Rekindled Heat Ch. 02

He could tell she was struggling to move forward. He tried to keep the grin off his face, failing miserably as she stepped closer, a determined look on her face. Cautiously she took another step, watching him as if he might bite her. He stiffened at that thought, wondering if she liked it rough. Gage said she did. He frowned at the thought of Rachel with Gage. What the hell does she see in him? He wondered.

Finally, she reached the table, setting both hands atop it, keeping her bag on her shoulder. He stayed silent, admiring the way her dark jeans clung to her long, long legs, topped in a black shirt that emphasized her ample tits and a whitish sweater. She frowned at him, almost as if she could read his thoughts.

"Are you just going to stand there staring or are you going to sit?" he asked nonchalantly, glancing at the chair next to him.

Sighing, she sat, pulling her bag off her shoulders and setting it on the table.

"So it's calculus you're having trouble with?" he asked, mock seriously, delighting in the annoyed expression on her face.

"Yes, calculus. You already knew that."

"I was just checking," His grin belied his words, and she groaned.

"Look, if you're going to tutor me-"

"That's the plan."

She glared at his interruption, then sighed and flipped open her book.

"Fine. I'm having trouble balancing trigonometric equations."

He was a little surprised at her down to business attitude, but he started to help her on the problems in the section. He couldn't help but tease her when she got frustrated – she was so easy to anger, and she gave as good as she got.

And when she finally solved a problem on her own, the first time, the hundred-watt grin on her face was infectious.

After an hour and a half, she called an end to the session, sighing and stretching in her chair. He tried to ignore the wonderful things that did to the chest under her sweater, but he settled for looking away.

"I've got to say I'm surprised." She said as she packed up her bag. "I'm actually starting to understand some of this."

He very nearly didn't say what he did next. But something inside drove him to make this a challenge.

"Well, that's great. But I don't think I'm up for doing it again."

He nearly flinched when her face paled, but managed to control his expression. "

"What? Why-" She stopped, and the self-deprecating look in her features made him angry somehow. "I guess I should have expected that. But then, it's you we're talking about. You've never stood by anything in your life."

He growled, rising to his feet. "Well, look at you. Hope you're comfortable up there on that pedestal."

Color rose in her cheeks. "I'm on a pedestal? You mock me because I don't get calculus, you call me a whore, and I'm the one on a pedestal? Jesus. I don't know why I even sat down. I should have known you'd never help me."

He studied her for a long moment, taking in her stubborn chin, her soft, inviting mouth, and her sparkling eyes.

"Maybe I will."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, maybe I will help you. The question is, what are you willing to do for me?"

She stared at him. "Wh-what do you mean?"

He leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well, I need a little motivation."

"Gallagher, if your sick mind is thinking I'm going to–"

"Oh, calm down, Rach. Give me your number."

"What?"

"Your cell number." He gritted.

"Why?" She looked suspicious, and given their relationship, he wasn't surprised.

"Just give it to me."

She hesitated, and he cursed. "Do you want me to tutor you or not?"

As she bit her lip, he ground his teeth in frustration. "Well?"

Finally, she pulled a slip of paper out of her bag and scribbled a number on it, handing it to him.

He shoved it in his pocket and grinned, showing all his teeth. "When I call you, make sure you answer."

She glared at him, then left the library, her pace faster than usual.

Sighing, he followed her down the stairs, too far behind to see where she went. He touched the piece of paper in his pocket. He didn't need to follow her. He could have her back at his side with one call.

*****

"You did not!" Kate laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Yes! And when he finally pulled over to let us pass, he just gave us this terrified look." Rachel laughed, remembering the jerk from their high school she and Cooper had followed after he nearly rear-ended them.

"Then he realized who we were, and he turned bright red." Added Cooper, grinning as he sipped his drink. The two guys who'd come with them to dinner, Jake and Austin, cracked up. Kate shot Rachel a surreptitious glance, then darted her eyes to Jake. Rachel fought a groan. Kate had been trying to set Rachel up with Jake all night, and even though he was funny and sweet, there wasn't any chemistry there. She rolled her eyes at Kate, who pouted. She hid her smile as she sipped her iced tea, ignoring the questioning glance Cooper shot her. He had opened his mouth to say something about it, when their waiter returned to the table and asked if they wanted dessert.

