At least, technically speaking, there was no sex in the far corner of the fourth floor of Hearst�s central library. Mac doubted any of the sex scenes written by Greek poets ranked high on the list of hot, bodice-ripping porn, but even those were an entire floor away. Rows and rows of books about computer programming and chemistry and string theory surrounded the table and chair she�d claimed as her home away from home.
No one asked why she spent so much time at the library. They assumed it was quiet and peaceful, a place with no loud parties and louder roommates to distract from the blurry lines of code on her laptop screen. That was part of the truth, to be sure.
She came here because it was the last place on a college campus, and possibly the earth, where sex still feared to tread. There was no involuntary cringing at public displays of affection; no feeling sick to her stomach at jokes and innuendos she didn�t want to understand. There was nothing but the harmless humming of her laptop and the murmuring of engineering students trying to pass their numerical analysis class. Outside the library, where the sex was happening, that�s where the world was falling apart, where everything went so very, very wrong. But inside, where even the questionable books were mere echoes of sex, she was safe.
If anyone asked, she�d tell them that she avoided the psychology and Roman history books as well. She was an equal opportunity avoider of all things that could only end badly.
The beeping of her laptop snapped her out of her train of thought and back into the present. Her eyes were dry and she had to force them to focus on the tiny lines of code as she hunted for yet another syntax error. Going cross-eyed from the effort, she finally leaned back in the chair and rubbed her eyes. Her mind was wandering into all sorts of dark alleys anyway, so it was definitely time to take a break.
As she twisted around to stretch her neck and back, she realized that night had fallen and even the diehard engineering students had retreated to their dorms. It was college after all and there was always a party going on somewhere. But she felt safer alone than surrounded by strangers. For all she knew, any one of them could be the Hearst rapist with the hair fetish. Veronica said it was probably a souvenir, a way for the asshole to relive the experience. There were times when the way Veronica saw the world scared her just a little.
Long corridors stretched out on both sides of her, wrapping around the nearly endless rows of shelves and creating an optical illusion of infinity mapped out in sturdy carpet and eggshell-white walls. She�d always loved the internal maze of a good library, the twists and turns that she could wander until she was hopelessly lost. There was something magical about picking an aisle at random and letting her fingertips trail over the sturdy spines of the books as she drifted by. So many pages, so many words.
Everywhere else on Hearst campus, she felt as though Neptune High had simply gotten bigger and relocated. There were still cheerleaders and jocks and the angry misfits who still hated them. Nothing had changed all that much from here to there; she had a smaller bedroom and a bigger library. Veronica tried to drag her out into the social world every now and then, but she usually had more important things to worry about. That hadn�t changed either and Mac never voiced the paralyzing fear that even if she did venture out to date again, Veronica would end up discovering deep, dark secrets lurking beneath another innocent looking surface.
This was Neptune, the City of Secrets, and it was a forgone conclusion that if anyone were going to dig them up, it would be Veronica Mars; a fact that made friendly proximity to the budding private investigator problematic at best.
A new window popped open with a ding and a smiley face that looked nothing like it�s blonde sender. Mac typed a hello, muttering to herself, �Speak of the devil.�
Another smiley face blinked at her, apparently wanting to know where she was. She winced as she typed back that she was still at the library because it would inevitably start an argument about how she needed to get out and enjoy her college experience. To her surprise, no text lecture followed and Veronica continued with idle chitchat about classes and homework.
Ten minutes later, Mac was staring suspiciously at the latest message on the screen and finally managed to put her hunch into words. The tapping of the keyboard sounded loud in the silence as she asked Veronica why she was stalling. She leaned back and settled in to wait for the scrambled response. Veronica feigned innocence, asking if there was something wrong with wanting to chat, but Mac could tell that wasn�t the whole story.
�There some reason you gotta be at the furthest end of this damn building?� a familiar voice asked.
Mac managed to disguise the fact that she�d nearly jumped out of her skin by twisting to the side. With her most annoyed expression firmly in place, she gave Eli Navarro an icy smile before turning back to her computer to tell Veronica that her favorite convicted felon had arrived.
