Chapter 9

Paul:

I don’t know what draws my attention away from my conversation with Embry, some deep and unconscious awareness of something across the room. I look up and lock eyes with Abby as she tries to escape the room through the door to the rear hallway. When our gazes connect, she’s like a prey on the verge of capture, wide-eyed and edgy, poised to run at the slightest shift in the winds.

Against my better judgement, my gaze slides over her, taking in the full picture. Her long slender legs stretch out from impossibly short shorts, which she’s paired with combat boots and a cozy sweater. The look is comfort and sass and pure ass-kicking sexy. When my attention returns to her face, she’s less deer-in-the-headlights and more force-to-be-reckoned-with. Her brows are drawn in anger, her lips pursed in determination.

She’s still upset about what happened the other night. And with good reason. I didn’t handle things right at all. My first mistake had been going upstairs with her. Everything after that could be traced back to that one fatal misstep. If I hadn’t gone up there, I wouldn’t have given in to my attraction to her, wouldn’t have ended up in that bedroom, with her wrapped in my arms. And we wouldn’t have run into Logan just as we were coming back downstairs. I was still reeling from the way she came apart in my hands when Logan called her my girlfriend. I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh when I corrected him. She is my ex-girlfriend. But she’s also more than that. The girl I’d just gotten hot and heavy with, sure. But beyond that, she’d been the love of my life, and that was not something I was about to admit to anyone, especially Logan. The guy didn’t believe in love.

I owed Abby an apology, a big one. I briefly considered dropping to my knees and shuffling all the way across the space to her like that, begging her to forgive me. But I’m not that dramatic in real life. Instead, I put one foot in front of the other. Barely three steps in, my chance to apologize began to slip away. Abby’s eyes widened, and with every step forward I took, she took an answering step backward toward the door. Until her back was pressed against it.

I hoped she would stay there, penned in by the closed door, but no such luck. She reached behind her, pushed the metal bar, and backed into the hallway beyond. All without ever taking her eyes off mine.

“Abby, wait,” I call, taking longer strides to get to her before she escapes entirely.

Instead of halting her, my words spur her into action, and she whips around the door and out into the hall. I break into a soft jog to eat up the distance between me and the swiftly closing door, making it there just before the mechanism clicks shut. Abby is halfway down the hall already, and I job after her, catching up as she reaches the door leading outside.

I almost reach for her arm to stop her, but something about the way her shoulders stiffen tells me I’d probably get slugged if I touched her right now. “Abby, please, can we talk?”

We step out into the crisp evening air. “Sorry, I’m not that kind of ex-girlfriend.” She practically sneers the last word. Yep, she’s definitely still mad about the other night.

Time to fall on my sword. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

She stops walking at this and turns to face me. “Which part.”

I can tell by her expectant expression that she’s waiting for me to say something very specific, but I don’t know what answer exactly she is looking for. So, I scramble, and throw her something far reaching in hopes that it will satisfy. “All of it.”

She shrinks back like I’ve just smoked her but recovers quickly. Then she spins on her heel and begins a purposeful speed walk away from me.

“Please, Abby, wait. Talk to me.” I’m not sure why I keep trying. I should just give up now, go back into the student center and spend the rest of my shift having a nice, drama-free conversation with Embry.

Abby doesn’t bother answering me this time.

“Where are you going?” I ask, rushing to keep pace with her.

“To do my job. Why don’t you go back to chatting up your friend and leave me alone? I’ve got rounds to do, right?” Her tone is so full of venom, I feel the sting of each one as it hits my ears.

“I wasn’t chatting up Embry.” I know the second the words are out of my mouth that that was exactly the wrong thing to say right now.

Abby makes a sound that is something between a choking and a scoff. “Just leave me alone, Paul.”

“I can’t.”

Abby’s curls bounce behind her as she heads up the ramp into the parking garage. “And why not?”

I don’t have a good answer. I should leave her alone, but I need to make this right, need to apologize. I can’t help feeling like if I walk away from her right now, it will be the last opportunity I ever have to make things right. So, I grasp at the first reasonable excuse that comes to mind. “Because you’re still training, and it’s my job to train you.”

Abby answers me with a dry, bitter laugh. “Walk around and look for hazards. I think I can handle moving my legs and using my eyes.”

I stand my ground. “I’m making the rounds with you.”

“Suit yourself.” She heads to the elevator and presses the button to call the carriage to the ground floor. Then she crosses her arms over her chest and waits.

I wait with her. When the elevator arrives, she is quick to rush inside and press the button for the next floor. Before the doors can close, I step inside and lean against the back wall.

“Are you gonna take the stairs?” She looks at me for the first time since she booked it outside Student Services.

I shake my head. “I think I’ll take the elevator today.” The doors begin to slide shut.

She sighs loudly and steps forward to push the button to reopen the doors, but the carriage lurches into motion before she gets to it. She sighs again and leans against the wall next to the button panel.

And now that I have a captive audience, I can finally say what I need to say. I reach out and hit the stop button, then move between Abby and the panel before she can set us into motion again.

“What the hell, Paul. Move!” Her voice is pitched high in anger.

“Please, just hear me out.”

Abby steps up close to me until we’re practically nose to nose and points a finger into my chest. “Holding a girl hostage in an elevator is not the way to get her to talk to you. It’s creepy and threatening. Now, Move. Out. Of. My. Way.”

As soon as she says it, I know it’s true, and I deflate. I step out of the way and hang my head. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to intimidate you.”

Abby sighs and reaches for the controls. “I know,” she says softly as she hits the button to get us moving again.

Nothing happens.

She pushes it again, and still nothing. When a third try yields the same lack of results, she turns to me with accusation suffusing her expression. “You broke it!”

For some reason, I can’t wrap my brain around the truth. Instead, I step forward and try the same damn thing she just did. Pressing the button doesn’t work for me either, not once, not twice. Not five damn times. “Fuck.” I switch to pressing the door open button, then each of the numbers. They don’t even light up when I press them.

“What the hell are you doing?” Abby challenges.

“Trying to get us moving,” I answer as I press more buttons.

“Right, because pressing every single button definitely isn’t the way to get us stuck in here forever.”

I sigh and step away from the control panel. “We’re stuck.”

Abby looks at me like I’m the biggest idiot she’s ever met. “No shit.”