucas
sat. “I need to see you after class,” he said, his voice low.
    Inclining his head
once, Lucas pulled his text from his backpack and replied in the same subdued
tone. “Yes, sir.”
    I didn’t look back
at him during the remainder of class, and when it was over, he packed up his
backpack and walked down the outside aisle to the front. While waiting for Dr.
Heller to finish his conversation with another student, Lucas’s eyes lifted and
found me. His smile was as unreadable as always, scarcely there at all. But his
gaze was focused, pegging me like a dart to a board.
    Turning his
attention to our professor, he broke the stare. I released the breath I’d not
realized I was holding and escaped the classroom, undecided on whether or not
to follow through with stopping by Starbucks that afternoon.
    I considered the
quiz I’d just aced, thanks to Landon’s insistence that I complete the worksheet
he sent two nights ago. Doing that worksheet had been all sorts of help—on a quiz
he must have known about. I didn’t think he’d crossed a line and told me
something he shouldn’t have, but his toe was definitely on the