Page 55 of Motivating Mira
“Dude, if rolling your eyes made a sound, you’d be hearing it right now. He’s totally in love with you.”
“No, he’s not. He’s just a flirt. And he’s a sub. We are not compatible.”
“Okay, babe. Whatever you say, but he’s actually a Switch. And now I gotta go. My break’s over. See you in class?”
“Yeah, of course. And again, I’m so sorry I screwed up, Clee. I love you and even though I can never repay you, I’ll start trying by buying you lunch today.”
“Bestie, I love you most, but I also love Mac and Cheese so…” She giggled as she signed off, leaving me with a smile that lasted until Wes’s name showed up on my caller ID.
I ignored it and I got ready for school. The next time he called I was just heading out the door. I debated ignoring it again, but decided it was best if I got it over with.
“Hello.”
“Hey, honey, just calling to check on you.”
“I’m fine, Wes. There’s no need to check on me. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“Right. But it’s always part of the deal when I scene with someone, especially when the play was so intense.” There was seriousness in his tone that made shivers dance up my spine. I grit my teeth at the reaction my body had to him.
“Okay, yes, you’re right. That’s Dom 101. But I’m telling you I’m fine, except that I slept through my alarm, missed my shift, and I’m going to be late for class if I don’t hang up now.”
“Okay. Can you text me when you’re at the hospital later then? I just want to see you’re okay with my own eyes.”
I rolled mine. “Feeling guilty for torturing me with that awful rubber paddle, Wes?”
“Never,” he said, and I could hear his smile in it.
“Fine. I’ll text you later.” And I hung up before he could say anything else cute.
A few hours later, I was in Professor Holland’s class, and he was shaking me awake.
“Miss Wilcox!”
My eyes flew open, and I blinked. How the hell had I fallen asleep?
“Oh, I’m—” I looked around at the empty classroom and swallowed hard. “So sorry, Professor.”
His brow furrowed. “If I’m not mistaken, your next class is about to start.”
“Yes, Sir.”
His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized my face, focusing just below my eyes where I knew I had dark bruise-like bags. “You’re not sleeping well?”
I shook my head.
“Is falling asleep in class something we need to deal with, or was it a one-time fluke?”
“It’ll never happen again, Sir.”
“Okay then. I’ll let it go.”
I grabbed my bag and books, rising on shaky legs. Sleeping in, missing my shift, and now falling asleep in class—a trifecta of irresponsibility.
Not giving Professor Holland any time to change his mind, I headed for the door.
“And Mira. If it does happen again…” he called in a sing-song tone as I passed through the door.
I looked back and saw his serious expression.
