Good Luck Charm

Chapter 1: When I Saw Him-1

Chapter 1: When I Saw HimPeople didn’t realize it to look at me, but I had a lot of hate bottled up inside.

I hated my parents for their constant quarreling and the way they did nothing to stop their creepy friends from looking at me. I hated the town where I’d grown up—it was miserable and rundown, and nothing good ever happened there. The men drank, beat their kids, and cheated on their wives, the women did the same, and the kids had nothing to look forward to but repeating the cycle.

Not me, though. I intended to get the hell out of there as soon as I could, in spite of how my sisters’ bickering interfered with my studies.

I loved those. They were my way out of Caryville, and to that end I studied hard, easily absorbing what my teachers taught because of my photographic memory. At the age of eleven, I discovered astronomy, physics, and chemistry and found I was fascinated by them, so it made sense for me to pursue them in university, and when I graduated, it was with a major in chemistry and minors in astronomy and physics. By the time I was twenty-three, I had obtained masters in each of them, and was well on my way to a doctorate in astrophysics.

The only thing that meant more to me than my education was the career for which that education was preparing me. To that end, I blocked out everything else, including relationships, which was a good thing, since people didn’t seem to realize getting out of the little town I’d grown up in was the only way I could survive.

* * * *

I sat in the front row of Altman Hall, center seat. I always did. In that way, the instructor saw me taking notes, looking thoughtful, nodding in agreement with his statements, even if, as was generally the case, they were less than profound.

This class, Biological Anthropology, was something I was taking because I found it extremely interesting. And besides, I had nothing better to do on Wednesday evenings.

There was a message scrawled across the whiteboard. Professor Hewlett has been called away. A substitute instructor will take over his class tonight.

I was relieved. Lately, Professor Hewlett had taken to staring at me in a way that tended to make me…well, if I were to tell the truth…a little uncomfortable.

The substitute instructor was running late, and there were murmurs of impatience as well as a spitball fight—so juvenile—until he finally walked in, and then the disgruntled murmurs turned to pleasure as he was recognized.

“Dr. Fairfax!”

“It’s Dr. Fairfax!”

“Talk about luck!”

“This lecture is going to be way better than anything old Hewlett could offer!”

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. As you can no doubt tell, I am not Professor Hewlett.”

The class chuckled in appreciation of his drollery, and he grinned and winked.

And my heart lurched. I’d never had a reaction like that to anyone, male or female, and I was startled to realize I was fascinated by what I saw, by the brown hair and warm brown eyes, by the way the shirt the man wore seemed to cling to the torso it covered, the way the open collar revealed the strong lines of his throat, the way his trousers—

I swallowed and forced my attention to Dr. Fairfax’s lips, further enthralled by their movement. It took a moment for me to get myself under control, to pay attention to what he was saying.

“My name, as some of you already know, is Peter Fairfax.” His gaze wandered over the students in the lecture hall. “I have no idea why I was chosen to replace Professor Hewlett tonight. I’m a pediatric medical oncologist, not an anthropologist of any sort.” That brought more appreciative chuckles. “However, I’ll do my best not to let down the good Professor and this prestigious university. By the end of this lecture, I hope you’ll leave having learned something.”

To my surprise, the doctor’s gaze kept drifting back toward…me? The first time that happened, I looked over my shoulder, but there was no one behind me. Could he like what he saw, too?

Dr. Fairfax’s lecture was interesting, much more so than any of Professor Hewlett’s dry-as-dust, droning discourses, and I hung, not on his every word, but on each movement of his lips. I found myself running my tongue over my own lips, wondering what his might taste like.

Afterward, I remained by my seat, hoping there might be a possibility that I could speak to him, but it seemed everyone else in the hall had the same intention. He had a few words for each one, and the only reason I continued to linger was because he would smile each time he looked toward me and saw I was still there.

So I waited, and finally my patience was rewarded; it was my turn. My mouth was suddenly dry, and it was all I could do to croak out, “Hello.” I pointed to the ID on my chest. “Jacob Forrest.”

“Hello there, Jacob Forrest,” he murmured, his eyes running over my body in an almost palpable caress. “I couldn’t help noticing you.”

“You couldn’t?” Was that breathless voice mine? A hasty glance around showed me the hall had emptied of all the students. Yes, it had to be mine.

“That surprises you?”

“Ye…yes, Dr. Fairfax.”

“Call me Peter.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”

“Please.” He said it so charmingly; how could I refuse?

I cleared my throat and conceded. “Peter. I…er…I had to tell you how fascinating I found your lecture.” I wanted to beat my head against the wall. Everyone had said that.

“Thank you.” From the look on his face, he didn’t seem to feel I was being pedantic; and best of all he didn’t start putting together the papers scattered on the desk, a sure signal that he was impatient to get away. Instead, he propped his hip against it, for all the world as if he was more than willing to spend time with me. “I spoke from Professor Hewlett’s notes. The request that I fill in for him was on very short notice, you see.” He ran his gaze over my body again. “A very lucky happenstance for me.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I ignored it and simply said, “You did better with his notes than he could. Somehow he always comes across as incoherent.”