�What do you want?� she asked Weevil without looking at him.
He sat down in one of the chairs across from her, his boots hitting the tabletop with a thud. �Veronica asked me to walk you back to your dorm.�
�She is so dead,� she seethed.
�Maybe she just doesn�t want you to end up with your head shaved tomorrow morning.�
�Hello? I�m not stupid, remember? Like I�m going to accept a drink from a guy I don�t know; I�ve been to the Red Zone awareness seminar.� She scowled at her code and hit the Enter key with more force than necessary. When he didn�t respond, she relented and glanced up from her computer. He was staring at her with a bemused expression, as though he found her anger comical. �Besides, how do I know you�re not the rapist?�
�I�ve got an alibi,� he answered smoothly.
�Hope it�s a good one.�
�The best. Four walls, one of them had bars.� His voice was even and unperturbed, but with just enough finality to indicate that his jail time wasn�t a topic for open discussion.
�So how much is Veronica paying you to escort me across campus?�
He looked away, pretending to read the titles along the shelf nearest to him. At least, she assumed he was pretending; Weevil didn�t seem the type to be interested in quantum mechanics. �Called in a favor.�
�Ah. The preferred Mars currency.� The message window on her screen was blinking and the smiling little avatar was thoroughly unrepentant about sending a pseudo bodyguard. It was hard to stay mad at Veronica when she was only trying to make sure Mac made it home safely.
�Don�t s�pose you�re going to be leaving any time soon or do I have time for a nap?� Weevil asked with an irritated sigh.
�You�re welcome to leave.�
�Not without you.�
�Then you�re gonna be here awhile. Get used to it.� She glared at her programming rather than at him. Glaring at Weevil probably wasn�t the brightest idea, since he was actually pretty scary. �You could always tell Veronica that you walked me home. I�d back you up.�
That earned her a scowl. �I keep my promises.�
�Did you actually say the word promise or did you just say yes?� She could tell he wasn�t amused by her attempt to twist the semantics to her purposes. �Fine. I�ll try to hurry.�
�Take your time,� he said sarcastically. �I�m kinda getting used to the smell of books.�
�This is a new thing for you?� she snapped back just as sarcastically.
He ignored her. �Never did see the point. All those pages locked up where there ain�t no world to see. Too much outside to waste time with my nose stuck in a book.�
�That would explain needing my help with algebra. And you�re missing the point completely.�
�Really,� he drawled.
�The point of reading a book is to go some place that you can�t go in the real world. It�s a way of experiencing what you doesn�t happen in the everyday.� She started compiling her code with the latest changes and pulled her attention away from the laptop. �Books are what has been, what could be, and everything we could possible dream up that falls between. They�re more than just pages with words on them all glued together.�
�You get that at a seminar too?�
�I read everything I could get my hands on growing up. Didn�t matter what it was. Books were my escape.�
He tipped his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. �You ever get laid, chica?�
The condescension hit her like a slap to the face. She slammed her laptop closed without caring that she�d lose her unsaved work and fumbled with the power cord, yanking it out of the wall. Her eyes were stinging with tears that she didn�t want, that Weevil didn�t deserve to see, as she tried to stuff everything into her laptop case all at once.
�Whoa, whoa. Easy there.� His hands caught hers and stopped her from dropping everything on the floor.
She pulled away quickly, crossing her arms as tightly as possible and refusing to look at him. �Don�t touch me.�
�Easy.� He frowned at her, his dark eyes watching her thoughtfully. �It was a joke, that�s all.�
�It wasn�t funny.�
�I can see that. You wanna tell me why?�
�No,� she snapped. She wanted to storm off and leave him standing there, but he was holding her laptop bag with her laptop in it and that kept her trapped until he decided to let go of it. The idea of wrestling him for it was completely ridiculous. He was still watching her and the intensity of his stare made her skin burn. �I�m just not interested in sex, okay?�
�Not interested,� he repeated incredulously.
