Coercion (3 page)

Michael also happened to notice when the young woman sitting in front of Breeze crossed her legs beneath her short denim skirt, one of her clogs dangling from her toes. She looked vaguely familiar, but he was positive he would’ve remembered meeting her. Her hair was straight and dark, and her legs were the longest he’d ever seen. She twirled a pencil between her fingers and rested her chin in her other palm, tapping her nails absently against her lush, full mouth while watching Dr. Cantarella pass out the syllabus.

Michael heard Breeze clear her throat and turned to find her glowering at him. “See something you like?” Her voice dripped saccharine.

Before Michael could respond, the girl turned around, and her body gave a surprised start as her green eyes widened. A blush spread across her face and she quickly faced front again, the clog slipping off her foot completely to reveal pale pink toenails.

“Excuse me, gentleman in the back.” Dr. Cantarella gestured toward Michael, his hairy hand flitting like a butterfly. “I realize only surgery could probably remove those sunglasses from your face, but try your hand at it anyway. I want to be able to see your eyes sparkling with excitement over the Industrial Revolution.”

The whole room held its breath as the other students stared at Michael, who reluctantly removed his sunglasses. However, the aviators slipped from his fingers and skittered across the floor, landing next to the long-legged brunette’s shoe. He swallowed hard and stood slowly, his hips bumping into the desk. He could smell the girl’s perfume—something reminding him of oranges and sunshine—as he bent to retrieve the sunglasses, and he made sure to get a close look at her creamy legs before he stood. She didn’t look at him, but her face was bright red as she stared at the cover of her thick notebook. He took his seat, again bumping his hip off the desk.

“Jesus Christ,” he heard Breeze mutter.

“I didn’t realize, sir, that your sunglasses held the key to your grace,” Dr. Cantarella quipped as the other students tittered with laughter. “Obviously, you pose a safety hazard.”

“What can I say?” Michael flashed a grin. “I’m a dangerous guy to know.”

When the class came to a close, Breeze shut her history book and cast a look at Michael while shaking her head. “Well, that was charming.”

“What?”

“The little show you put on for us. You should’ve taken out accident insurance with the way you were falling all over yourself to get that girl’s attention.”

Michael looked to the brunette to see if she’d heard Breeze, but she was already halfway out the door, her notebook pressed tight against her chest. He turned back to Breeze and huffed an impatient sigh. “Breeze, don’t be like this.”

Breeze raised her hands. “Whatever, baby.” She slid out of her chair and sauntered out the door, not waiting for Michael to catch up.

* * * *

“Wait.” Shannon latched onto Valerie’s upper arm as she met her friend outside Verget Hall. “Do my eyes deceive me or is Michael Vartanian checking out your ass?”

“Shh.” A slow burn crept into Valerie’s face as she tugged Shannon away from the congregation of students gathered outside the building. “Do you want the whole world to hear?”

“Oh my God.” Shannon put a palm to her forehead, her eyes wild and wide as she looked behind them. “I have so many questions about this. What is he even doing here?”

“It’s a college campus, what do you think he was doing? Going to class.”

“He barely went to class when we were in high school, so excuse me if I’m a little mystified.” Shannon studied Valerie’s face. “And he certainly was scoping you out.”

Valerie’s heart tripped over its beat. “He wasn’t. You’re being silly.”

“No, you’re being naïve. Even if he’s a total loser who’s been wasting away at the Gas ’n Go, I still wish I was making Michael Vartanian’s jaw drop. He’s undeniably fuckable. Don’t you think?”

“Shannon Rink!”

“Don’t ‘Shannon Rink’ me, just answer the question. Isn’t he fuckable?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the way Browning would’ve put it.”

“Well, to me, Michael’s body is poetry. If this was a perfect world, and I wasn’t in love with Rick, and if Michael were interested in me, and if Michael wasn’t still dating that slut Kim Breza... Let’s just say a grand ol’ time would be had by all.”

Valerie tossed her friend a dubious look. “Those are a lot of ifs.”

“So what? Anything can happen in this crazy world.” Shannon winked. “So let’s have it. Who would you rather lose your virginity to—Michael Vartanian or Daniel Travato?”

