I hold her to me and kiss her back. “Missed you, too, sweet girl. Did you behave yourself in class?”
She gives me a coy wink. “May have gotten a bit cheeky. Why?”
“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, of course,” I tell her, as we walk hand in hand toward the next building. “But it’s my pleasure to make sure you behave yourself.”
I love the way she flushes pink.
“Tell me about your class.” I love to hear her talk. I love when she waxes eloquent on the books that she’s read or the discussion she got into. I love the way she’s passionate and driven, and that a girl like her cares for a guy like me.
“Professor’s a bit of a dick,” she says with a frown. My lips twitch.
“Is he? Do I need to pay him a visit?”
“Oh, hell no,” she says seriously. “Lachlan, you can’t rough up my professors.”
I bloody well can if I have to, but I grant her this one concession with a noncommittal shrug.
“Just all demanding. Called me out for not knowing the answer on a chapter we hadn’t been assigned yet, said anyone who took this seriously would’ve read ahead.”
“You’re right. He’s a dick. Offer still stands.”
She smiles shyly, but the next second she’s nearly knocked right out of my hands by a huge, burly guy in shorts and a tank top. Fiona stumbles, and a frisbee clatters to the pavement in front of her.
“Watch where you’re bloody going!” I kneel next to her to see if she’s okay. Her hand’s at her head and she’s wincing, but she looks otherwise unharmed. The boy that knocked her over apologizes profusely, his eyes on me widened in surprise and fear as if he’s worried I’ll kill him. I bloody well might.
“Oh hell, I’m so sorry!” he says. “I didn’t even see you there. God, I’m sorry!”
“It’s alright,” Fiona says, rubbing her head while giving me a warning look. She knows I’m ready to beat the crap out of this bloke. She puts a placating hand on my arm. “I’m fine. But God, yeah, watch where you’re going, will you?”
“I’m so sorry. Can I take you to the nurse?” he asks. The boy looks barely old enough to be out of high school, but I still want to hurt him for hurting my girl. Age is no excuse. I was inducted into the Clan by his age.
“I’ll take care of her.” I’m in his space, and he finally gets the point. He nods, turns, and runs.
“Jesus, Lachlan,” she says in a harsh whisper, her eyes flashing at me. “Put your fucking gun away.”
Christ, I didn’t even realize I’d reached for my gun. I haven’t taken it all the way out, but my fingers are on the grip.
“I don’t think they saw it,” Fiona says, still whispering, while she looks around to see that no one noticed.
“Don’t bloody care if they did.”
“You should!” She gets to her feet and glares at me.
“Don’t you lecture me on what I should and shouldn’t do.”
She fumes and clamps her lips shut. “I will not argue with you here.”
“Fine, then. We’ll argue back at the hotel.”
“We bloody well will not,” she retorts.
I quirk a brow at her.
“I know how arguing with you there goes.”
Smart girl. She’ll end up with my belt across her arse and her knickers around her ankles. My cock stirs.
Jesus, she’s perfect for me. When we reach the cafeteria, she frowns. “Shite, I lost my phone.”
“Did you leave it back in class?”
She shakes her head. “No, I texted Megan literally while I was walking out of the building and coming to meet you. Slid it into my pocket…” she groans. “Oh, God, it must’ve fallen out when that guy knocked me over.”
I feel my body tighten. “Wasn’t an accident, then.” Maybe I shouldn’t have put my gun away.
She rolls her eyes, leans into me, and grabs hold of my shirt. “They’re not all enemies, Lachlan.”
She’s so fucking innocent. I could tell her stories that would make her toes curl about men that looked like innocents and the havoc they wrought. My own parents lie in graves because of people they trusted, I’m told. But I don’t argue with her.
“Let’s go back and see if we can find it,” she says.
But I know there won’t be any phone on the ground. The bastard took it.
I hate the knowledge that someone’s fucking playing with us. I hate suspecting anyone and everything of betrayal. There’s no rest when you’re in the Clan. Nothing but constant vigilance.
Aisling enters the cafe as we’re leaving.
“Tried to call you,” she says. “We need to talk.”
She looks to me and then raises her brows and jerks her head toward the door, like she wants to speak to Fiona alone.
Fiona looks to me. “Can we have a minute of privacy, Lachlan?”
“No. Anything she has to say to you she can say in front of me.”
Fiona purses her lips, but Aisling rolls her eyes. “And what if I want to talk to her about ordering a bra or when my period’s starting? Hmm?”
I shrug. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “What if I want to talk about the dildo I’m ordering or how I masturbated last night while watching bare-knuckled fighting on TV?”
I shrug again. “Have at it. Would be entertaining.”
Fiona sighs, but she doesn’t look too put out.
“Just a little privacy is all we need,” Aisling says.
“Privacy’s overrated, and I’m here to protect her. Maybe she shouldn’t have a friend who wants to fuck with her safety.”
Aisling glares.
I stand my ground and glare right back at her.
“Fine,” Aisling finally says. She flushes a little when we walk toward the garden. “Ok, ok, I’m giving him crap but girl, I would do anything for a man who looked at me like that. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you’d come with me to get a tattoo.”
Seriously, this is what was so top secret?
Fiona’s eyes come to mine, and my belly warms at the look she’s giving me, silently asking for permission. I shake my head. She takes a step over to me and whispers in my ear. “I’ve wanted your initials on my hip. It’s like a thing.”
I lean over and whisper back, “The only marks you’ll bear will be mine. Also a thing.”
I can see her nipples harden straight through her tiny top. She swallows hard, and her pupils dilate.
“Not this time,” she tells Aisling.
Aisling looks put out, but doesn’t argue. Good. “Are you coming back to the dorm at all?”
“No,” I respond for her.
Aisling sighs.
She turns to Fiona. “Do you do everything he tells you?”
Fiona rolls her eyes. “No.”
It’s true. She likes the occasional spanking.
Aisling finally takes her leave, and we walk back to where she fell.
“Does she always pressure you like that?”
“No, only when I’m being watched by an overly protective barbarian,” she says, but she’s grinning. “Is that right?” I tug her a little closer. “I can be a hell of a lot more protective and barbaric than this.”