Kissed (29 page)

The balding man’s attention shifted to Professor Carmichael beside me, and I caught the subtle nod of Carmichael’s head in my periphery.

My fingers twisted harder in my lap. “All of my professors agreed to work with me.” My brow flinched as I watched them. This was, hands-down, one of the most painful experiences of my life, which might sound odd but it was. Every time I opened my mouth to say something, I instantly regretted it because I couldn’t seem to stop second-guessing every word I uttered. Nothing I was saying felt like the right thing, and the eyes staring back at me, while kind and calm, were unyielding and hard to read. “I…” But that sentence failed to go anywhere, and I looked down at my lap again as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and imagined Keegan sitting beside me instead of Carmichael for a moment.

I wanted Keegan here. If he were here, he’d be snapping back. He’d be fighting the battle with me. I’d seen him do it just days before with his own parents—his parents. He had an incredible kind of strength that was calm and calculated and yet felt physically imposing and intimidating. God, I needed that strength right now.

When the handsome man pulled a newspaper from his own manila folder, he set it down on the table between us. It was folded to show an article somewhere on one of the interior pages. I suppose I should be glad it wasn’t the first page at any rate.

The same picture of David and me was featured on the page, and next to it was another picture of me. It was the very one that hung in the stairwell of my sorority. I hadn’t seen this article, and I sucked in a shocked breath as my eyes scanned the headline.

PROSTITUTION: INFILTRATING OUR COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES?

“Are you the woman featured in the picture next to David Edgerton?” the man asked me. His voice was gentle, but he was leaning forward with his finger on the article. I glanced at him quickly, but I looked back down at the page. I inhaled deeply when I forced my eyes to return to his. I didn’t like the feel of his attention, and his focus was too invasive, even though his eyes never strayed inappropriately to my chest. I could see it as if it was written on his face.

Lust. Hidden, but there nonetheless.

I had no idea what it was he was imagining behind those intense eyes of his, but I knew it was playing out in vivid detail in his mind as he looked at me. Was he undressing me? Was he touching me? Was I on my knees, sucking his cock? Or was he fucking me already? Was it gentle when he imagined it? Was it rough? Maybe it was violent even. I couldn’t possibly know, but it was there in his mind, and I hated him for it.

I wondered sometimes if this inappropriate lust lurked in the back of all men’s minds, hidden perfectly behind professionalism, manners, hell, a good suit. Of course it didn’t. It couldn’t, right? My brain just had a tendency of telling me I was right about these things because
my
brain was a broken, twisted thing.

I leaned back in my chair as though those few extra inches were enough to save me from him, and I glanced at the wedding ring on the hand still touching the newspaper. The man’s jaw clenched tightly when he saw my focus shift from the paper up to the ring, and I caught Carmichael glancing at me in my periphery.

“Are you the woman in the picture with David Edgerton?” Mr. Penis repeated the question, his voice colder and his eyes searing hotly into me.

My answers were gone.

I stared at him. “I…” I looked down at the picture again. Was I supposed to lie? “I…” Tears welled up in my eyes, and my lips trembled as I looked desperately around. The freakishly exuberant smile on Barbara’s face was finally faltering, and her expression looked concerned. “It’s just…”
Fucking concentrate, G-dog.
I shook my head, and then I looked back at Mr. Penis, locking my eyes on his as his cool, calm gaze continued to fuck my brain mercilessly.

And then I nodded, brushing a tear from my cheek before it could fall. When I opened my mouth to breathe, the air shuddered as it passed my lips.

“Yes, but—”

“Thank you,” Mr. Penis said, sitting back in his chair and not letting me finish whatever pathetic excuse I might have been able to come up with.

“Why were you photographed with Chairman Edgerton?” the blonde woman asked me.

I was too busy staring at the penis with my mouth open to respond at first. When I finally looked at the blonde, I took a deep breath. “I’m not going to discuss how I know the chairman.” My tone was biting, and when I brushed another tear from my cheek, it was angrily this time. I was off my game, not that I’d actually been on it to begin with, but I was lost at this point.

