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Malcolm glared at the man in denim and leather astride the sleek, black crotch rocket. “You’re not riding on that thing with him, are you?”
I suddenly felt sweat beading along my temples. I’d never had to evade and tap-dance around the truth so much. This charade was becoming exhausting. Finally, I just straight-up lied. “Yeah, Dad wants me to go straight to the dojo.”
“Whatever, Genevieve.”
Malcolm had moved away again, and for some reason, I couldn’t let him stalk off in a fog of bruised male ego.
“Hey!” I caught him by the arm. “Why don’t we go see that movie you were telling me about tonight? I could use a little R and R after that horrific midterm.”
“Really? You want to?”
“Sure I do!”
A bit too enthusiastic, even to my own ears.
“Will your bodyguard have to come?”
“No! Of course not!”Oh crap. Of course, he will.
I flashed him a smile. His brown hair slipped, covering part of one eye, making him look adorable, and I found myself excited about a night out with boyishly charming Malcolm.
“Sweet. Pick you up at six-thirty.”
He leaned down and brushed a light kiss on my cheek. That felt a little weird but sort of nice. I decided I needed to see if there could be something between us. Malcolm was perfect boyfriend material. Right?
The motorcycle across the street revved.
“Six-thirty,” I repeated, then marched across the street.
I couldn’t see Jude’s eyes behind the helmet screen, but my VS sensed a definite unsettling aura in the air. I caught the helmet he chucked at me when I was a few feet away.
Pulling it on, I then cinched my backpack tightly over both shoulders and slid into place behind Jude, locking my arms around his waist. He cast that iron-clad armor on me the moment I made contact with his body, then mumbled something under his breath. All I caught was “kid” and “head” or “dead” or something.
“What’s that?” I asked.
He snapped his head sharply to the left. “Nothing.”
Then we went from zero to sixty in a blink. I squeaked and held on tighter. I swear Jude sped even faster. He was getting some sort of sadistic pleasure out of this, I was sure.
A cool front had settled in after the rain. My hands were trembling by the time we wound our way through the Quarter. At a red light, Jude took me by the wrists and tucked my hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His right hand lingered on my wrist within the pocket, his thumb brushing back and forth over the fleshy part of my palm. My heart leapt at the sensation.
I dared not imagine this meant more than it did. Clearly, Jude felt some sort of protective responsibility for me and my well-being, though I still had no idea why. On green, his hands slipped back out to the handlebars. I pressed myself to his back, gathering what warmth I could. Okay, maybe it wasn’t just for the body heat. I couldn’t help myself.
When he pulled into his parking spot on Dauphine Street and stopped the engine, I was reluctant to move, so nice and warm against him. An odd silence drew out. Perhaps only a few seconds, but it felt long and stuffed with too many thoughts that would remain unsaid. Finally, I lifted off his body since I was glued to him and then off the bike.
Without a glance in my direction, he marched ahead into the alcove. After making our way through the wrought-iron gate and into the courtyard area, he stopped and pointed to the left.
“I’m sorry. What?”
He wouldn’t speak to me, and I had no idea why. He seemed pissed off. What was it with everybody today? I followed his line of direction to see Goth Barbie sitting Indian style on a small patch of grass near the water fountain I’d heard so often.
“Am I supposed to…?”
Before I could finish my question, Jude was already gone. He sifted out in an electric snap.
“Rude much?”
I walked toward her. Her hair was the same as the other night, braided in a long golden rope down her back. Her night clothes were gone; now she wore stretchy black pants and a red long-sleeved knit top. She seemed to be in deep meditation as I approached but gave me a brilliant smile when I stood only a foot from her.
