Page 42 of Brat Baby
Not this time. They wanted to play stupid games with me? Well, now, they are going to win stupid prizes.
I wait for my phone to buzz, but it doesn’t. Disappointment doesn’t hit. Instead, a tidal wave of satisfaction flows straight over me. I’m willing to bet every gift and reward they’ve given me and all the future ones I am yet to receive that he just warned them that I’ve thrown down the gauntlet.
I settle back in my chair and don’t bother to smother how smug I’m feeling.
I think I am really going to enjoy playing this game with them.
Chapter 24
Emery
My cheeks ache with the smile that has been plastered on my face since I left Derek’s class almost three hours ago with my brat flag waving in full wind. I’m surprised the glare he pinned me with didn’t spontaneously develop that laser vision thing Superman has and incinerate me on the spot.
The memory is going to live rent free in my head for the rest of my life.
I walked down the staircase and made direct eye contact with him as I pulled my hair out from under the straps of my backpack, then gave him a peace sign as I reached the bottom and turned to follow the flow of the rest of the students exiting the room. I have never, ever, in my life thrown a peace at someone, but it felt perfect in the moment.
His hand twitching by his side, clearly fighting the urge to reach out to me—or spank me—was the cherry on top.
I knew he wouldn’t break and call me out in front of everyone. Derek isn’t the type of man to cave to anyone. Especially if he thinks they have done him wrong. But I haven’t. I know I haven’t. Up until this point, I have been nothing but his perfect baby girl.
Too bad they had to go and ruin my streak.
But my absolutely favorite moment was when Derek allowed the room some time to work through a few exercises on our own. Will, who had conveniently retaken the seat behind mine, took the opportunity to tap on my shoulder. I had, obviously, turned around and given him my attention, full wattage smile and all.
The irritated stare that was waiting for me when I turned back around was pure magic. When the class resumed, I took every opportunity to ask questions, calling them out loud enough that it would be impossible for Derek—excuse me, Professor King—to ignore. There were even moments when I think I surprised him with my knowledge of the material, bringing up alternate methods and asking for further explanations.
If the man doesn’t already suffer from migraines, I’m sure he has one now. His jaw was clenched so tightly that the throbbing vein in his forehead never quite went away during the entire class.
The assumption I made that he’d warned the others, when it was clear that I was not the recipient of his text message, turned out to be correct. Hudson took one look at me as I entered his class, his icy gaze raking me from head to toe, before he turned back to his laptop. His lack of reaction told me he’d been prepared for my outfit.
If I hadn’t glanced back over my shoulder as I walked up to my seat and saw the way he ran his hand through his perfectly styled hair, I would have been left with the impression that I’d had little effect on him. Even now, almost two hours later, he barely looks at anyone on this side of the room.
It’s taking everything I have not to swing my legs beneath me with how giddy I am at his attempts to keep his reactions in check. The reactions from both men, really.
I fucking love it.
I’m not taking the same tactic of polite interruption with Hudson, however. My plan has been to play it meek and mild. I haven’t asked a single question in the last two hours, simply taken notes and been a perfect student. Drawing zero attention in my direction.
Nothing to see here.
I glance at the time—ten minutes to go. Last week, he dismissed class early to allow anyone with questions to come talk to him. I’m going to use that time to slip away.
As quietly as possible, I start putting a few things away, prepping for my easy getaway—straight out the door that is only a few steps down from me.
“That’s it for this week. Please make sure you do the required reading. It is listed on the course work page, as well as some additional reading for anyone who is finding the content riveting,” Hudson calls out, a hint of humor in his voice.
There are a few laughs from the students, which turns to chatter and the rustling of things being put away. Immediately, Ishut my laptop and start sliding it into my backpack, but before I can get the zipper shut, Hudson’s voice cuts through the noise again.
“Could I please see the following students? Benjamin Trenton. Alana Cruz. Jesús Garcia. Emery Nicholas. Gabriella Perez. Thank you.”
Hearing my name in his voice sends a surge of achy warmness from my stomach and up into my chest, but that is quickly ruined by the tiny wave of panic that he is actually about to talk to me. Apparently, the ignore-Emmy game is over.
Okay, fine, I can handle this. No, not just handle. I can do this. If he wants to talk to me, then it’s going to be on my terms. No backing me into a corner or making me feel small.
Nope.
I yank on the zipper of my bag a little more forcibly than necessary, and then I wait for the room to empty, occasionally moving my legs to the side as people scoot past me. From my spot, I watch as the other requested students rush down to the front of the room and play teacher’s pet, but fuck that. I’m not going to stand around, waiting for my turn to speak to him.