�There�s nothing wrong with that.� When he didn�t seem convinced, she fixed him with a glare of her own. �There is nothing wrong with me. I am perfectly normal.�
�This is because of that Casablancas kid, the one who offed himself, isn�t it?� he asked softly, almost gently.
�It�s really none of your business. Now if you don�t mind, I�d like to leave now and I�d like to leave alone. I�ll tell Veronica you walked me home.� She held out her hand for the laptop case. He took that as a cue to slide the strap over his shoulder and start walking down the corridor leading to the exit. If looks could kill, there would�ve been a knife or two in his back. �This is the twenty first century, you know; women can vote and everything.�
He glanced over his shoulder with a smirk. �I did pass history on my own.�
�Amazing.� Still glaring, she trudged after him.
�Shouldn�t let one asshole put you off the whole thing. Sex, I mean,� he commented idly.
�He wasn�t an asshole.� It was all much too complicated to simply label Beaver an asshole and move on. Her head hurt from trying to unravel all the complicated down into bits of simple. And while there was no point in dragging all the skeletons out of the closet, she felt compelled to at least make an attempt to defend Beaver. It felt like a knee-jerk reaction; trying to convince herself as much as anyone else that the murdering psychopath had had redeeming features.
When he stopped and turned around suddenly, the amusedly curious expression was back. �So, you got something against sex because you�re still hung up on him? Or was he just really bad in bed?�
Mac stared, unable to truly comprehend the vast inappropriateness of those questions. Saying she was still hung up on Beaver would be akin to confessing her everlasting love for Ted Bundy, but anything else would be speaking ill of the dead. She managed to work up a bit of righteous anger over his trivial summation of the relationship. It wasn�t like she�d been the Bonnie to Beaver�s Clyde; she�d been the last one to see the truth when she should have been the first. �Is this your twisted idea of a pep talk? Did Veronica put you up to this too?�
�Just think it�s a shame, is all.� He shrugged, nodding vaguely toward her as though that explained everything.
�Yeah, it�s a real shame. It keeps me up at night, you know, all that sex I�m missing.� Her fists involuntarily clenched tight at her sides, fingernails digging gouges into her palms.
�Didn�t say you were the one missing out.�
His eyes were most definitely not focused on her face and it took her a few, stupidly long seconds to realize what he was trying to say. The air in the library warmed up a few degrees and it was suddenly much quieter than it was before, which was no small feat in a nearly deserted library. All the words, and most of the air she needed to breathe, were stuck fast in her throat. His gaze finally rose and the corner of his lips turned up in a sly smile that knew she knew what he was looking at.
Clearing her throat, she forced herself to start breathing again. �You must really owe Veronica big time. What�s the going rate on seduction these days? And does that make you the whore?�
Instead of getting angry, he had the nerve to chuckle. �You�re just one of the hazards of the job, bella.� Something about the way that last word rolled off his tongue sent shivers up her spine, tingling along the back of her neck before fizzling out over her scalp.
�And you honestly expect me to believe that you find me attractive?� she demanded sharply. �Because I�ve been lied to six ways to Sunday and the last thing I need is one more reason not to trust another man again.�
�Then you ain�t exactly gonna believe me if I say yes, are you?�
She frowned at him, a little irritated because she couldn�t argue against the logic. �Well...no. Probably not.�
�What�ll it take? To prove that I ain�t lying.�
�You�re kidding. I mean, you�ve got to be kidding.� She glanced around quickly. There had to be someone with a camera waiting to jump out and tell her she was getting punked. Maybe this was Veronica�s idea of a good time. �You�re Eli Navarro and I�m...really not your type.�
�Not exactly planning to meet the folks and buy you a ring.�
�There�s been planning? Planning has been involved?� Her head was beginning to spin and all she wanted was to get back to her dorm where the world wasn�t turning upside around her. She couldn�t run without leaving behind her laptop and she doubted he was just going to hand it over if she asked nicely. �Look, Weevil. This has been surreal, but I really don�t want to debate my sex life, or lack thereof, with you. Not here, not ever.�
�Whatever you say.� He slid the strap off his shoulder slowly and motioned for her to step forward.