“You’re very outspoken for an undergrad—”

I opened my mouth to correct his assumption, but he continued speaking.

“—and I’m glad to see you haven’t let Hewlett influence you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

He grinned broadly. “You think for yourself. I like that.”

My chest swelled with pride at his words, although if I’d been thinking more clearly I might have been offended. I never let anyone influence me, unless I had something to gain from it.

“I was hoping you were more than just an attractive face.”

Whatever I was going to say flew out of my head. If he’d said I was handsome, I’d have scoffed and walked away. Well…perhaps I might have lingered anyway, but I definitely would have scoffed. I had a mirror, and it told me well enough that my looks were what he labeled them—attractive—and nothing more. But I liked that he was honest with me about this.

“Th-thank you.” I was startled to feel his fingers in a strand of hair that had somehow escaped from behind my ear, and then suddenly my hair was freed of the tie that held it back, and it spilled over my forehead and around my face. I was shocked to see the tie dangling from his fingers.

“You have wonderful hair.” He rubbed the strands between his fingers.

“I…I do?” No one had ever complimented my hair—well, no one had complimented anything about me.

“Yes. Wavy. Soft. Gorgeous blond highlights that are impossible to see when you wear it scraped back. You should always wear it loose.”

I made a silent vow to never tie my hair back again.

“You look very…”

“Yes?” I shouldn’t fish for compliments, but no one had ever flirted with me before, had ever said such things.

“…very…”

Very what? Rousing? Fascinating?…Uninteresting? But then his hungry grin told me that last had to be wrong.

“…very this way.”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t get a word past my lips.

“Should I not have said that?” His smile became charmingly rueful. “Well, perhaps not.”

“It isn’t true then?”

“Oh, it’s true all right. You look as if a lover has just finished having…his…way with you.”

How could he know what I myself had realized only a number of years before, that I preferred boys to girls? I’d been appalled and had tucked that knowledge away at the back of my mind, determined to say nothing to anyone. Not that there had been anyone to say anything to.

My mother had warned my sisters when they were old enough to begin showing interest in the local boys. “They won’t buy the cow if you give the milk away free. Remember the words of the revered Ann Landers. Or was it her sister, Dear Abby?” A religion had actually grown up around the two twentieth-century advice columnists, and of course Mama was a fervent follower. “No matter, just remember: When I saw him, I loved him. When I loved him, I let him. When I let him, I lost him. So make sure you don’t let him!”

“Him, who, Mama?” the oldest of my sisters asked.

“Him anyone, missy. Don’t you sass me.”

“No, ma’am.”

She hadn’t seen fit to warn me. As a male of the species, I was one of the ones to be warned against.

“Look, I have a dinner engagement—” Dr. Fairfax’s words jerked me back to the present, and my heart sank, but truthfully, what else had I expected?

“You have to go. I understand.” I started to turn away to power down my notebook.

“I wouldn’t mind getting out of it. Jacob.” My name had never sounded like that on anyone’s lips before, and I started to melt inside. “Have dinner with me.”

“You…you want to spend time with me?” My voice cracked.

“Yes.” A slow, sensuous grin curled his lips. “Do you find that surprising?”

Truthfully, I did. I wasn’t what was referred to as a people person. Mostly I found that they were stupid and idiotic and not worth the time it took to get to know them, so I’d never bothered.

Dr. Fairfax, though—I’d like to get to know him.

“Is there someplace we can go?”

“There’s Canadia Tavern, which isn’t too far from here. They…uh…they serve Greco-Italian food.”

“I’m not in the mood for Italian. Or Greek. Unless…” He ran his tongue over his lips. “…you’re Italian. Or Greek?”

“No, I’m of Irish extraction,” I said, completely serious.

His lips curved slightly, and his eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Oh!” Hot color rushed into my cheeks. I was hopelessly inept at flirting—no one had ever flirted with me before. My shoulders slumped, and I started to turn away.

“Am I moving too fast?” He drew me back and ran his fingertips over my cheek. “I’m American, you see. Em—that is, a friend tells me I have a tendency to do that.”

“Oh, no. Not…” I was helpless to look away from his eyes. “Not fast at all. I…I have—”

“Someplace where we can go?” His expression was pleading with me to say yes.

I had to say no, and I sighed. “That is, I do, but I…I have a roommate.”

“And we won’t be able to persuade him to make other sleeping arrangements for tonight? Or is it a her?”

“He’s a he.” I gave him a wistful smile. “And I’m afraid not. He’s very…rigid.”

Peter’s eyebrow rose, and I felt a slow flush rise to my hairline.

That hadn’t come out right. “What I meant was…I meant he…uh…”

“Let me guess. He doesn’t drink or smoke, and I suppose he doesn’t approve of…boys playing with boys?”

“Not only does he refuse to concede such a thing is even possible, but he doesn’t approve of boys playing with girls, either. Not outside of marriage, anyway.”

Rolf was even less of a people person than I was. His beliefs were very inflexible, and he had gone through a number of roommates. For some reason, someone in the university’s housing department came to the conclusion that I disapproved of premarital s*x as well and for that reason would prove to be the perfect roommate for him. They’d put us together.