Page 14 of Brat Baby (Sugar Life #1, #3)

Emery

As I take my seat in Derek’s lecture room, I’m still mentally locked in my encounter with Xavier last night.

He ate my ass. And I liked it. I really fucking liked it.

That piece of knowledge has been a gentle hum just below my skin all night and morning. Even when I finally managed to walk into the apartment, panty-less and my own cum coating my thighs, ass cheeks still slippery with Xavier’s saliva, I was still visualizing everything he had done to me.

Thankfully, Oakley was already in her room while I did my best imitation of a zombie packing away the containers of food into the fridge. My shower was also extra long.

After waking up ridiculously early and being unable to go back to sleep, I made the decision to hit the dining hall for breakfast and go to class early. But not before taking a photo of my ass and sending it to Xavier. I absolutely did not need a public inspection.

My head was so up in the clouds all through breakfast that it wasn’t until I double-checked where I was supposed to be going that it dawned on me I would be seeing Derek today.

Which was a good thing, because that realization only left me internally panicking for twenty minutes, rather than all morning.

Now, I’m the first person in his room. It’s odd. The room, that is. Sound does not echo, at all. And come to think of it, Derek’s voice was incredibly loud during the first class. Maybe he used a mic?

My chest squeezes when the door opens, but only students enter. Nerves race up and down my arms, so I give both hands a shake, trying to dispel the currents of electricity zapping up and down my forearms.

I can do this. I can sit through another class of being ignored. Besides, I’ll be able to hide behind my laptop today. Because, like a good girl, I’ve brought it with me. That thought propels me into action, and I reach down for my bag and quickly take out the laptop.

Does a piece of me want him to see that I followed the instructions from the note? Yes. Am I also hoping he’ll acknowledge that I’ve been good for him? Also, yes. But… what if he wasn’t the one who bought the computer? What if it was Hudson?

Even worse, what if Derek really does ignore me?

Today we should be moving into actual content, so there’ll be questions.

He’ll have to call on people, won’t he? I’ll just have to make sure I have the answers.

And if I don’t, I’ll study extra hard over the weekend and be super prepared for Monday’s class.

After logging on to my laptop and opening the app I added all of Monday’s notes to, I scan the room and am a little surprised that it’s almost full. My butt is planted in the exact same seat from Monday, so all the predictable gaps remain.

My heart trips over itself when the doors open and suddenly Derek is there, followed by his TA. They are having a conversation as Derek points to a paper in his hand, and Justin nods before replying to him.

Greedily, I take Derek in. Today he is in all charcoal, except for his tie, which is a deep purple satin. It suits him, making his features sharper somehow, the dark tones creating a shadow that follows him around.

He only has his laptop with him today and walks straight up to the podium after clapping Justin on the shoulder, seemingly finishing their conversation. The room goes silent with only a few coughs here and there as we wait for Professor King to start.

Just like last time, the presentation loads up and the lights dim in the room.

Derek looks up at the students, gaze bouncing from one to another as he opens the lecture with a “Good morning,” and then an explanation of the topics we are going to cover today, which basically sounds like the first semester of my junior year.

Eventually, when it feels like I’m the last student he makes eye contact with, our eyes lock. His gaze dips down to my laptop and then pops back up to mine, his words never once faltering.

Honestly, I stopped listening the moment those dark brown eyes landed on mine. He could have been telling us the answers to the final exam for all I cared, because he was finally looking at me.

Unlike last time, I maintain my awareness. The room doesn’t dip in and out. Instead, I hold my breath, waiting to see if he will give me more. Anything. A nod. A pursing of his lips. Anything at all.

However, just like last time, he doesn’t indicate that he knows me. At all.

Okay, well, I guess we haven’t quite left Ignore Emery Station, then.

For the next two hours, I take overly diligent notes, although I’m easily remembering everything he goes over. It’s more like reviewing than teaching, and I’m so fucking glad it comes back to me easily, because I’d be horrified if he called on me and I’d forgotten any of the concepts.

Which is exactly what is happening to the dude sitting behind me.

He stutters out an answer that is not going well for him.

The secondhand embarrassment taking over my system is almost unbearable, and I need it to fucking stop right now.

So, I quickly enlarge my font and shift my laptop to the side so he can read my screen.

After the guy gets my answer out, I glance at Derek, who’s glaring at me. I fight the urge to shrink in my seat as I drag my laptop back in front of me. The glare lasts long enough that the students around me shift in their seats.

The TA coughs and Derek jolts in place before glancing back at his laptop on the podium in front of him. He takes a deep breath before continuing with the last ten minutes of his lecture.

“And we are done for today.” Derek checks his watch. “It looks as though we have a few minutes remaining. If anyone has questions, you are welcome to come down, and either myself or Justin will be able to provide you with the answers.”

There is a surge of movement as students start packing up around me, but I just take a minute to myself. Can I go ask questions? If I go down there and line up to talk to him, will he answer or will he pass me off to Justin?

My thoughts are interrupted by a tap on my shoulder.

I turn in my seat to find the no-answers guy offering me a smile. The first thing I notice about him isn’t his perfectly straight smile or his floppy blond hair that looks like something out of a sweet rom-com movie. Nope. It’s the black and aqua jacket he’s wearing. He’s a jock.

“Hey, thanks for before,” he says, offering his hand. “I’m Will.”

I take his hand. “Emery.”

He holds on to my hand a bit too long, and I raise an eyebrow at him. He grins, not even a little bit repentant. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting my savior to be so beautiful.”

I laugh, caught off guard by his flirting, and pull my hand from his grasp. “Do cheesy-ass lines like that usually work?”

He relaxes back into his chair, in that charming guy kind of way where they lean back on one arm and kind of slump in their chair. “You tell me, that’s the first time I’ve tried that one.”

I have to purse my lips together to contain my smile as I shake my head. “Nope, not even a little bit.”

But if I’m honest with myself, Will’s line may have worked on me—if I wasn’t wrapped up in four older men. Which reminds me… I turn back to the front of the room to look for Derek, but he’s gone.

“So, Emery, what are you doing for lunch?”