The Only Exception

CHAPTER 5

After another political science class, that thankfully Trey wasn’t in, I grabbed a quick sandwich from the student union and then headed for the library. Sam said she wouldn’t smoke pot in the apartment anymore, but I thought I’d probably get more work done if I just went somewhere else.

Taylor’s library was crammed into one of the many classroom buildings that were all in a city atmosphere. It didn’t have much more than a computer lab and one floor of reference books. Central’s library was like something out of a fairy tale. I walked in and inhaled the scent of leather and dust. There were rows and rows of books, and in the middle, a grand staircase led up to the second and third floor. I wanted to grab one of the ladders and slide across the rows of shelves like Belle in Beauty and the Beast, but instead I just headed up the stairs to the second floor. Bright lights shone in from the long floor-to-ceiling windows and flooded the room with light.

I crept through each row of books until I found a secluded area. There was a small, round table right above a sunken quarter with couches and pillows. I didn’t know what kind of deeds had been done on those couches, so I settled for the table. I set my messenger bag down on the table and sat down in the chair before pulling out my laptop and booting it up. I connected to the wireless Internet and browsed through my email. There were a few spam messages and a coupon good for The Gap, but then a message I didn’t expect to see came up. A message from Brittani Forrester, the president of Taylor’s chapter of Kappa Beta. I hadn’t even spoken to her since I left.

I opened the email and read through it quickly.

Hey Mon,

I hadn’t talked to you since you left. I didn’t actually even know that you transferred until I was sending in roster stuff to Nationals. I notified Central’s chapter that you were coming and talked to their president. Her name is Layla Donaldson and she said she would be happy to have you join their chapter. Her email is [email protected]. I hope everything else is okay, and we miss you! We’d love to hear from you! It’s been awhile!

Love,

Brittani

Chapter President of Kappa Beta

Taylor University

Omega Chi chapter

[email protected]

I couldn’t believe it. I guess the other girls never told her about the party; about the night that would never leave my mind. The one that still made me shutter whenever I thought about going to a party or a fraternity house. There was no way in hell I would be contacting the president of Kappa at Central, and I hoped she didn’t find me. I quickly deleted the email and went on to check my Facebook.

“And we meet again, Miss Remy.”

Ugh, not him, not again. He was the last person I wanted to see. I peered over my laptop and there was Trey Chapman with his hands in his pockets, standing at the other end of the table. He didn’t seem like a real threat; he never actually tried to put the moves on me, but there was a first time for everything. And now he was standing there; just us. I swallowed hard, trying to regain some moisture in my mouth so I could talk.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked.

“Yes,” I snapped. “All of my imaginary, liberal friends are joining me so we can talk about free healthcare for all.”

He didn’t miss a beat, taking the seat across from me and folding his hands on the table. “Why do you have to fight this so much? I thought we had a good time at Mario’s and aside from your roommate’s rants, I think you enjoy having me around.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re just my neighbor and the guy I’m stuck working with on this debate assignment. Nothing more.”

He leaned over, pushing my laptop down so it didn’t close, but so he could get a full view of my face. “I think you want it to be more. You can’t deny how much you like having me around, even if all we do is discuss politics.”

I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. There was a part of me that loved talking about politics, and a part of me that hated it. The part of me that hated it was because of all the headline readers who didn’t actually know what they were talking about. Trey did know exactly what he was talking about and had valid arguments for his points.

“I can talk politics with anyone,” I muttered. “There is an entire major of people I can talk to.”

He leaned in, his face was so close I could see the trail of freckles that led down his nose and into his lip line. I had to bite my lip and control my urge to run my finger along every single one of those freckles. “Yes, you’re right that there are plenty of other people you can talk to, but I’m the one you want to sit next to on the couch with a cup of coffee in your hand and the nightly news on. You can’t hide the fact that you’ve thought about me more than once since the first time you saw me in the hallway.”

