Free Bad Judgment by Meghan March

announcement to the class.
    Biding my time, I wait until she’s trying to pass behind me, and I stand so she runs directly into my chest. Thrown off-balance, she wobbles, and I wrap both hands around her hips to steady her.
    “I got you.”
    Her eyes narrow and her mouth curls into a scowl. “You did that on purpose.”
    “Deliberately got in your way so I could get my hands on you again? Damn right, I did.”
    I see a flash of confusion and then the anger takes precedence again.
    But we both know it’s the truth. Getting my hands on her is exactly what I want. Her shirt rides up on the sides, and I sweep my fingers along her bare skin. Fuck, she’s soft. Which guarantees my dick isn’t.
    “Let me go.”
    Instead of a demand, Justine’s words sound breathless. I have to remind myself I’m standing in a classroom with a professor up front and students filing in and out. This isn’t the time or place for a hard-on.
    “I’ve got some things I need to say to you, and you’re going to let me.”
    Her brown eyes snap up to mine, surprise clear in them. “Why should I?”
    “Because you’re nothing if not curious, and you want to know what I have to say.”
    She steps backward, and I let my fingertips trail across her skin before they drop away. Justine adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and tucks Chewbacca into a side pocket.
    “You know you want to hear the rare sound of me apologizing, don’t you?”
    Justine purses her lips, and all I can think about is the dreams I had all weekend of her staring down at me from a stage while she danced and stripped. My own private show. I’m not going to admit how many times I jacked off to the mental picture. I need the real thing, and I won’t have another shot if she won’t even give me a chance to talk to her.
    I don’t know what changes her mind, but she relaxes her posture and relents. “Fine. You’ve got five minutes. This better be good.”
    It’s not much, but I’ll take it. I lead the way out of the classroom, slipping out the side door I used to make my unobtrusive entrance. Or at least, it was unobtrusive until I decided to share my strike-out history with the entire class at Professor Turner’s invitation.
    Glancing behind me, I’m marginally surprised to see Justine actually following. I head for the third-floor doors to the library, where the private rooms are. This conversation isn’t for public consumption.
    The first private room on the right is empty, so I push the door open. Justine trails me inside, and I shrug off my backpack and drop it on one of the four chairs.
    She closes the door behind her and leans against it, her arms crossed over her chest. I’m guessing she wouldn’t stand that way if she realized how it draws attention to her chest. I force my eyes back to her face. I’m not about to fuck this up.
    “Wow, you must really plan on groveling if you need privacy,” she says, an eyebrow raised in challenge.
    “Maybe I just wanted to get you alone.”
    She rolls her eyes. “And I’m already getting bored.”
    “You love to bust my balls, don’t you?”
    “I don’t really like to think about your balls, if you want to know the truth.”
    I try on my charming smile, the one that has dropped panties for years. “I’m calling bullshit on that. You’ve thought about me at least once.”
    She pushes off the door and turns halfway to reach for the handle. “And if that’s all you wanted to say, then I think we’re done here.”
    “Wait.”
    I’m shocked when she listens.
    Justine rubs her hands over her face, her every move revealing her frustration. “You ask me out for two years, practically blackmail me into a kiss, then you blow me off completely, and now you’re all up in my business again. What the hell do you want from me?”
    Her confusion punches me in the gut, making me wish I could tell her why I wasn’t there the morning I promised to help her move. It wasn’t for any reason she thinks.
    I