Rekindled Heat Ch 01

Rachel Durand frowned, unconsciously chewing her lip as she stared at the math problem before her. The light was dim in the classroom, one lone desk lamp casting shadows on the walls around her slim form. Her eyebrows were pressed together as she studied the equation in the book, then the problem on the white board before her, and back to the book again. Substituting the numbers in, checking each step, and carefully doing the math next to each part of the equation, Rachel groaned and half-heartedly tossed the marker at the wall when she came up with the same wrong answer. For the fifth time in a row. Sighing in frustration, she trudged over to where the marker had landed and picked it up, erasing the board and starting over again.

Rachel had never been a math whiz, but she had also never had a hard time with it. But the calculus class her university required had changed all that. She struggled through the class, never understanding the material, even with frequent visits to office hours. She'd failed the practice final, despite her efforts. The fact that she was in the math department, on a Thursday night, when she usually would be playing pool with her friends Jenna and Kate, flirting with guys and relaxing, was a testament to her desperation. She swore as the formulas and rules began to swim before her eyes. Rubbing them fiercely, she tried to focus on the page. She started when her phone rang, the blaring sound painfully loud in the quiet of the room. Checking the caller id, she picked up and greeted her Jenna tiredly.

"Hey! Me and Kate met these guys and they wanted to catch a late movie. Wanna go?" Running a hand through her hair, she actually considered it. Imagining how nice it would be to chill out, forget the stupid math problem that was kicking her ass. Then her conscience kicked in, and she sighed.

"I can't. I have to get this stuff before next week or I'm not going to pass the class."

"Bummer." Jenna commiserated. She heard laughter in the background, and said goodbye, almost wishing she could let herself go.

But it was more important to try to understand the material. Calculus was required for her degree in psychology, and it was by far her most difficult class. Settling back against the table, she focused in on the problem again.

Not five minutes later, the door to the room burst open, banging against the wall. Rachel spun around and her heart sank to her stomach when she saw who the intruder was. His harsh laugh raised her guard.

"Well. I never thought I'd see you in a math class." To other girls, the deep husk of his voice might have seemed sexy, but it sent chills down Rachel's spine.

"What are you doing here, Gallagher?" she asked wearily, not feeling up to their usual verbal sparring.

"I should ask you the same question,

Durand

." He leaned against the table, crossing his muscled arm over his equally toned chest.

When she merely glared at him, he chuckled and advanced, grabbing the marker from her and writing the solution beneath the problem. Rachel couldn't help but gape, managing to wipe the expression away before he turned around, smugly staring down at her. Finding her voice, she lifted her chin and met his gaze.

"What does it look like? I'm working on calc."

"Why? It's simple." He was baiting her, and she knew it. He had never had trouble with math, but he wasn't a genius either.

She couldn't help but scoff. "Simple?

Calculus

is simple?"

"Eh. Maybe it's you that's simple." His eyes shone with mischief, letting her know just how happy he was to piss her off. But he also knew that her intelligence was a sore spot.

She cursed the heat that flooded her cheeks, refusing to look away. His eyebrows quirked and he gave her his crooked grin. He knew exactly how to get to her.

"Screw you. And why the hell are

you here?"

"It's a shortcut. Why are you so interested?"

She frowned. "I'm not. You can go now." Dismissing him with a wave of her hands, she turned to the board, studying the equation and the solution he'd written. Unaware of his perusal of her back and ass, she spoke to him over her shoulder. "Why aren't you leaving? Isn't someone waiting for you?"

"Why are you so concerned with my schedule, Rach? Your newest fuck buddy not doing it for you?"

Trying to control the blush that was brought to her face, Rachel took a deep breath. He was just trying to provoke her with his crudeness. She spun around and scowled up into his face, which was suddenly much closer than before. For a moment, she got caught up in the hard planes of his face, the Roman nose, the strong jaw, the intense eyes. Mentally shaking herself, she pulled herself back to the conversation.

"I don't give a damn about your schedule, Jamie. And my fuck buddy is doing just fine, thank-you. Go ahead and take your shortcut. I need to work on this-," she pointed to the board, "and I don't have time for your crap."

