Page 17 of Life Lessons

For some reason, the minute I close my eyes, all I can see is Jett, and I remember how his hands felt on my body today when he touched me. I imagine him standing behind me right now and thinking about how it would feel with his hard body pressed up against my back as my ass grinds against his cock that is straining to get free. While my mind is imagining it, I start to think I can almost feel him for real, which I know is impossible. Opening my eyes, I look down and see a set of hands on my hips, gripping me tighter than I would like. I can hear breathing next to my ear, but instead of feeling turned on like I had just a minute ago whilst imagining Jett, now I feel disgusting.

“Fuck, baby, your body is so hot when you move like that. Shake your ass again,” requests Neville, as he whispers into my ear and starts to move one hand towards my ass and the other towards my pussy. Instantly, I jump out of his touch, not wanting him anywhere near me. I’m about to curse him out for touching me like that without my permission, but all of a sudden it feels like I’m being shocked and I am frozen to the spot. I feel as though my body is heating up, in a good way this time, and I remember when this happened before, but it can’t be happening for that reason right now, can it?

I look over to where I feel like the heat is coming from and sure enough, standing next to the bar, looking as gorgeous as ever but with a very obvious angry expression on his face is Mr Caine. Jett. What is he doing here? More importantly, why is he looking at me like he wants to kill me?

That’s when I realise he isn’t looking at me. His vision is directed at where Neville’s hands were clutching my body before I removed him. I stand there, considering what to do next, but before I can, Jett starts walking towards me with a very determined, and sexy as hell, expression.

What the fuck is she doing here?!

A date, she said, a double-date. Shouldn’t that shit be in a restaurant or at the movies? I thought I’d be safe here, not seeing her grinding up against some asshole in a shirt, which probably cost more than my monthly salary. I didn’t peg Nightingale being one for labels considering what she usually wears, but holy shit, she’s not wearing anything baggy now. I just wish I could take my eyes off the hands groping her long enough to appreciate her properly.

Danny’s hand catches my arm and yanks me back, before I even realized I was moving. His eyes follow mine before turning without saying a word, but that look says it all. We’re off duty and nothing that happens off campus is our problem. Students are free to come and go as they please on weekends and the weekday curfew doesn’t apply, but I wonder if Nightingale knows that. Then I wonder why I even care in the first place. Turning my back, I lean on the bar and try to get back into Sam and Danny’s conversation.

“So, what do you say?” Sam slurs, bumping into me. Pink liquid sloshes over the side of the cocktail glass in his hand, which serves him right for picking such an abomination of a drink on our men’s night out. He removes the orange umbrella and slips it into his hair along with the other three in there. “Jett! What do you say?!”

“Yeah sure, whatever, man.” I shrug him upright, signalling the bartender for another round of shots. Not for the three of us, just for me. They’ve had too much, but I now have a reason to forget where I am and who is close by.

“Yes! I told you he would do it!” Sam boasts and holds his hand out in front of me. Danny smirks with a shrug, taking out his wallet and smacking a note into his brother’s hand. I go to ask what I’ve agreed to when the slender, inked arms braced on the bar draw my attention instead. Right behind her is the dickweasel who must be her date, shamelessly grinding up against her while she orders a bottle of water. I don’t know what pisses me off more, his lack of respect or the fact she’s taking it without blinking an eye. Is her self-worth so low or is she trying to taunt me? Wait, no, that’s ridiculous. I have no bearing on her life and she has none on mine.

My shots are served and the twins help themselves, but I no longer care, my focus squarely on her. I can feel the beat ticking in my clenched jaw, the alcohol blurring the edges of my vision, allowing me to tune out everything else except her. The dress hugging her frame is both saucy and conservative, the pencil knee-length skirt at odds with the open back. I want to move closer, to investigate the tatts I only recently found out about, but through sheer will, I remain on my spot.

Danny slaps me on the back, asking if I’m good and I nod quickly. He’s been reserved tonight, although on any given day it would take a case of red bull and a handful of ecstasy to out-energize Sam. Danny wouldn’t touch that shit though, happy to sit on his bar stool with a simple beer in hand to people watch. Not like me, who can’t sit around without my foot shaking vigorously and my irritation reaching the level of no return. I’ll need to either drink, fuck, or sleep this depth of frustration out of my system, preferably all three.

On that thought, I spin around and look for the nearest available skirt. She clocks me the second our eyes meet, her scandalously tiny dress the same shade of purple as my shirt. I can see from across the dancefloor her tits are fake, like two basketballs stuffed into the little boob tube. Not to mention the amount of filler in her lips, heavy lashes, or bimbo blonde hair. Definitely not my usual type, but downing the remaining shots and Sam’s stupid pink cocktail, I make my way over to her with a little sway in my step.

“Hey, handsome.” She winks, placing a clawed hand onto my chest. I roughly spin her around, not needing to see her face for the sake of a little distraction. Her ass grinds against my flaccid dick, who’s squirming away in my black slacks, but I close my eyes and feel the beat of the music until we are moving in time with each other. Splaying my hand on her stomach, I lose myself in a world of darkness except for the odd strobe light passing over my eyelids. Up until the song fades out for the next and then I hear it.

“Let go of me!” My eyes shoot open and my head snaps sideways, like an owl hearing the call of its prey. Except my prey is currently being harassed by a slimy fox who’s trying to drag her in the direction of the bathrooms. When she continues to struggle, he spins and shoves her against a wall in the back corner instead, hitching her leg around him and using his body to hold her in place. Over my dead fucking body.