I swallowed. I was never a good actress and an even worse liar. My mind drifted to his idea of sitting together on the couch, drinking coffee, and discussing the war on terrorism and its effect on local politics, but I had to shake off those thoughts. This wasn’t just another guy, this was Trey Chapman. He was the son of the evil, conservative politician that proposed birth control should not be covered in any circumstance and wanted my uterus to be regulated by the government.

“I don’t date Republicans,” I quipped.

The smile broadened on his face, highlighting the dimples on his cheek. He was too damn cute for his own good. “And I don’t usually date bleeding-heart liberals, but for you, I think I can make an exception.”

Footsteps sounded near us and some rustling of papers. I tore my gaze away from Trey and saw two of the girls from my Women’s Studies class near the reference stack. One of them smirked in my direction. I smiled and waved gingerly.

Trey waved as well, which didn’t help matters. “Who are they?” he whispered.

“Some girls from my Women and Gender in Society class,” I whispered back, not even looking at him.

“Women’s Studies and Political Science? You really are a bleeding-heart liberal. I hope you aren’t going to tell me that you’re a part of the feminist group and don’t want to date me because you prefer the company of females.”

I let out a groan and looked at Trey. “Seriously? That is so stereotypical. I’m double majoring because I actually want to do something for women’s rights, not just let some politician control my reproductive system.”

“So, then you aren’t a lesbian, and you’ll finally agree to let me take you out again?” He raised his eyebrows high on his head.

“In your dreams.”

The two girls strolled by our desk, the one with the short, spiky hair spoke loud enough for me to hear. “And she said they weren’t dating.”

I shot my head up to say something, but they were already walking past us and disappeared behind one of the many bookshelves. I should have ran after them. I should have set them straight, but instead I just glared at Trey.

He smiled in return. “So, you’re talking about me in your feminist classes? It can’t be all bad if people think we’re dating.”

I groaned, shutting my laptop the rest of the way and putting it in my messenger bag. “People think we’re dating because you won’t leave me alone. Don’t you get the hint?”

He slowly shook his head. “Miss Remy, I don’t know what kind of signals you’re trying to give me, but the more you challenge me, the sexier I find you.”

I stopped moving. My heart felt like it was doing somersaults in my chest. He just called me sexy. I had to admit that I found him witty and unbelievably attractive, but I wasn’t expecting him to throw out the sexy card. I didn’t know the conservative had it in him.

“Flattery isn’t going to score you a date,” I stammered.

“But I did catch you off-guard enough to think about it?” He steepled his fingers together.

“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation, Mr. Chapman.”

He laid his hands flat with his palms on the table between us. “Are you telling me that you have a boyfriend?”

“No…”

“Then this shouldn’t be a problem. I enjoy spending time with you; you enjoy spending time with me, and whether you like it or not we’re going to have to work on this project for Westerfield’s class either way. And that is going to require us to spend some time together.”

I groaned and stood up, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder. “Just because we’re project partners, doesn’t mean I’m going to date you. It’s strictly business.”

Trey stood in front of me. I never noticed how great of a physique he had and tried not to stare. Even with his slightly spiky-gelled hair he only had a few inches on me, but every bit of his body fit like a glove into his well-tailored outfit. I wondered if he worked out, or if he had the knobby things that dipped into his V line. I didn’t know what they were called, but they made smart girls do stupid things whenever they saw a guy without his shirt on. Or any clothes at all. This was no time to picture Trey naked. That was reserved for when I was alone and could pretend it was by accident. It’s not like it would ever go farther than make-believe either.

“A business date it is then,” he said, putting his hand out to me.

I took his hand in mine and shook it. “Not a date. Just business.”

He kept his hand on mine. The shaking had slowed down, but he didn’t let go. “Business that involves a planned outing to study. Possibly at a restaurant or my apartment.”

I wanted to let go of his hand, sort of. I wondered what they would feel like running through my hair, down my back, and even lower. “No restaurant and not your apartment. If I give you my number so we can set up a time to work on the project, will you abuse it?”