He grinned down at her, his warm breath fanning across her face. His large, rough hand came up to her face, almost touching her skin, but not quite. She set her jaw and knocked his hand away, fighting the shiver that threatened to run down her spine. Raising her eyebrows, she forced coolness into her voice. "Gallagher, leave. I have to-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Even though you're dumb, I didn't think you were that dumb. It's just calculus."

"Just calculus! Are you insane?" she burst out, backing away. What the hell is his problem, she thought. What gives him the right to criticize me for not understanding calculus? Taking a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her hair, not noticing how his gaze snapped to the motion. "Just leave. I don't know why you decided to antagonize me tonight, but I'm really not in the mood." Turning quickly to gather up her book, she stilled as a wave of dizziness hit her. Crap. The one day I forget to eat, she thought, grasping the edge of the desk and shutting her eyes as vertigo rolled over her.

"Rachel?" Her eyes opened, and she pushed past him on her way out.

"Go bug someone else, Hunter!" she yelled over her shoulder as she slammed the door behind her.

As she hurried across the upper quad to the main path, she pushed away the nagging sound of Jamie's voice in her head.

He had almost sounded worried. But that was crazy. Wasn't it?

*****

Hunter scowled as he dumped his gym bag on the couch in his tiny on campus apartment. The encounter with Rachel had turned his mood sour.

Why the hell could she piss him off like no one else? Ever since seventh grade, they'd argued whenever they were near each other. He couldn't resist pushing her buttons, and she always returned the favor. Other girls might laugh off his comments but Rachel never hesitated to call him out. And unlike other girls, Rachel possessed a sharp wit and a sarcastic sense of humor.

But tonight she'd seemed tired. Why the hell had she frozen like that, eyes squeezed shut, fingers in a death grip on the table? For a second it had him . . . worried?

Shaking his head, he tried to get the image of her midnight curls and sparkling green blue eyes out of his mind. Not to mention the sight of her tits pressing against her shirt, and the sensual curve of her hips that peeked above the rise of her jeans. Groaning, he fell onto the couch and flipped on the TV.

For some reason, Rachel Durand could irritate him and turn him on more than anyone else. But he'd be damned if he'd tell her that.

The next morning, Cooper Winters caught up with Rachel as she picked up breakfast in the dining hall.

"Hey." He greeted her as he filled a bowl with cereal and added milk.

"Morning."

He cut a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the heavier makeup around her eyes.

"I guess studying didn't go too well?"

She laughed, the sound humorless. "No. I'm really beginning to hate it. And guess who showed up to add to the fun?"

"Damn, Rach, that sucks. Did you get any sleep?"

Smiling ruefully, she added a muffin to the coffee and strawberries on her tray, then found a table.

"Some. I have to get this math crap, or I'm never gonna pass that class."

He scowled as they started eating. A long time ago, she'd asked him for help in math. Six hours, three outbursts, and twelve pages of paper later, he'd concluded that math was the one area where they spoke completely different languages.

"Maybe you should ask the professor if there's tutoring you can get." Digging into his cereal, he tried to ignore the uselessness he felt from not being able to help her.

"Mmm hmmm. . ." she nodded, zoning out as she sipped her coffee.

They lingered over breakfast, talking about the week, the weekend, and nothing at all.

She glanced at her phone and groaned. "If I'm gonna catch Bauer at his office hours, I gotta go."

"Sure. See you later."

Grabbing her bag and tossing the empty coffee cup in the trash, she hurried out of the dining hall, blinking at the bright sunshine outside. The weather in this part of California was usually dull and grey now, in February, so the unexpected weather was welcome. Pausing a moment to enjoy the sun in the dull grey sky, Rachel then hurried on across the lower quad to the main path, then to the mathematics building. As she rushed up the stairs to the entrance, she slammed into a brick wall. Groaning, she looked up into the malevolent face of Hunter Gallagher.

"Two times in twenty four hours, Rach. You got a thing for your professor or something?" He had a vise like grip on her arms, holding her in place.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Let me go." She pulled ineffectively at his wrists, but his grip tightened painfully.

He laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were fucking one of the old guys. Guess you're not good enough to keep your grade up, huh?"

"God dammit, Gallagher, let me go!" He did, so suddenly that she nearly lost her balance.

