Page 31 of Baby Girl
Carefully, I force my eyes open and roll my head to look at Will, with his soft, gentle smile and his pretty blue eyes. The way he is watching me with so much concern and care should be like a balm to my soul, but honestly, there is nothing there for me.
Maybe it’s the headache. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, but this guy, this super-nice, age-appropriate guy is not striking any chords within me.
Like, at all.
Just a look from one of my daddies has my insides zinging to life.
But I’m done with that whole situation, I remind myself. I need to move on. I need to give this thing with Will space and time to grow into that zing.
So, I do my best to smile back at him and force myself to sit upright before reaching for my glasses that are still propped on my face.
His warm hand closes over mine. “No, leave them on.”
I would nod, but my head might explode if I do, so I start packing everything up. Except, Will is right there, shutting my laptop and taking my bag out of my hands to fill it with my things.
Before I can even react, he stands, taking the bag in one hand and holding out his other to me.
The struggle has become seriously real on my end. All I want is to lie down in a cold, dark room, and if Will is going to get me there, then I’m taking all the help I can get.
I slip my hand into his as I stand, and he helps me to maintain my balance as we go down the stairs, his arm coming around my waist as the last two steps seem to increase in size.
Just as we get to the doors, it occurs to me that the room is very quiet for the end of class, and I cast a look over his shoulder and find the room completely empty. Did he wait for everyone else to leave before helping me?
Will holds the door open for us, and I shuffle through, squinting to stop as much of the light as possible from hammering at my brain. Except, there is someone standing out here in the hallway.
I don’t even need to look up at the face; the polished leather shoes tell me everything I need to know. Derek. Irritation worms its way up my spine, and as much as I really want to let itconsume me, I’m struggling to think past the dense fog that has already taken up residence in my head.
“Professor King.” Will acknowledges Derek’s presence, warily. I’m fairly confident that Will has put two and two together on why Derek can’t teach our class anymore, so him suddenly waiting outside the classroom door is definitely not a great look.
Not that Derek seems to give two fucks about that.
“William. I’ll take it from here,” Derek states, holding out a hand to Will in a silent request for my things.
Will’s fingers tighten around my own. “It’s okay, I’ve got her.”
Derek’s weight shifts, and his tone takes on a polite lightness, but we all know that he is being far from polite. “Won’t you be late for practice? I’m sure Coach Druitt has some sort of rule about being late.”
The way Will stiffens informs me that Derek has hit his mark. “I’ll explain to him that I was helping my…a friend. He’ll understand.”
“Are you sure about that? Willing to bet the few minutes of ice time you get on the weekend? As a freshman, I’d have thought you would be doing everything to increase your time, not detract from it. The two shifts you played during the last game were spectacular. I’m sure that if you keep showing up like you have been, you’ll be shuffled up the lines.”
I know they are saying words, but the meaning of them isn’t sinking in. On top of that, the pain in my head has increased enough that I can’t handle a single second more of this pissing contest. “Will, go to practice. Please.”
Maybe I can call Oakley? I can’t remember where she is supposed to be right now, but I could find a quiet room to rest in while I wait for her. Then she can deal with Derek, because I just don’t have the energy right now.
Will steps between me and Derek, concern stretching over his features, like he is actually willing to get into it with Derek if I askhim to. “Are you sure? I can message my captain, Dushane, and let him know what’s happening. He knows that I helped you get home from the hospital.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, it’s okay.” It isn’t, but that isn’t his fault. He doesn’t need to be dragged into the drama with my exes. “Go to practice. I’ll message you later to let you know I’m feeling better.”
Forcing my eyes to meet his requires more head movement than I am happy with, but I do it. Even with the sunglasses on, the light stabs into my eyeballs.
Will’s eyes rove over my face before he seems to accept my words. “If I don’t hear from you by tomorrow morning, know that I’ll be showing up at your dorm to check on you.”
I try to force a smile. “Understood.”
And then he shocks the crap out of me by dropping a kiss on my forehead before turning to leave.
I’m not positive, but I’m sure I hear a growl.