“Shannon!” Valerie gave her friend a whack in the arm with her notebook. “I’m not talking about this with you right in the middle of the quad. Anyone can hear us.”

“Fine, we’ll talk about it at lunch then. Oh, wait, we can’t, since Daniel tricked you into hanging out with him under the guise of chatting about your summers.” Shannon’s lower lip jutted out before she broke into smile again. “I got class in Myle. I’ll see you at One Down tonight, okay?”

Valerie gave her friend a nod before walking the rest of the way to her sociology class, her body buzzing with self-consciousness. She couldn’t help feeling like everyone was staring at her. After all, long gone was the chubby, chipmunk-cheeked girl with the mousy hair. The diet and exercise program her aunt Linda—a nutritionist—had put together for her had certainly worked a miracle.

“Just you wait. You’re on the brink of changing your whole life,” Aunt Linda had promised her in early spring.

That was what her aunt always said when dispensing her advice, which ranged from what courses Valerie should take to getting a certain kind of haircut or dress in order to be more stylish. Although Valerie had to admit her life hadn’t exactly been changed by any of her aunt’s previous suggestions, she realized that following the woman’s most recent regime was obviously a smart decision. After all, in all the years she had known him, Michael Vartanian had never looked at her the way he had that morning.

She knew it was likely he was just shallow. He probably didn’t really remember her at all, but she couldn’t help feeling giddy. She’d been drawing gazes from boys during the last leg of her summer vacation, but Michael was different. Although she’d never admit it to Shannon, she had noticed Michael Vartanian a long time ago when he first stepped foot into their eighth grade classroom with his tidy, Ken-doll haircut and dark eyes gleaming with both mischievousness and an inexplicable sadness.

Since then, his impish albeit clean-cut ways had melted away into something much more smoldering and almost downright forbidden. Nowadays, his mop of dark hair fell just above the collar of a faded t-shirt advertising a favorite band, and a pair of well-worn jeans hung off his hips. His eyes always hid behind those aviator sunglasses, but thankfully nothing could mask those lips: a full mouth that always looked used, like he’d been kissing someone all day. Maybe he had.

Valerie was aware of how warm her body had suddenly become, and her face flushed at knowing her rise in temperature was, in a way, Michael’s doing. She knew it was wasteful to spend her time thinking about him in such a way. There were plenty of reasons why a girl like her should never fall for someone like him. Besides, Michael had never bothered to even look her.

Until today.

Still, Valerie refused to entertain thoughts he might ever be interested in her, especially since she didn’t know what she’d do if she had him. She knew of Kim Breza—better known as Breeze—and couldn’t think of two people more different than her and the popular, talkative blonde, whose sexual appetite was no secret. She had heard Breeze broadcast her erotic escapades in the women’s bathroom, the hallway and just about everywhere else. Thus, Valerie knew Michael and his girlfriend had done practically everything under the sun during their on-again, off-again yet somehow enduring relationship.

That knowledge both excited and terrified her. The closest she’d come to sex was reading the dog-eared bodice-ripping novels on library shelves, the informative but perplexing
Cosmopolitan
articles and the secondhand play-by-plays Shannon gave her after her own encounters with her boyfriend, Rick. Virginity, which was something her peers had outgrown long ago, was not something she wanted to give to just anyone. Therefore, she could never keep up with Michael.

But a little part of her wanted to try. A little part of her wanted to have the courage to find out how those lips of his tasted. A little part of her wanted to slide her hands down his broad back and into the back pockets of his jeans.

A little part of her wanted to do a whole lot to Michael Vartanian.

* * * *

“What am I doing here?” Michael grumbled, primarily to himself, as he looked around at the throng of people gathered on campus for the One Down bonfire, a tradition at Kenton College marking the end of the fall semester’s first day. A gust of night air blew through his hair, and he breathed in the smoky scent of the fire and grilled hotdogs.

Breeze laced her fingers with his and tugged him through the crowd. “This is where Lisa said she’d be.” She squinted as she stood on her tiptoes to peer over all the bobbing heads. “She’s dating the treasurer of the Student Activities Council. It’s practically required for her to be here. But good news for us—she said if we show up and keep her company, she’ll treat us to a car ride.” She entwined her arm with his and gave his bicep a meaningful squeeze. “During which certain illicit activities may occur.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? How good’s her herb?”