"Later Rach." He drawled over his shoulder as she stood there for a moment, getting her bearings again. Cursing, she hurried to professor Bauer's office, arriving just as he was packing up his briefcase.

"Miss Durand. I'm on my way out-" She shook her head, realizing that if not for her difficulty understanding the class, he probably wouldn't know her name.

"Wait, professor, I just was wondering if there's any tutoring I could get."

He frowned, the lines on his weathered face coming into sharp relief. "I believe there is someone I could ask. I'll let you know on Monday. But really, Miss Durand, if the course is too advanced for you-"

"No! I can pass it. I just need someone to help me a little."

Nodding, he finished packing his briefcase and ushered her out of the room.

"I'll ask around. But if you cannot understand the material, I would advise you to drop the class. It's early enough in the quarter that you would not be too far behind in another class."

Frowning, she left the building, paying more attention to her surroundings this time as her mind went back to the confrontation with Hunter. What the hell was his problem? She knew he used crudeness to shock her, had ever since she was fourteen. She had never understood what had happened that year, when everything had changed.

Rachel smiled, waving goodbye to Hunter and Cooper as they turned down Holbrooke and she continued on Vassar. It was a beautiful autumn day, the air crisp but the sun warm on her back, freshly fallen leaves crunching under her sneakered feet. She fingered the folded note in her pocket, she forced herself to be cool, not to open Hunter' note until she got home. Glancing up the tree lined suburban street, she hurried her pace, seeing her mother's red sedan parked in the driveway of their two-story house. Her mother was usually home in the evening, but on the rare day she came home early, Rachel was always greeted with the smell of some goody baking mingling with the scent of detergent and the soft whirring of the washing machine. She unlocked the door, and nearly stopped dead at what she heard. Or more precisely, what she didn't hear. The house was silent, only the vague aroma of old coffee and stale air. "Mom?" she called, dropping her backpack on the floor and wandering into the kitchen. There was a bottle of wine on the worn countertop, like when her parents had those stupid date nights where they whisked her off to grandmas. She still felt a small sting of pain, of longing. Her grandmother had passed away almost a year ago, and even though she was a ripe old eighty-nine, they all missed her.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Rachel called to her mother again as she checked the dining room, and the small laundry nook off the kitchen. Finding them empty, she ascended the stairs, calling for her mom. Checking the spare bedroom they used as storage, an office, and an exercise room, then her bathroom, she continued on to her parents' room. The door to the bathroom was almost shut, unusual for this time of day. She knocked softly, and the door fell open against her hand. Hesitating, she continued into the room. "Mom, what-" she stopped cold at the sight of her mother in the bathtub, suds mostly gone. An empty wineglass was on the side of the tub, and at first, she thought her mother was asleep. She lay in the tub, hair up in a clip, arms tilted awkwardly. But her eyes were partially open, and in their blue depths, so like her own, she knew the truth. There was no light there, no life. Gasping for air, she tried to scream but couldn't get the breath.

On shaky legs she approached, flinching back as her hand rested on her mother's shoulder. There was no life warmth there, and she had the sudden urge to scrub her hands with bleach. Backing out of the bathroom, she made it to the threshold before she threw up, finally finding her voice. Her first instinct was to call her father, to find out what to do, to find reassurance. But she remembered the police officer who'd come into her class for the D.A.R.E. program, who'd told them what to do. Shaking, she crawled to her parents' bedside, picking up the phone and barely managing to dial the three numbers. The operators calm voice only served to ratchet up her fear, but she explained as best she could, obediently reciting her address. Setting the phone down without hanging up, she sank down, laying her face against the soothing warmth of the carpet. The familiar scents of her mother's favorite perfume, and clean carpet surrounded her.

That was how the police found her, conscious but unresponsive, in a fetal ball on the floor, phone next to her hand. The rest of it was a blur, as the police asked her questions, her father arriving and screaming when he saw his wife's body. She remembered a female officer giving her a cup of cocoa, but nothing else was distinctive until she was alone, sitting in the room she now shared with her distant cousin. She couldn't seem to cry, not at the funeral, and not now. Every night she had woken, drenched in sweat, to the sight of her mother's lifeless body. But there were never any tears, and she wondered if she'd ever be able to cry again.