I shove the bimbo aside, ignoring her squeals as I stomp across the nightclub and grab the fox by the back of his ridiculously expensive yet still cheap looking shirt. Throwing him into the wall, I quickly throw two punches into his gut and snarl a threat into his ear before tossing him aside. Only when he’s scurried away sobbing like a little bitch do I turn my rage on Nightingale for a) fucking up my night, b) ruining my streak of not thinking about her, and c) for getting herself is this fucking predicament in the first place.

“New rules. Week night curfew applies on weekends. Home now,” I growl. Her crystal blue eyes are wide in the occasional flashing light, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath the strip of lace that doesn’t conceal her cleavage from my height. Dammit, I swear I didn’t look. Tendrils of long hair frame either side of her natural face, only a thin layer of make-up used. She doesn’t need it. Wait, what? She seems at a loss for words, a series of emotions passing through her features but it’s her new BFF who suddenly appears and slams her hand into my shoulder.

“Since when?!” Musgrove shrieks, stumbling in her ridiculous heels. Her hair has become dishevelled, her dress hitched up in the wrong places making it clear where she was while her so-called friend was nearly dragged away against her will. Slowly, leaning so my hands meet my knees, I come eye-level with Musgrove, the fury etched onto my face not affected by the thick scent of alcohol on her breath. Fuck, is that what I smell like all the time?

“Touch me again and I’ll see you expelled by morning. I’m only following orders.” The orders I’ll need to sweet talk Thornton into actually setting. I’ll visit him tomorrow with a nice bourbon, wear a tie, and make a little presentation with cue cards. That shit makes him smitten every time. All so my Little Bird doesn’t see through my asshole teacher act and think my actions are about anything other than saving her from herself. I have to be cruel to be chivalrous, and have no other motives at all, cross my heart and hope to—

“This is bullshit!” Musgrove shouts in my face. Her hand raises again, and I’m fully prepared to let her slap me just so I can punish her for it when she’s sober, but suddenly Danny is there to grab her by the wrist. His eyes are trained on me, his stern face shrouded in shadow, but it’s Musgrove that holds my focus, her teeth bared like a wild animal.

“Go back to campus and leave Lux and the non-Willowmead student behind. Now.”

“Make me,” Musgrove snarls and spits at my feet. Everyone freezes, even her, and a slow smile creeps across my face. Oh she’s going to pay for that. Danny quickly spins her and slides his arm around her shoulder. Sam steps in to repeat the action too, the pair of them helping her stagger away whilst shielding her from me. I’m sure I look like the joker’s double right now, images of how I can make Musgrove’s life hell flashing before my eyes, but they should know I’d never hurt any female, let alone a female student. The boys though, they’re fucking ask for it.

Returning to my full height, I turn to notice Nightingale has taken a step behind me. Just because I don’t approve of rape doesn’t mean I’d protect her against any other threats. She got herself into this mess and I’m not the saviour who will always be here to help her out of them. Moving her aside, I put some distance between us and study her porcelain face.

“Are you going to fight me on this too?” I grumble. Slowly, Nightingale shakes her head and keeps her lips sealed, so I grab her hand. I narrow my eyes, the whiskey in my system beginning to catch up with me and the booming of a nearby speaker pounding a headache into my skull. I need some fresh air. Snaking through the crowd, I notice the blonde bimbo talking to one of the security guards and pointing at me, so I quicken my pace, slipping out the trashy web-covered door before I’m thrown out of it. The cool night air and the light trickle of rain washes over me and I sigh deeply, collecting my thoughts when a hand brushes mine.

“You...you saved me.” Nightingale’s big eyes are looking up at me, like an endless blue sky I could drown in, if I allow myself. Not to mention the hourglass curves of her body calling to me on a base level, her smooth legs beneath the tight knee-length skirt of her dress making my mouth water.

“No. No. No. I definitely didn’t do that. I just…hate the notion of students being happy, you should all be miserable like the other over-privileged little cu—“

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine. Whatever. Just don’t tell anyone, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” I don’t wait for her response, striding away towards the dirt track only the delivery vans use as an entrance to town. Since they all make their deliveries at dawn, it makes the perfect back road to stumble back to campus unseen after a heavy night out. It’s dark, isolated, best of all—quiet. So when I hear the trample of rocky gravel and the soft whimper behind me, it’s as loud as a gun shot beside my ears. Looking back, I see the faint outline of Nightingale against the lights of the club in the distance. She steps again, hissing through her teeth as her heels wobble on the road.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I grumble. Closing the gap between us, I crouch down to remove her heels and toss them in different directions of the tree line each side of us. Then I scoop her up and carry her into the complete darkness, keeping my strides long to get this over with as quickly as possible. Women and their stupid contraptions to look sexy. You know what a real man finds sexy? A messy bun in a baggy sports jersey with all the side boob and legs on display, and a bowl of chicken wings in each hand. If I were to even consider settling down, that’d be my go to. But why I’m even thinking about it is beyond me because life is fleeting. Only heartbreak awaits us all in the end.

The walk doesn’t take long, around twenty minutes of winding road, which I’ve memorised time and time again, but with each step I feel her seeping further into me. Not just physically, but seeping beneath my skin. Her sweet scent overpowers my will, her soft skin brushing against my ego. I shouldn’t have touched her, but now I have, the thought of reaching our destination and putting her down makes me feel cold. Like a chasm of emptiness will open up inside me, possibly one that was always there but I haven’t simply held someone this close and long enough before to realise it. Fuck, I’m super drunk, I chuckle to myself in my head.

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