�Um...is there some reason you can�t just hand it over?�
Rolling his eyes, he sighed and stepped close enough to lift the strap over her head. It was closer than anyone male had been to her in months and all her air was instantly back to being stuck in her throat. The strap settled onto her shoulder, crossing over her chest with familiar weight, but he didn�t move away. His hand skimmed lightly down her arm, just brushing against fabric and skin. Very slowly, he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the center of her forehead, his breath warm as he whispered, �It wasn�t your fault.�
The knot inside her heart, the one that kept everything tightly bound in place where it belonged, pinged and then snapped. She nearly fell forward, sagging and slipping as everything she�d been frantically shoving into the background tumbled forward. His arms wrapped around her shoulders as she reached up to grab onto him. She�d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be touched.
Her forehead rested against the valley between his neck and shoulder, hands holding onto his arms, and the spinning feeling fading away into something entirely different. A flicker, a spark, the tiniest hint that Beaver hadn�t broken her beyond repair.
A quick jab at her memory determined it was almost acceptable to close her eyes and not move. Not perfectly acceptable because it was Eli Navarro and they were standing in a library, neither of which should ever be in the same sentence as touch and heat. She wasn�t quite sure how to reconcile the shoulds and the should nots, but the thought of letting go turned the pit of her stomach into a block of ice. It was the first time in months that she�d been able to close her eyes with being terrified of what she�d see when she opened them again.
His hands flattened against her back and began making slow, circular strokes brushing down to the small of her back, warm and soothing. Relaxing into him, she awkwardly tried to return the gesture by sliding her hands over his shoulders.
He smelled of a dozen things she didn�t have names for. Beaver had always smelled like a hospital and the one time she�d glanced through his bathroom, she�d found enough cleaners and anti-bacterial soaps to stock a doctor�s office. Bleach and antiseptic were what she associated with Beaver. But Weevil smelled of leather and laundry detergent and humanity.
She was waiting for him to pull away and give her a lame excuse for a moment of weakness. A reason why someone like Weevil could never want a girl like her. He was all danger and tattoos, while the only things that feared Mac were the dust bunnies under her bed.
Rough stubble scraped lightly against her forehead as he turned his head, soft lips smoothing over the same spot with a kiss. He reached up to slide her hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear. His hand stayed curled over her cheek, his thumb slowly stroking her cheekbone. Another gentle kiss and then another. The line between comfortingly platonic and something else was beginning to blur; she couldn�t help tensing against the implications that came with the change.
The sudden tension didn�t seem to faze him. His hand against the small of her back pulled her tight against him, locking her body into him like a puzzle piece. He should have been patting her on the head and sending her on her way, the shy nerd who was better off tucked into her bed. But he wasn�t.
Her body felt heavy on the outside but shivering on the inside, and she was terrified that her hands would shake if she let go for even a moment. What if she opened her eyes and none of it was really happening? She must�ve fallen asleep on her keyboard and would wake up any moment to the harsh reality that she was damaged goods and no one would ever want her.
The sound of a throat clearing snapped her out of the haze. �You can stop me any time,� he whispered against her forehead.
She forced her lips to move. �Maybe I don�t want you to stop.� The second-guessing started the moment she�d said it. What if he wanted her to tell him to stop? What if he was regretting ever setting foot in the library? She cringed and started to pull away.
�Going somewhere?� His hand slid around to the back of her head, tugging her hair just hard enough to lift her head.
Forehead to forehead, she finally opened her eyes and stared down at the inches now between them. Inches she�d put there when what she really wanted was to be pressed tight against him with his arms around her. The heavy fabric of her laptop case crinkled as his hand left her back. Fingers caught and curled around the strap at her hip, hot as a branding iron through her jeans. At an agonizingly slow pace, his hand moved up along the strap in stops and starts. Her breath caught in her throat as the back of his fingers dragged over her stomach and kept going.