“Better than ours, seeing as we have none.” Breeze skimmed the faces again then her grip on his arm tightened. “I see her! She saved us a place on top of the hill. Come on.”

“You go. I don’t feel like dealing with this mob now. I’m waiting until everyone sits their asses down.”

“Baby, it’s a bonfire, not the opera. People don’t sit down.” She unlinked her arm from his and gave his ass a squeeze as she nodded to the hill with a wink. “See you on top.” She merged into the writhing crowd and disappeared.

Alone, Michael heaved a sigh as he glanced around, rubbing the back of his warm neck. He debated getting a soda, or just getting in his truck and driving home by himself—Breeze would find a ride. Still, the idea of cruising the back roads of Kenton with smoke in his lungs sounded like the perfect way to end the first day of school, even if that meant putting up with Breeze and her roommate, Lisa. The two of them always became giggly and shrill when they smoked together.

His gaze drifted to the bonfire, where several people waited while the musicians in the local band tuned their instruments on the makeshift stage before a row of bleachers. He noticed the brunette from his history class, her endless legs disappearing beneath the same short skirt and looking warm and inviting in the fire’s glow. She stood with another girl, both deep in conversation, and delicately tucked a strand of her long dark hair behind her ear. His gaze traveled over her soft, feminine features, illuminated in the firelight.

A few rowdy, slightly drunk students pushed past him, jostling him out of his reverie. Annoyed by the company surrounding him, Michael turned his attention away from the girl as he shoved his way through the bodies and blankets scattered on the hillside to where Breeze sat with Lisa Melane.

“There’s my little storm cloud!” Breeze said in a syrupy voice when Michael sank down on the grass next to her. “Looking cheerful as always.”

“Hi, Mike.” Lisa wrapped her thin lips around the straw held fast in the lid to her soda cup and took a sip. “Why do you look like somebody just kicked over your sandcastle?”

“Yeah, what’s the matter, baby?” Breeze picked up a French fry from the paper container on Lisa’s lap and traced Michael’s lips with it. “Here, maybe a little snack will fix that sour mood of yours.”

Michael wordlessly snatched the fry out of Breeze’s hand and threw it, causing the girls to laugh. He ignored them, extending his legs and leaning back on his hands. He stared at the bonfire as the band finished its sound check and the lead guitarist squawked a quick countdown into the microphone, the shouted numbers followed by the school’s anthem set to rock music. The music incited the already enthusiastic audience, and Michael watched as the brunette looked around at the eruption of energy, laughing and clapping in time to the beat hammered out by the drummer.

“Isn’t this cute?” Breeze clamped her hand around his chin and turned his face toward her. “Michael’s checking out the chicks right in front of me.”

“Shame, shame.” Lisa’s smirk revealed just how much she was really enjoying the unfolding drama. “He still hasn’t learned his lesson?”

Michael gritted his teeth. “If you’re bringing up the incident from two years ago for the millionth time, you can just shut the fuck up, thanks.”

“That, and others.” Breeze sniffed. “Although, maybe she was referring to the one that happened on my birthday.”

“You forget you’d dumped me earlier that day.”

Lisa narrowed her eyes at the crowd, her forehead wrinkling. “I wonder who he’s got his eye on now.”

“The fat brunette from high school,” Breeze replied without pause, popping a French fry in her mouth, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“Who?” Lisa asked. “Which one is she?”

“Valerie Mercer,” Breeze said. “Only to be fair, she’s not fat anymore. She lost all this weight during the summer and now everyone wants to bone her, including my boyfriend.”

Michael shook his head. “Whatever.”

Breeze leaned toward Michael and dropped her voice. “Admit it. You want her, don’t you?” She turned to Lisa. “You should’ve seen him this morning in US History. He acted like a complete ass, trying to get her attention and everything.”

“Will you stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Why should I? I was sitting right there in class, and you didn’t give a damn about that.” Breeze shot him a haughty look. “You don’t have to sound so pissy, baby. I just thought Lisa should know how you made a fool out of yourself over some chick today.”

Lisa dragged a French fry through a blob of ketchup. “Doesn’t he do that with you every day, Breezy?”