The redhead’s brows shot up for a moment, and her lips pursed in what looked like disappointment. “I think we’ve heard all we need to—”

I cut the redhead off. “No, please.” I stared at the five individuals across from me, avoiding the handsome man’s gaze. “You don’t know me. I’m not a bad person.” I was rambling, emphatically trying to convince them I wasn’t a monster. “I’m just a college kid.” My lips started trembling again as my eyes searched theirs for understanding. I shook my head, letting out a frustrated huff of breath. “Please don’t take this away from me.” I was leaning forward, my hands clasped in my lap. “
Please…
”

Carmichael’s hand touched my forearm gently, and I took a deep breath, sitting back in my chair.

“We appreciate your comments, Gabrielle, but we’re required to consider the welfare of—”

“The welfare?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Carmichael’s hand clamped down harder on my arm.

I shook my head. “I’ve not hurt anyone. I’m not… What threat do you think I pose?” I just kept shaking my head. “I’m not the frat guy who hazed a kid nearly to death with a bottle of Everclear last year. I’m not a thief, I’m not violent, I’m…just…” I looked around again, desperately grasping for a way to fix this. “I’m just the girl who wants to take care of her sister. I’m the girl who’s desperate for a better life.” A tear ran down my cheek, but I was too busy clutching my stomach as I spoke to care. “I’m just…” I covered my mouth for a moment, closing my eyes and lowering my head as I composed myself. I exhaled slowly when I looked back up, and I tried to smile even through my glossy, blurry vision. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. My lips pulled up again. “It’s just…this is all I have left. Please don’t take this away from me.” It was a struggle to swallow.

Barbara brushed a tear from her cheek and smiled at me kindly. Red watched me with pursed lips through blue spectacles, but her nose twitched, and she sniffed back some small ounce of empathy. Blondie watched me impassively, and Baldy studied me sadly, his head cocked to the side. I didn’t bother looking at the handsome cock because I knew he was still fucking my brains out in his mind.

Carmichael’s touch on my arm eased.

“Professor Carmichael, do you have anything you’d like to add?” Barbara asked.

“I do. Yes.” He took a folded-up piece of paper from the inside breast pocket of his jacket, unfolding it. He looked up, smiling. “I asked Gabe if I could sit as her advisor today of my own choosing. I’ve known her since she was a freshman in my intro to psych course. She was, as you said, a remarkable student.” He nodded, glancing down at the table. “And I was thrilled when I found out she’d chosen psychology as her major.” He looked over at me, and his lips pulled up in a sad smile. “But things changed for Gabe when her mom passed away. And you’re right; as an institution we reached out to her.” He nodded again as he looked at the five members of the panel. “But grief is a tricky thing, and it doesn’t always manifest in the way we expect it to.”

“Are you saying the choices that led her here today are simply a symptom of…?” Baldy bobbled his head as he searched for the word.

“I’m not speaking about the incident in question at all because I don’t think it’s our business to discuss it.” He reached forward, picking up Mr. Penis’s newspaper. “This is media tripe. This is sensationalism at its finest, and
this
”—he poked at the image of David and me—“is conjecture at most, damaging, irresponsible, and frankly, it doesn’t belong in here. We should be outraged that one of our students is being used as media fodder in a political smear campaign.” He studied the group for many more long seconds, focusing on Mr. Penis for just a hair too long. “You speak about the concerns of our students, but let’s face it, the concern comes from the parents. Does it not?” He waited for an answer, though I suspected he didn’t really expect one.

Blondie’s lips pursed, and a subtle nod of Baldy’s shiny head as he looked down at the table was as much confirmation as he got.

“So you have parents voicing their concern. I get it!” he exclaimed. “I do. They care.” He shrugged. “We should expect nothing less. I guess I’m just wondering who there is to care for Gabe.” His smile was almost smug as he watched the panel. “She deserves better from us. We are an institution of learning, of betterment, of advancement. It’s not our job to condemn her for unfounded accusations. It just isn’t.”

I was staring at the table, glancing up occasionally as Carmichael spoke. He’d not once referenced the piece of paper in his hand, which seemed odd…until he finally looked down at it.