Jake ordered cake to share, and she was about to add ice cream when her phone rang. She excused herself and stepped to the side, pressing her phone to her ear to hear better.

"Hello?"

"Isme. Come aget me." She scowled. It was Hunter, and it was obvious that he was falling down drunk.

"No. I'm busy."

"You wan me tutor you? Or you rather I drive home?" His voice was slurring less, she was relieved to hear.

Sighing, she grabbed her purse from the table, waving off her friend's questioning glances. "Gotta go. Call you later!" she called over her shoulder as she left.

"Where are you?" she asked, digging through her purse to find her keys. Why the hell are they always, always at the bottom? She wondered as her fingers closed around them and she unlocked her car.

"Downtown. Rico's." was his reply. She scowled again. Rico's was one of the seediest bars in the worst part of town. Usually she didn't worry overmuch about being downtown, but she had her reservations at ten on a Saturday, and at Rico's, where fights were the rule, not the exception.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Wait outside."

"Can. You godda get my keys."

Groaning, she pulled out of the parking lot and started towards downtown.

"Fine. Sit at the bar."

"Bossy."

Her angry response was cut off as he hung up. Cursing at the phone, she fought her way through late night traffic. Fifteen minutes turned into thirty, thanks to the construction going on as she got closer to downtown. Finally, she squeezed into a parking space near Rico's and hurried inside.

Wading through the hordes of people, most of them still sober enough to push back, she found her way to the bar. It took her a second to find Hunter in the madness, but there he was, slumped in a stool at the end of the bar.

"Finally." He complained as she took his keys from the bartender.

Ignoring him, she groaned as he tried to stand and swayed.

"There's an alley out back, if you can't get him to the street." Offered the bartender.

"Wait there." She told him, figuring he could at least haul his own ass across the bar. "I'm going to pull the car around." Turning back before she got too far away, she added, "And if you're going to throw up, do it here. I just washed my car."

Pushing her way back through the bar, she turned into the alleyway behind the bar, shivers crawling up her spine at the deep shadows there.

Hurrying out of her car, she reached for the back door of the club.

A strong hand wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her back and slamming her against the wall. Heart pumping, she struggled, but the man was bigger than she was, and he pressed her to the grimy brick wall, preventing her from moving. She sucked in a deep breath to scream, but he squeezed her throat with one large hand, cutting off her air. She choked, coughing when he released his grip.

"I like 'em noisy." He grunted in her ear as he ground against her. "But you need to be quiet." She realized with a jolt that he was already hard, pressing against her stomach.

She tried to get an elbow between them, but he was stronger than she thought. Squirming only seemed to excite him more, and she cringed as his hands swept beneath her skirt, roughly yanking it down. She let out a startled shriek, panic surging through her.

"No!" she managed, finally giving him a weak push. He stumbled back only a foot, but his face twisted into a mask of rage. Growling, he slammed her to the wall again, harder this time. He pinched her breast sharply, making her whimper in pain. She kept struggling as he shoved a hand into her panties, wincing as his nails raked across her hip. She pushed as hard as she could against him, but it was blow delivered from her left that sent the man stumbling back.

Breathing hard, she leaned against the wall as Hunter stumbled into the alley. Light and noise floated out of the bar behind him, and the man took off. She struggled to pull her skirt up as Hunter started towards her.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice clearer now.

"Y-yeah, I think so." She answered, mentally checking her body for injuries. She would be sore and bruised, but there was nothing serious.

"Sure?" he persisted, coming closer.

"Yeah. Come on, get in the car." She helped him into her passenger seat, trying not to shake as the adrenaline left her. Ignoring his gaze, she maneuvered out of the alleyway and back towards campus. The ride passed in silence, seeming to take forever. At long last, they reached his apartment, and she helped him to the main entrance, though he wasn't leaning on her much anymore. Just as he began to open one of the heavy double doors, she cautiously put a hand on his arm.

"Hunter? Thanks. I- just thanks."

He just shook his head and headed inside.

Sighing, she got back in her car and returned to her apartment, where she fell into bed after changing and brushing her teeth, and putting antibiotic cream on the scratches he had left on her hip.

But it was a long time before she fell asleep, her mind racing, always coming back to one question.

Why had Hunter intervened?

*****

Cooper caught up to her again at breakfast Sunday morning.

"Hey." He said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her banana from her tray.

Rachel mock glared at him, then grinned. "Morning. And you owe me a banana."

He laughed. "So where you'd go last night?"

She shot him a sideways glance, trying to decide whether he was trying to change the subject or not. "Ummm . . . just . . . I had to pick up a friend."

He frowned. "Who?"

She sighed. Rachel really didn't want to lie to him, but he wouldn't be happy if he found out she'd bailed Hunter out.

"A friend."

He looked at her now, studying her face. "Fine. I guess you don't want me to know-"

"Hunter, okay? It was Hunter."

His face darkened. "Why the hell did you need to pick him up?"

"I just-he was drunk. He needed someone to give him a ride home, so rather than let him drive drunk, I just . . . gave him a ride."

"He could have called a cab, Rachel."

"I know! But he called me. And I thought he'd try to drive if I didn't come get him."

Cooper sighed. "Even Hunter wouldn't do that."

"Well I know that now!" she replied, more defensively than she meant to. "Look, he just called, and I said yes, okay?"

Cooper gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you."

She smiled back, relieved. "I know. Now how about that banana?"

He laughed and set his bagel on her tray. "I'd say we're even."

"A bagel for a banana? Please!" she laughed, falling into their usual friendly bickering.

When Kate dropped into the chair next to Rachel ten minutes later, she groaned.

"Over a banana, you guys? Really?" Rachel laughed and snagged the apple on Kate's tray, barely escaping with her prize.

"Not anymore." She said, taking a big bite out of the apple.

"Whatever makes you happy. You're pretty easy, you know."

"That's what all the boys say." She delivered, deadpan. Kate choked on her tea, coughing and laughing at once. Cooper groaned and rolled his eyes, then retrieved his bagel from Rachel's tray.

"Oh, yeah, how'd that tutoring session go? Was he hot?" Kate asked, taking a bite out of her pastry.

"Good, actually. I think I might be able to pass if I keep going."

Kate looked at her expectantly, but Rachel hastily changed the subject. She knew her friends would think it was strange that she had actually agreed to let Hunter tutor her, much less ask him to. She'd deal with that situation when the time came.

*****

Hunter woke, only to groan and cover his face with his pillow. The light streaming in through the window nearly blinded him, and he could feel the beginnings of a killer headache.

He sighed. He had things he had to do today, but it felt like the most complicated thing he was capable of would be sitting up. He had a niggling sensation in the back of his mind. Something seemed out of place. In his room? No, his clothes were in a heap like he'd left them, his phone on the stand by his bed. He sighed again: whatever was different, it couldn't be that bad.

After five minutes of rolling around to try to find a comfortable position, Hunter decided he might as well get up. Taking his time, squeezing his eyes shut against the bright daylight, he slowly shuffled to the shower. It was a Sunday, so his side of the apartment was empty. The fierce headache made his movement drag, and it was only when he stepped under the hot spray of the showerhead that he noticed the marks on his knuckles.

He'd been in enough fights to know that the shallow cuts suggested he'd punched someone, but he could only dredge up vague images of an alley.

As he showered, he tried to remember everything that happened last night. It felt as if everything was there, but he couldn't grab hold of anything long enough to remember it.

Rachel. Rachel had been there.

Why? He wondered. He'd been drinking at Rico's; he knew Rachel wouldn't go there. And unless he ran into her, he usually tried to avoid her.

I called her, he remembered with a jolt. But why? He knew she'd shown up, and the look on her face, like he was worse than the scum beneath her feet, had clouded his mind for a moment. Then she had left, to pull the car around-

To the alley. He recalled that she was taking forever, and when he finally went outside to check on her, fury had overwhelmed him. Why?

He scrubbed hard, trying desperately to summon up the reason for his rage.

Finally, it came to him. A man – some disgusting, horny, son-of-a-bitch – had her pushed up against the wall, his hand under her skirt, pushing it up her thighs. Just as the night before, he saw red at the thought of someone – anyone – doing that to Rachel. So he'd punched the guy. He remembered the guy running off, the satisfactory burn in his hand, and seeing the fear in Rachel's eyes.

