Good for Me Read online

  Good for me

  by

  Aeryn Jaden

  AMAZON EDITION

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  PUBLISHED BY:

  Aeryn Jaden on Amazon Kindle

  Good for me

  Book 1 For Me Series

  Copyright © 2014 by Aeryn Jaden

  Cover by Amara Lukas (http://amaralukas.deviantart.com/)

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  For all those who believed that one day I'll finally get off my ass and publish something. You know who you are.

  Good for me

  Chapter One

  Things like this did not happen to people like me.

  The fact that he was well past six feet tall, had the bluest eyes I ever saw on another living being and inky-black hair with just the right hint of curls didn’t help him look innocent in my book.

  The fact that his friends beside him were smirking with knowing and smug looks didn’t help one bit my poor self-esteem and the damned blush I started to feel rising to my cheeks.

  As I said, things like this are impossible for people like me, no matter what plan of creation or parallel universe they are living in. No way, no how.

  Unless he was shoving his displeasure towards me with his heated gaze. Was he in one of my classes? It was improbable that I had forgotten about ever seeing him before. He was hardly the forgettable type. More like watch-your-back-when-around type. He had an intensity about him that screamed danger and his movements had an almost feline grace. His slightly scruffy look was accentuated by his five o’clock shadow and his red-rimmed sleepy eyes.

  Maybe it was a blank stare.

  I tried to make myself smaller if it was possible and invisible, which I usually was for the likes of him and I sincerely preferred it that way. Wow, miracle. It must be my lucky day.

  Or not. His eyes were like glued to me, no matter which way I turned or tried to slip from view. And they sparkled with what was strangely more similar to amusement with each evasive move I made.

  Well, to be honest they’re not so many hiding spots when you’re standing at the college’s cafeteria queue, with your stomach grumbling for an old and dry sandwich. Or pizza. God, let there be pizza.

  Maybe he was just trying to see through me at the sparse selection of yesterday’s sandwiches.

  Or not. Since ‘till now he could have drilled a hole in my skull with his look alone.

  Was is then surprising that I did exactly what I do when the smallest hint of attention is directed toward me - namely trip upon air (and land face first on the really hard floor of the college’s cafeteria, during what could be called the rush hour, ‘thus confirming my total lack of grace or vertical staying power)?

  I was quite surprised (and grateful since I was afraid to visit the campus infirmary for reasons I will not disclose voluntarily to any sentient being) that I missed the counter.

  I guess mortified summed it all pretty well. I could think of an entire dictionary page with adjectives to qualify this situation I found myself in. Again. And most of them where not appropriate for polite or underage company.

  So… I was sprawled on the not so comfy floor waiting for Armageddon to come and wipe me of. Maybe I should start digging a bunker and isolate the rest of the world from my innate stupidity.

  “Are you all right?”

  I froze mid-rant and brought my hand protective-like over my eyes. I knew but I didn’t want to. That voice shouldn’t be his. It was unfair for the rest of the universe.

  Shock waves were still coursing through my body from his deep too- close voice and I started theorizing upon length waves and that maybe his voice had some kind of resonating frequency.

  Out-loud. Ugh.

  The smirking I could hear made mortified an insufficient term to sum up my current predicament.

  “Quiet.”

  His gruff calm order made all the noise stop abruptly.

  “Sorry, Conner it’s just that…”

  “Did I ask?”

  He pulled gently my hand from my eyes and met my deer in headlights stare. I surely couldn’t pull my eyes from his.

  “Timothy.”

  The guy that was rambling before stood straighter in what was almost a “stand-by for orders” position.

  Who the hell was this guy? Not even the coach could order them like this, and Parker had been a cop.

  “Pick the stuff.”

  I looked confused at Timothy and saw him scurrying around the floor picking up notebooks, crayons and God knows what I had in my backpack. Huh. My IPod. Ten bucks. A banana. Yuck. Make that former banana.

  I returned my gaze to Him.

  “Your nose is red.”

  “The floor is kinda hard.”

  His lips tightened as if restraining the smile I could see in his eyes.

  “Not made for sleeping on it I take?” he teased.

  I blushed. More that before. I could practically feel the heat radiating off my skin and I hurried to my feet, trying to mask my reaction. I looked sheepishly up to him. Up. A little more up. And upper still. This guy was freaking huge. With muscles that were protesting at the restraining shirt.

  “Anything hurt?”

  “My non-existent reputation.”

  “Now teach, I think your reputation will only benefit from today’s stunt.”

  I threw a dark, resigned glare toward Timothy, which I now remembered was in my economics group, each Monday at ten.

  That was the group that witnessed the me+chair falling on my back stunt, two weeks ago.

  I did work hard for my reputation… The street pole interrupted my inner ramblings.

  “Timothy. Are you done?”

  The guy flushed at the giant’s admonishment and handed me the pack like a well trained puppy.

  “Sorry, teach.”

  “It’s all right. It’s not as if it’s not true.”