“You know, I was going to spend my time convincing you of the caliber of person Gabe is, making sure you fully understood just how deserving she is of our time and consideration. But someone else summed it up far better than me, and from a far more personal perspective than I can. So I’m going to share a few words from someone else.”

My focus snapped to him, my eyes wide as I stared. Carmichael smoothed the folds out of the paper as he studied the words for a moment, and he glanced up quickly moments before he started to speak. “The tragedy with Gabe will never be the mistakes she makes because those things will never define her. The tragedy will be watching the world deny her a second chance because there are none more deserving than her.”

I tried to swallow as I watched Carmichael read, but my throat was constricting.

“If you want to truly see Gabe, you need look no further than her one remaining relative. You can’t imagine what it is to watch her love her little sister. There is no purer thing in the world; it is devoid of any expectation. It is
that
pure.” Carmichael glanced at me, smiling warmly before he looked back at the paper in his hand. “Gabe’s patience will astound you, her strength to endure is enviable, and her passion to keep moving forward in the midst of loss and heartache is the very thing we should all strive for. The fact she is all of these things, despite also being utterly alone, amazes me. Her strength and endurance
amaze
me every day.”

I knew whose words these were. They belonged to a man I’d rejected because I was too afraid of what would happen if I held on to him.

Carmichael looked at the group again for a moment and then looked back down and continued reading. “I’ve come to understand something very important about Gabe, something I didn’t see at first, something that was so easy to miss. She craves safety and security. She needs someone to tell her it’s all going to be okay at the end of the day. I find it odd, not to mention completely and utterly hypocritical, that the university is so concerned with the safety and security of their student body—which is in no way impacted by this situation—and yet, they’re woefully willing to overlook the needs of Gabe, who needs and deserves their support like no other.”

I brushed a tear from my cheek, wondering if I was ever going to get them under control.

“I can’t be with her right now, but you are. I can’t support her when I want to most, but you can. I can’t make sure she sees and knows her value in the midst of all of this, but you have that opportunity. I’m begging you to see her worth because I’m not sure she’ll see it if we don’t show her first. If I could give her all of those things, I would. I’m asking you to give them to her for me.”

Carmichael folded the paper, handing it to me. I wanted to open it. I wanted to read Keegan’s words again and again until this room and these people went away, but I clutched it in my hands instead.

“Can you tell us who wrote that?” Mr. Penis asked Carmichael.

He shook his head. “No. It’s really not relevant or important to anyone but Gabe. What I can tell you is that these words weren’t meant for you. They were meant for me, to make sure I understood the importance of my presence here today. I do understand, though I
get it
far more after reading this than I did before. I want to make sure you
get it
too. This is her life, this is her future, this is…
everything
to her.” He shrugged. “I see it as our responsibility to protect her future. That’s all I have to say.”

Barbara raised her hands above the table, clasping them together quickly, and for half a second, I thought she was stifling the urge to clap.

God, please make it be over.

“Thank you for coming in today, Gabrielle.” Barbara was beaming again. “I will call you with our decision before the end of the week.”

I nodded, standing as Carmichael did the same, and I didn’t look back when he led me out of the conference room, down the long hallway and finally out into the cool fall air. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting my head fall back. I could feel the sun warming my face, even as a cool breeze rustled the leaves along the ground. I didn’t want to open my eyes again. I just wanted to savor the relief for a while.

It was over.

When I finally opened my eyes, I exhaled deeply as I lowered my head. Carmichael was chuckling, and he smiled at me. “You survived. You can breathe now.”

I started to laugh quietly, but then my laugh dropped off into thin air as my heart fluttered. I gasped as I caught sight of Keegan’s car over Carmichael’s shoulder, sitting at the curb. Keegan was standing there, leaning casually against the passenger door, his arms crossed as he waited. He was watching me, his face expressionless. My face was not. I couldn’t seem to keep my mouth closed, and I could feel the strain of my facial muscles as they scrunched and contorted. I was so tired of crying, but I’ll be damned if my throat didn’t instantly constrict and ache as the wave of emotion passed through me.