It was surreal to watch his hand against the fabric of her t-shirt and feel the heat from his skin. With each shallow breath, her hands clenched and unclenched against the leather stretched over his back. His fingers reached the vee of her bra and knuckles bent, pressing ever so gently into the inner curve of her breast.
She wasn�t sure if she�d pass out if he stopped there or if he kept going, but either way, her head was spinning and her knees were beginning to feel like they were made of jello. Her cheeks were burning and she suddenly realized that she was panting in short, ragged breaths. Even with her impressive vocabulary, she couldn�t put to words what every inch of her body was screaming.
�Damn, girl. You�re not making this easy,� he murmured.
Reluctantly, she dragged her eyes away from his hand and searched his face for any sign of imminent rejection. �Is...is that bad?�
There was barely time to register what he was doing before he pulled the strap up and over her head, lowering her laptop smoothly down to the floor as he stepped her back until she was against the wall. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once: sliding down her arms, over her hips and back. Fingers tugged at the hem of her shirt, pushing it away to get to bare skin.
The incredible heat of his body was an odd bookend to the cold wall against her back. She tugged at the collar of his jacket, struggling to get it over his shoulders and away. It was a fumbling, awkward gesture that made her grossly aware of what she didn�t know. That he paused to shrug away the leather with equal impatience eased some of her self-consciousness. She was trying desperately to pay attention, to learn something useful; as if knowledge could make up for the fact that Beaver hadn�t wanted her, couldn�t want her.
�Look at me,� Weevil growled in her ear, his voice reverberating through her body.
She hadn�t realized her eyes were closed until she forced them open again, staring straight into dark brown eyes. Without breaking his stare, his hands grabbed onto her shirt and yanked it upwards. She barely managed to move her arms fast enough, gasping at the sudden onslaught of cold air against her skin. Her first impulse was to cover herself, but he was too close for that.
�Say my name,� he whispered roughly.
The word died in her throat and he wasn�t making it any easier. She felt the clasp of her bra give, the fabric slipping way to be replaced by the heat of his hand. Any coherent thought she might have had, or concern that she was half naked in a library, was swallowed up by the sensations caused by his thumb rubbing circles around her nipple.
�Oh god,� was all she managed to get out.
�Almost,� he breathed against her skin. �Wanna try again?�
�Weevil,� she choked out as his grip on her breast tightened. This couldn�t be happening, not to her. She was the last girl on Hearst campus anyone would want to press up against a wall.
�That�s my girl.� His lips burned tracks down her throat, teeth nipping at her skin.
She grabbed onto his shoulders to keep from collapsing right then and there, her knees buckling further at every touch. As ignorant as she was, she�d read enough editions of Cosmo to know why her heart was racing and every muscle in her body seemed to be humming like a guitar string. The tiny moans and gasps that were slipping past her lips were completely beyond her control, an overwhelming reaction to each brush of his fingers.
It occurred to her that she should worry about the final location of her shirt, but that thought was lost when his fingers latched onto the button of her jeans and she realized he wasn�t going to stop. He would keep going until there was nothing between them but a few molecules of air. The zipper of her jeans clicked as it slipped apart and she could feel the heat of his fingers against skin that had never been touched by hands other than her own. Memories and the specter of the past flooded back in a wave of horror.
�Wh-whoa...Weevil!� She pushed against his shoulders, more afraid that he would stop than not stop.
�You okay?� The concern in his voice was obvious, but his hand, half in and out of her jeans, didn�t move.
�I�m...I�m...I haven�t,� she stammered, desperately searching for any indication in his expression that her revelation would change the situation. �I don�t...I don�t know what to do.�
The hand against her stomach didn�t move as he tugged on her hair, pulling her head back. His breath was hot against her face; she almost collapsed when he pressed his lips hard against hers. It was only chaste for a fraction of a second before his tongue was sliding along her lower lip and his hand slipped down, pushing her cotton panties ahead of his knuckles.
