Page 46 of Silent Comrade
“Any group projects with the coeds?”
“Screw you.”
“I can gladly oblige.” A pause and achuckle. “Don’t worry, bro. I’ll keep your lady safe from assholeLequire.”
“She’s not my—”
“Sorry? Bad connection.” A tapping on thephone while Rodeo made fake static noises with his mouth. “Gottago.” Rodeo disconnected while Red ground his molars.
Not. My—
Then the bathroom door opened, and Brittflitted out in a cloud of clean water and some kind of flowerysoap. She wore nothing but a towel wrapped around her and achin-jutting you-want-to-say-something expression.
“Uh.” His mouth wouldn’t form words.
“Well?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, unable to keep fromwatching her sashay into the bedroom. He stared even after she shutthe door.
Hell, this was shaping up to be a longmission.
Chapter Twenty-One
TGIF.
Ignoring her Al-shaped shadow all dayyesterday had worn Britt out. Granted, he gave her some breathingroom. No sign of him yet this morning. Guess he didn’t think shewas at risk of bad guys attacking her at the coffee shop or thefashion lab. Or maybe he was that good at hiding.
She’d seen him at yesterday’s afternoonclass and again for today’s late-morning class. Face-to-face withAl again. Or face-to-mask, as the case may be.
The guy who sat at the desk next to herremained totally casual in hisvigilant-protector-who-is-also-a-hapless-fashion-student mode. Ifshe hadn’t witnessed his deadly skills in the department store, shewould never have guessed he had lethal abilities. She now couldpick up on the nuances of his behavior. The extra quick turn of hishead, the way he seemed to study his notes but instead monitoredeverything happening around him, gave him away. That, and thevigilant set of his shoulders until he dropped back into aslouch.
No, Al was the same, but harder. Despite hisharmless demeanor, waves of heated tension radiated from him.
Britt flinched when he flicked a sidewaysglance at her. He blinked hazel eyes, then scanned the room frombehind his new glasses. Also fake, like the rest of his getup.
Perhaps sensing a change, Jenna hadrecalibrated her approach to stalking Al. Apparently, Jenna haddecided Al was more like a stone that she could wear down with aslow trickle of water. Every flip of her hair or lick of herruby-red lips.Drip-drip. A brief touch of lacquered nailson his arm. An innocent question and a tittered laugh at theresponse.Drip-drip.Relentless tiny erosions on the stonethat was Al.
Britt had seen the immutable force that wasAl.
Little did Jenna know what a strange prizeshe would win if she succeeded.
Class ended, and Britt hurried out of theclassroom ahead of Al and Jenna.
Not fast enough.
“Oh, Britt?” Jenna’s high-pitched Southernlilt grated.
Damn it.She turned, ignoring Al, whocasually hovered in that infuriating, not-hovering, Henley-cladway. “Yes.”
“Good luck finishing your project. I mean,for a student supported by a grant, you’ve got some really …interesting … pieces in the collection. Way to go with the discountfabric, by the way. You can hardly tell.” She peeked under falseeyelashes up to Al, who smiled blandly. “This school issoinclusive, if you know what I mean? It’s so good for people like usto be around less advantaged students and give them specialscholarships.”
God, Britt wanted to punch Jenna. Also,would it kill Al to step up and say something? Protection dutiesshould extend to squashing spoiled bullies.
“The Challenge Scholarship was acompetitive. Rumor is, you applied for it, same as me.” Winning theSCAD Challenge Scholarship had made a difference in how much Britthad to take out in student loans, true. But it wasn’t a handout. Itwas earned.
“Oh, but you had a leg up because of yourfinancial need. Oh my gosh, so lucky for you!” She clapped herhands, glitter design on her nails glinting. Her congregating possegiggled and lapped up the fake praise.
Through gritted teeth, Britt changed thesubject. “Yes, I’m looking forward to the fashion show. Are youworking on your collection this weekend?” she muttered.
