Mending Annabelle (Sequel to I Love You, Jerk Face)

Chapter 3

Annabelle tried in vain to say goodnight to him at the front door of her dorm, but he would not have it and insisted that he accompany her to the room.

          “I want to be able to assure my parents that you were tucked in safely,” he winked down at her even as her own eyes rolled and she huffed.

          “You’re impossible,” the words were continually muttered as they stood side by side in the elevator despite his chuckling, they became louder as she tried once again to ditch him.

          “Annabelle,” he cooed, “I’m walking you all the way to your door,” he smiled down at her. “And if you don’t quit your complaining I may just insist on tucking you in myself,” she balked as he once again winked.

          Rude is just not something she ever was. Even with her social hang ups, fear of crowds, and the way she skirted around the opposite sex she had never been called rude, but this man brought out the worst in her. He had continuously tried to engage in conversation during their walk, but she stayed utterly silent, only offering one worded answers when he persisted. By the time they reached her dorm room the only things he had learned about her were that she was from Louisiana, could speak fluent French and did when angry, was a psych major with a minor in art, and that her parents were both alive and well back home. For a twenty minute walk it wasn’t much, but it had been all she was willing to give up.

          Every time she had given a clipped answer to his prying question his deep chuckle sounded in the empty streets, she didn’t like being laughed at, but like even less to be out at this hour. Through his triad of questions and meaningless chatter her hand stayed clenched around her phone, knowing that any minute now it would ring and more than anything she dreaded that Ryder would still be at her side when she answered. If she wasn’t alone it meant trouble and trouble was not something she wanted this early in the semester.

          “Look we’re here,” her hands hurriedly unlocked the door so that he could leave. “Made it safely back home,” she stepped in, intent to keep him from following.

          “If I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to get rid of me,” his slow grin told her that he knew that was exactly what she was trying to do and apparently failing at it.

          “Ryder! Go away,” she sighed, but for some reason a smile bloomed on her taut lips as he continued to grin down at her.

          “You know usually,” he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning heavily on her door jamb, “girls are singing a different tune when I’m at their door.”

          “I’m not other girls,” she rolled her eyes, but once again could not fight the full blown smile that he had somehow brought forth.

          “Oh believe me,” his head dipped toward her just a fraction of an inch, “I’ve noticed.”

          “Are you going to leave now?” she found herself relaxing against the opened door, waiting for him to say his goodnight.

          “Do you want me to leave?” she nodded, still smiling up at him. “Very well then,” he pushed away from the door frame and she marveled at the way his muscles bunched under his shirt, the way the fabric pulled with his movement as his arms uncrossed.

Male virility plain and simple, he was the prime example. Even as he stood in front of her now he looked like one of the Greek gods she had been assigned to sketch last semester and though there was light cotton covering him she knew that without the clothing he would out shine all of them.  “I can take a hint,” her eyes left the mesmerizing show that his body gave, going back to his startling green eyes as he looked knowingly down at her. “Goodnight Annabelle,” he grinned smugly, her cheeks reddened at being caught staring, but it really wasn’t her fault.