�Oh...god,� she whimpered against his mouth. There was no logic left to her now. No fear that she was pressed up against a wall in the library, half naked, with Eli Navarro�s hand between her legs. It couldn�t be real, it couldn�t be � oh, god � she could barely handle the way her body reacted with each stroke of his fingers. He was trying to kiss her but she couldn�t breathe with his lips against hers. She pulled away when she felt his finger slide inside of her, arching back against the wall with enough force to be painful. Her hips moved involuntarily, bucking against his hand.
Teeth sunk into the skin at the base of her neck at the same time that he took hold of the waist of her jeans and tugged the fabric down over her hips. She wanted to cry because she was finally feeling something other than numb. Suddenly his heat was gone and she dizzily blinked the scene in front of her into focus. Books; rows and rows of them; and it was ironic that her only friends for all those years were now witness to a rite of passage.
Her hand brushed against rough stubble and she dared to look down, seeing her own naked body and the shaved head level with her hips. The feel of his tongue against sensitive skin was like nothing she�d ever felt before. Coupled with his fingers pushing and twisting inside of her was beyond incredible.
�Oh my god, oh my god,� she panted. His tongue lapped against her clit, unforgiving in the onslaught of sensation even as his fingers curled and stroked inside her. Any possible thought was harder and harder to put together into linear pieces.
She couldn�t breathe, couldn�t stand, couldn�t even think with everything racing through her brain. Weevil; his hands, his tongue, his fingers pressing deeper and deeper inside her until she thought she�d split apart. Grabbing, clutching, anything she could get hold of, she bucked against his grip. The only coherent thought in her brain was how badly she wanted him inside of her, filling her in ways she�d only dreamed of. More than his fingers, more than his tongue. She was shaking with the weight of the words just waiting to spill out of her mouth � fuck, oh god, fuck.
�Eli! Oh, god...oh god!� Even that one coherent thought exploded along with the tension in her body. She was screaming now, her own voice foreign and strange as she begged God and everything else to let her finally be normal.
His lips were hot against her skin, kissing his way up her stomach and between her breasts. He paused long enough to suck her left nipple into his mouth, his fingers still buried deep inside her. She arched her back, shaking and trembling and gasping for breath she knew she wouldn�t be able to catch.
�Still with me, chica?� he asked breathlessly.
She could feel his smile against her neck, gasping as he pressed his lips against hers and she could taste her own body on his tongue. Any possible rationality lost, she pushed him away enough to breathe. �Eli...oh, god.�
�Pretty sure God had nothing to do with it, but I�ll take that as a compliment.� He grinned against her lips before kissing her again. �Now, I don�t hang out in a lot of libraries, but aren�t you supposed to be quiet?�
�So your fault.� Shivering as her skin cooled, she looked around for clothing she needed to put back on before someone came down the corridor and saw them. When he pulled away from her to reach for her bra and t-shirt, she hurriedly yanked her panties and jeans back up her legs.
Now she was shaking for an entirely different reason and she desperately needed to get her clothes back on. She needed to get back to her dorm room where everything was sane and normal, where she could face her demons in solitude. And cry. She was pretty sure there was going to be crying involved at some point. No one fell in love and nearly gave their virginity to a serial killer without ending up with all sorts of unwieldy baggage. Wallowing in comfortably numb wasn�t going to be an option, couldn�t be an option, since she�d just had a full-out, screaming orgasm in a public library.
�Frying pan, meet fire,� she muttered as she adjusted her reacquired bra and t-shirt. Her first, incredible, someone-else-involved sexual experience and she couldn�t breath a word about it to anyone. Especially not Veronica, who might have preferred that Mac take her chances with the evils lurking in the campus shadows.
Her laptop reclaimed and slung over her shoulder, she started walking a little too fast. Not that she was trying to get away from him. She was trying to sort it all out in her head and push away the whispering craving to start all over again, to feel his hands on her skin again and again and maybe never stop touching him. Fear, pain, and self-doubt swirled around like a sandstorm in her head, blocking out any attempt she made to forge through territory unknown and make sense of it all.