  It had been this way from the beginning. I just didn’t inspire respect in the twenty year old students I taught. The fact that I was just a couple of years older and a natural born klutz didn’t help any.

  Blue-eyes frowned in displeasure and I got even more confused. What was it with this guy?

  Standing next to him made me feel strange. I had to look way up to meet his eyes and I shivered in reaction to the feelings he evoked. Usually I couldn’t stand when people were towering over me.

  I was finding that nothing was usual when it came to the blue-eyed grizzly here.

  And I may have stated that opinion out-loud earning another bout of muffled snickers and his glinting shocked stare.

  “Grizzly?”

  I guess I should mention that my brain-to-mouth connection had short-circuited when I was like two years old and what my brain thought my mouth spilled. It had made an interesting childhood.

  “Is this the moment when you lay me flat again?”

  “Again?”

  It had been partly his fault since he had been drilling holes in my skull.

  His amused snort notified me that I running my mouth again and I as a preventive measure I clapped a hand on it, not realizing the image I was providing. His shoulders started to shake under his barely restrained laugh and I had the urge to stomp my feet. No, wait. I was already doing that, providing him another source of amusement.

  I honestly knew how to not behave like a overgrown brat. I removed my hand and sighed. So what if I was strange and anything that passed through my brain materialized in my real-life actions?

  “Exactly. So what?! You know, you’re kinda cute.”

  I suspect my eyes boggled out like the eyes of his entourage did.

  He only laughed harder and his friends restrained from any comment, visibly perplexed.

  Timothy, apparently the group’s spokesman approached warily.

 
“You alright man?”

  “He’s not the one that nose-dived in the floor.” I quipped.

  The kid just stared at the grizzly with a wary expression.

  “Right. But he’s… laughing.”

  What the hell was strange about that? Even I had to acknowledge I was an easy to laugh at person. The strange thing was the bit about me being cute.

  Of course my faulty brain-to-mouth connection acted again. My statement cut his apparently un-characteristic laugh short and he frowned his displeasure at me.

  What now?

  His group seemed to kinda cringe back under my curious look and he assessed my reaction to his obviously feared dark look. I stared right back. His lips curled slightly and his group breathed relived. It was my turn to cringed since that look seemed a bit too predatory to me.

  Time to make a hasty retreat.

  “Right. Thanks for…”

  For what? I lifted my eyes to the ceiling like I do when I’m thinking and searching ideas, but gave up promptly.

  “Just thanks. Right. See you around.”

  I span on my heels and locked on the door.

  “Wait.”

  His arm jutted out and stopped me as efficiently as his quiet order. Seemed I wasn’t unaffected by his seemingly authority.

  “Your name.”

  A man of few words.

  His eyes sparkled at me and I cursed once again my mouth. I might need to sew it closed after today.

  I started to unglue his fingers one at a time from my arm in a simulated deep concentration. I felt him tremble though it and rolled my eyes at him and his laughter.

  “My name is Tyler Lucas. Not that I should answer you mister unknown-person-who-is-holding-my-arm-hostage.”

  “Bain. Bain Conner.

  “As in Bond, James Bond?”

  He huffed, stifling another chuckle.

  “No, as in just Bain, Tyler Lucas.”

  “That is just Tyler, just Bain.”

  That chuckle escaped his control. My battle with his fingers was a lost cause.

  “Ok. I accept. What do you want for my arm?”

  “You shouldn’t accept without knowing what you’re getting into.”

  “Well, I kinda need my arm.”

  -What if I demand something impossible or that you won’t give?

  “Then I guess I’ll just have to get my arm back the hard way.”

  And I was so full of shit.

  He measured my modest five foot six and raised his eyebrow at me. I raised mine back at him and held his gaze steadily. After a couple of seconds something I despaired at ever seeing in someone’s eyes rose aside his amusement. Respect.

  His hold gentled even more and his thumb started massaging my skin, searing it with his heat.

  “You were getting lunch.”

  “How astute of you to notice.”

  “Yes it is.”

  He replied with a too serious face. He was mocking me. Behind his back his friends were making signs for me to cut it out and probably to not angry the beast. Fuck that. I didn’t give a damn if I made angered the grizzly or not.

  My response was as usual out-loud. He glanced back, stopping all activities and turned to me again shoving me his amusement in another smile.

  “Have lunch with me.”

  I tilted my head sidewise in confusion.

  “Lunch?”

  “Yes. The activity of eating at what is now 12:20 PM.”

  “Cute.”

  “Thank you.”

  I frowned without a response to that line.

  “Lunch.”

  “Yes. Lunch.”

  He tilted his head in a position similar to mine. He was serious about this. He didn’t want to beat me, make fun or something like that?

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Huh.”

  I studied his straight gaze for another moment searching for something then nodded.

  “Okay. Lunch it is. You’re buying.”

  “I am?”

  “Sure you are.“

  His turn to nod.

  “Yes, I am.”

  His friends were now watching us like we were having a ping-pong verbal match. When he turned and headed towards the register their shocked faces turned to me in awe. Apparently I had accomplished some miraculous feat.

  Bain had reached the register much faster that I would have (mostly because people were trying their hardest to get out of his way) and then turned and hollered in my direction.

  “Pizza or ham sandwich?”

  “Pizza, please.”

  He smiled at me, producing another strange reaction in my stomach. I was hungry, that’s all.

  The guy in front of him turned to protest.

  “Hey, man. there’s only one slice left…”

  Bain stared at him and I could see the poor guy quake in his shoes.

  The guy actually stumbled two steps back.

  “Sorry, Conner, didn’t knew it was you. Late night you know. Here, take my place.”

  I frowned in absolute confusion. What the hell? He hadn’t shown his muscles or threatened the guy yet he got that reaction to a simple look. Everybody seemed to fear him. Why? He wasn’t that mean looking. I perused his body from his Nikes, passing long muscular legs encased in dark jeans before resting on his well developed chest for a better study of the well stretched white t-shirt that I could glimpse under his open blue shirt. I was just studying his clothes, nothing more. But for the attention I gave them he could have been naked and I wouldn’t have noticed when that would superimpose on my fantasy image of his body flexing in movement. I forced myself to raise my eyes to his dark stumble on the chiseled cheeks.

  Ok. Maybe he was a bit mean looking at his six feet five, towering the entire room. I had been intimidated for a total of five seconds. And he did tend to frown a lot. Like he did now, biting his lower lip in concentration or deep though about something. But the curve of his lips suggested amusement and the fine lines I knew were there, bracketing the tanned skin in corner of his eyes, spoke about a man used to laugh. He had been genuinely concerned when I had stumbled on my feet. And his grip on my arm had been studiously firm but not too firm. Maybe even gentle, protective in a strange way. I knew the difference between firm and gripping. He obviously had a sense of humor if my stupid rant amused him instead of offend. And now he was buying me lunch. Further, he was obtaining the most desired last slice of pizza for me.

  I wanted to be tall. I wanted to be mean looking.

  He returned toward the table me and his three strangely quiet friends were occupying. The blond dude of the group, I seemed to remember him from the history group as Jerry-Jeff something, scurried from his place next to me under Bain’s intent gaze.

  “Here you go.”

  I smiled delighted at him.

  “I want to be mean looking like you.”

  He froze in the middle of sitting. His friends turned horrified looks on me.

  “What? Do you know how hard it is to get a slice of pizza during lunch hour?”

  Bain huffed another low laugh and finished sitting, surprising me when he half turned toward me.

  “What?”

  “You really do say everything that goes through your mind, do you?”

  “Yep. It’s my mortal sin.”

  I took a bite and moaned in delight.

  “I think I love you. You brought me pizza.”

  His eyes took a peculiar look and he blinked at me.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I nodded regally and he snorted in amusement. His friends were open mouthed, sandwiches long forgotten. I was too amused by their reactions to feel self-conscious. Now that I knew I wasn’t going to get it for my big mouth and sarcastic comments it was liberating to just let go. For a second there it had been ... I kept forgetting I wasn’t helpless and I had the right to say what was on my mind regardless of how inappropriate it was. His intimidating stature sure hadn’t helped. But I was also used to making snap-judgments abou
t people and I was rarely wrong in my opinions. This guy was a bear, full of gruff and attitude. But a teddy-bear nonetheless.

  Timothy seemed to be the first to recover.

  “You sure you’re okay, man?”

  “Positive.”

  “Oookay.”

  He never moved his eyes from my face.

  “So what do you teach?”

  “Informatics, programming, all that’s related to computers.”

  His eyes turned mischievous.

  “You’re a techno- geek.”

  “Actually I’m a computer freak, but techno geek works occasionally”

  His laugh boomed in the cafeteria startling a passing student into spilling her drink.

  I shook my head in utter confusion.

  “Why do people fear you?”

  It was his turn to regard me open- mouthed. The entourage had stopped breathing.

  “You don’t find me scary?”

  “No, I don’t. I find you scruffy. You should get reacquainted with the sharp end of a razor.”

  He ignored my sarcasm, preoccupied by something.

  “My name doesn’t ring a bell?”

  “Should it?”

  He squinted at me, undecided.

  “Two months ago, the hostage situation in the art studio?”

  “The moron with the big gun and small brain?”

  He raised his eyebrows at me again. I was probably pushing it but I was too relaxed to control my mouth. Besides, I had the strange notion that this guy wouldn’t hurt a fly. Dangerous conviction about someone I’ve just met.

  “Aaa… I would say that would be me…

  “Guns are prohibited on campus.

  “Guards have permission to carry.”

  “You’re not a guard.”

  “I was then.”

  “Ok. You are now prohibited to carry.”

  He hesitated then turned fully towards me in a move that could have been considered intimidating. That is if I was your average guy with a normal sense of preservation. I was finding out I wasn’t since he looked to me more and more like a teddy-bear. A giant one, but still.

  “Why moron?”

  “That’s the rumor’s description.”

  He seemed chagrined by this and his expression tightened and I took pity on the guy.