Stepping out of the shower, he frowned. What the hell was that, anyway? Why did he feel this . . . imperative need to protect her? Almost every time he'd seen her, since freshman year, he'd tried to get under her skin. Hurt her even. He knew damn well she could take care of herself but-

Not last night.

Last night, Rach was in over her head, and the thought of what that man had wanted to do – would have done – made him sick and irate at the same time.

Groaning, he glanced at the clock and swore. It was already 12, and he'd told Jessica Greenhagh that he'd meet her for lunch. Usually he'd just blow it off, but knowing Jessica, she'd annoy him about it for years. Hunter dressed simply in a dark blue dress shirt, jeans, and old sneakers. Grabbing his wallet off the desk, he looked around for his keys.

Damn. He'd left his truck downtown. He glanced at his watch again, and decided he could make it if he hurried.

*****

Rachel hurried into the only on campus Chinese place, Ming's, hoping the line wasn't too long. Weaving her way through the tables towards the pickup counter, she bumped into someone. As she turned, her apology died on her lips at the sight of Hunter Gallagher. Rachel scowled.

"Your car's parked outside Rico's." She figured he'd forgotten, considering how drunk he'd been. Judging from the black look he shot her, he had.

"Great." There was so much disdain in his voice that she wanted to hit him. She settled for turning on her heel and hurrying towards the pickup counter, but she didn't get far before Hunter grabbed her arm. Impatiently, she tugged it out of his grip.

"What?" she demanded, her voice full of impatience. The expression on his face was almost . . . unsure.

"I was just going to- I just wanted to say thanks. For picking me up."

"I assumed it was part of the deal." She spat, leaving him standing there, looking confused.

Flushed, Rachel paid for her food and hurried out of the restaurant. She hadn't meant to be rude; her parents had raised her to be as polite as possible, but his gratitude had shocked her. Wasn't it part of what their deal? If not, why would he thank her? She briefly considered the possibility that he was just being nice, but immediately discarded it as ridiculous.

What if he's changed? A tiny voice in her head insisted. What if he's different? She took a deep breath, trying to push away the longing she felt for the old Hunter. They had had a perfect friendship; he had known when to tease her, and when to be serious. He had always been able to make her laugh with his sarcastic sense of humor, and he had understood how her mind worked. She laughed out loud, remembering some of the times she'd had to explain it to Cooper, with no success. Hunter had just laughed at their friend's confusion, unable to explain it any better.

Most likely, he was just experiencing a momentary lapse in his usual asshole behavior. But if not, she certainly wasn't encouraging him by snapping. If, in fact, he was trying to turn over a new leaf, she would try her best to support him.

Wouldn't she?

She was fine with him now. She could deal with his nastiness, even if she got tired of it sometimes. But she wasn't sure how she would handle him if he suddenly decided to be friendly. What if he changed again? It had hurt like hell, coming back to school only to find that he had turned his back on her. Was she willing to open herself up to that again?

Shaking her head, as if to chase away the troublesome thoughts there, Rachel waved to Lacy, her roommate from freshman year. Lacy beckoned for her to come over, and Rachel did, offering some of her Chinese food. She let herself shove her earlier thoughts to the back of her mind as she laughed with Lacy over eggrolls and sweet and sour pork. But in every lull, her mind fell back into the same track.

He probably wasn't changing. But she couldn't help hoping.

*****

The house Rachel had grown up in hadn't changed. It was a two-story, plantation style house on a block full of similar homes. Overgrown shrubs and uncut grass surrounded the wide porch, in sharp contrast to the well-groomed lawns of the neighbors. It needed a new coat of paint, and the floorboards inside creaked under her weight. Dust lay thick in some rooms, the trash bin was full, and she could see that most of the trash was beer bottles. Glancing into the formal living room, she could see the Christmas decorations she'd put up last year were still up, but the table in the corner covered in photographs of her mother was clean. Sighing, she called to her father, who hurried in from the den.

"Rachel! Sweetie, you're early." She forced a smile, kissing her dad on the cheek as she set down her purse.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I thought I'd start dinner early." Her father smiled, a meager shadow of his old grin.