A year later, she'd returned to her hometown, a different house this time, but the same school. A fourteen year old Cooper had found her, the day before school started, sitting alone on her porch swing. He'd instantly known something was wrong, and hugged her with all the ferocity of a grown man, not knowing what it was, but knowing what she needed most. The next day at school, he'd held her hand as they entered the main building, greeted by stares. Finally, she asked about Hunter, only to be told that he was in the cool kids group now. Later that day, walking to sixth period, she'd run into him-literally. Sneering, he'd pushed her aside with a snarled, "Move!" She stood there in shock, wondering how the sweet boy she'd been friends with had changed into this callous, older guy. She couldn't help but notice that he'd grown taller, had the beginning of muscles across his chest and arms, and a new haircut. From that point on, he'd only spoken to her to insult or yell, pushing her around, stealing her books, and trashing her lunches. Rachel had never figured out what had made him so cruel, and had found new friends, still mourning the loss of his friendship in a corner of her mind.

*****

That night, Hunter sat at a table at Joe's, the on campus bar, drinking a beer and grinning as his friends flirted with some girls playing pool. His buddy Gage sank down into the booth across from him, taking a bite of a burger and a swallow of his own beer. Hunter glanced around, his eyes flickering over the busy bar, even busier seating area; some kids huddled around the jukebox, and a group of girls at the second pool table. His eyes settled on Rachel Durand, bent over the table to take a shot, laughing at something her friend said. Noticing where his gaze landed, Gage grinned.

"She's a fine piece of ass, huh?" Hunter quickly turned to Gage, frowning. "What, you didn't know? We hooked up the other night. She was hot as hell, man. Gave me the best blow job I've ever had." Ignoring the sudden urge to deck his friend in the face, Hunter instead downed the rest of his beer and rose to get another.

When he returned, his friends Rob and Mark had joined Gage, and they were laughing as he approached.

"We heard you were talking about Rachel." announced Rob as Hunter took a seat. He frowned, wondering where this was going.

"Man, you haven't gotten a piece yet?" interjected Mark.

"I don't know why not. She's easy." Added Rob, grinning lasciviously.

Under the table, Hunter hand curled into a fist, but his voice was calm.

"Naw, not yet. Maybe another night. She's probably loose, anyway."

"Nope, she's practically like a virgin, man. You're missing out."

Pushing his chair away from the table, he ignored his friends shouts as he rushed out of the bar, needing fresh air.

What the hell is wrong with me? He wondered, leaning against the side of the building.

His friends had never bothered him when they talked about a girl before. Hell, he'd led the raunchy conversations. So why did he get the sudden urge to slam Rob against the wall?

Rubbing a hand over his face, Hunter returned to the table, ignoring the odd looks his friends shot each other. He started on the unopened beer at his place, listening to their conversation about last night's basketball game.

*****

Rachel grinned as she sunk the eight ball, winning the game.

"Ahhhhh!" shouted Kate, groaning good spiritedly at the loss. Jenna laughed, and started racking up the balls again.

Yawning, Rachel grabbed her bag from a nearby table.

"You're leaving already, Rach?" called Kate from the pool table.

"Yeah. I'm wiped, and I was gonna try to study more tomorrow before we go shopping."

Making a face, Kate waved as Rachel slipped out the door of the warm, noisy bar.

She shivered as the cold air hit her face, hugging her light sweater closer as she quickly crossed the main street of the campus and started on the path that led to her dorm building. She shook off the eerie feeling the path gave her, lights shining in some areas, but casting large parts of the path into deep shadow.

Glancing up at the waning moon, only partially visible through the trees, Rachel's ears picked up a soft noise. Startled, she gasped and stopped dead.

The sound was gone. She started walking again, much faster, trying to convince herself that if there was someone on the path, they were probably just heading in the same direction as her. Shaking her head and speeding her pace more, she tried to ignore the fear that crept at the back of her mind.

*****

Hunter laughed as his friends cheerfully waved, each following a different girl out. He could have easily picked up a girl of his own: God knew there were plenty of them willing. But he wasn't in the mood. None of the girls at the bar tonight were what he wanted . . . Some were too flashy, or too stupid, or too snobby. He chuckled at his own selectiveness, paid his tab, and started for the door. A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he turned to see Rachel Durand heading out another door.