The shaking had slowed down so it was nothing more than a slight swing of our hands. He kept his eyes locked on me like there was no one else in the world. “If you gave me your number, I promise to only use it when I really need you.”

He took his free hand and reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek, smartphone. “Now, what is it?”

I didn’t technically need to give him my phone number, but with his hand on mine and the freckles on his nose calling to me, I had no other choice but to ramble it off.

***

When I finally got back to my apartment Sam was camped out on the couch with her laptop. She had some sort of metal music playing, but turned it off when she saw me come in and took her fishnet stocking clad feet off the table.

“Hey, roomie, how were classes?”

“Fine, I guess,” I said, shrugging my messenger bag onto the counter and reaching into the freezer. The sandwich from earlier barely filled me up and even though it was only five, I was starving, so I grabbed a frozen meal.

“You guess? Does it suck that much here?” Sam set her laptop down and walked over to the counter, her vinyl skirt squeaking against the stool as she sat down.

“Ugh, it’s just a weird story.”

She leaned in. “I’m all ears.”

I popped the meal in the microwave, pressed a few buttons, and then turned back to her, leaning my back against the fridge. “Okay, I know it’s stupid, but I had my first class with Trey, and now I’m stuck working with him on a project.”

Her eyes widened like Easter eggs. “Trey Chapman? Douchebag governor’s son?”

“Do you know anyone else with a stupid name like Trey?”

“Touché.”

“Anyway,” I continued. “It wouldn’t be so bad, but that guy is like everywhere. He sat next to me in class and then when I was in the library he showed up there, trying to convince me to go on a date with him.”

“Wow,” Sam said and then just paused, staring down at her black-painted fingernails.

“Wow what?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, it’s just weird. He’s always been a cocky a*shole because it’s in his privileged nature, but I’ve never actually seen him pursue a girl. The closest is when he’s handing out flyers for the Republican student organization. I just assumed he was in the closet or something.”

I blinked hard. Trey never went after another girl? I just figured I was his latest victim. Sam had to have her facts wrong. “That seems silly. I assume he has a flock of girls that are always around him. Chicks dig guys in power.”

Sam set her hands on the counter. “Not that I’ve seen. Sure, there are plenty of stupid-ass girls that chase after him, but I’ve never actually seen him with a girl. There must be something about your red-headed charm that has his dick hard.”

I rolled my eyes; she would make a crass statement like that. “Please. First off, my hair is auburn. Second off, Trey is probably just using some charming bullshit to turn me into a Republican drone.”

She slid off the chair and walked around the island into the kitchen. “That could be true as well. Do you think he’s planning on implanting your brain with some crazy software and turning you into a Stepford wife?” She put her arms out in front of her, like Frankenstein, and pursed her lips into an O shape. “I am Republican woman, please take my rights and then let me blow you, eep, eep, epp.” She walked across the kitchen like some sort of robot monster. I snorted, watching her.

The timer went off on the microwave and I opened it, pulling out the frozen meal. Sam stopped her Stepford robot walk and then leaned against the counter. “Seriously, though, I hope you aren’t falling for his shit. I can deal with not smoking pot in the apartment, but I don’t know how cool I would be living with a Republican.”

I stirred the pseudo pasta in the cardboard container and then looked at Sam. “Don’t worry, if there’s one thing I will never be, it’s a Republican.”

I could have said that I would have never dated Trey either. But thinking about his dimples and the way his eyes locked on me when he smiled; I had to put my body in check to make sure my fantasies were never voiced and just stayed inside my head.

If my counselor knew about my thoughts she would probably be jumping up and down. I spent the summer hiding out in my room and ignoring everything remotely social. I didn’t even expect anyone would want to talk to the transfer student in a school of thousands, but Trey pushed me out into the spotlight. Something my family had been trying to do all summer. I preferred to blend into the crowd, but being on a Trey’s radar probably stopped any chance of that happening.