Two fingers caught the crook of her elbow as she started down the stairs, not enough to stop her but enough to make her look at him. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. �Yes?�
�Something on your mind?� he asked tensely. When she couldn�t answer him, he reached out and brushed his knuckles against her cheek gently. �This might be a long walk if you�re gonna pretend I�m not here.�
�I wasn�t. I mean, I was just focused on�walking,� she lied.
�Yeah. All those steps. I can see how that might get confusing.� His fingers trailed down the inside of her forearm, tapping lightly against her palm and staying there in something that wasn�t quite holding her hand, but wasn�t quite not holding her hand either.
Her heart thudded hard in her chest and she couldn�t believe that he was still touching her, that he still wanted to touch her. Hope was too much to ask for. Her cheeks burned and she looked away to hide the blush. �You know...we could get coffee or something. I hear people do that. Sometimes.�
�Long as you don�t mind being seen with a felon,� he answered lightly. Too lightly to be casual and she didn�t have a clue how to respond.
She turned her eyes back to the stairs beneath her feet, fidgeting with the strap of her laptop case and wondering how on earth she�d ever be able to look at it without remembering the way his fingers pressed against her skin. One thing was sure; the library would never be the same.
***
�So?� Veronica met Weevil in the lobby of Mac�s dorm building. �What took so long?�
�Girl didn�t want to leave,� he snapped testily. �Next time you need me on babysitting duty, make sure the baby needs sitting.�
�Hey, can�t be too careful with a razor happy rapist running around.� She finally smiled sympathetically. Mac and men weren�t exactly coexisting peacefully at the moment; Weevil would be only the latest in a string of poor souls unlucky enough to experience Mac�s rage against his gender. �She give you a hard time?�
He snorted as he adjusted the collar of his jacket. �Something like that.�
�And what we talked about?�
His shoulders were visibly tense even under the layer of leather. �There some particular reason you wanted me to flirt with her?�
�There�s nothing like a good old-fashioned ego boost to raise a girl�s spirits. You�re not exactly hard the eyes and, besides, no one does sexual innuendo like my man Weevil. You�re the innuendo king, remember?�
�Yeah,� he sighed without looking directly at her.
Veronica stared at him, having expected a more enthusiastic acceptance of the title. Irritability was nothing new with Weevil and she�d hardly been expecting happiness and gusto from her newly jail-free cohort in the semi-legal, but this was first class moodiness from someone who usually put the s in stoic. �She must�ve been in rare form to get under your skin like this. Next time--�
�Next time?� he interrupted. �I�m not an escort service, Veronica.�
�I like to think of it as mobile bodyguard service. Escort has so many unsavory connotations. And she�ll warm up to you, I promise. She�s just been through something.�
�And did it ever occur to you that a girl with issues like she�s got might not feel comfortable around someone like me?� he demanded sharply, eyeing her with a hefty amount of accusation that she didn�t understand.
�But you�re a teddy bear. A lovable, tattooed, criminally-inclined teddy bear. I�d totally snuggle with you and scritch behind your ears.�
�You even try,� he said with a glower.
�Oh, come on, Weevil. You can spare an hour of your oh-so-valuable time.� She didn�t mention that he owed her because she hadn�t actually tallied up the favor balance and didn�t want to hold that over his head regardless. Part of her even hoped that a little of Mac, and Hearst, might rub off on him and help him find a direction to point his life toward. If anyone could be the poster child for achievement, it was Mac. �Maybe next time you could just throw her over your shoulder and haul her back to her dorm room?�
She may have imagined it but she thought she saw him twitch and there might have been a little too much color in his cheeks. Before she could be sure, he turned away and stalked out of the building.
Too curious to resist, she flipped open her phone and dialed in Mac�s cell phone number. After half a dozen rings, it went to voicemail. �Hey, Mac. It�s Veronica. And I just have to say, I�m impressed. I don�t think I�ve ever seen Weevil that rattled. Mind letting your bestest gal pal in on your secret weapon?�
