Part 9
Lisa couldn't sleep.
Her brain was going a mile-a-minute with worry over a physics exam she had on Monday. She was desperately afraid she was going to fail. It was the one class she was really struggling with and her confidence was rapidly eroding with each tick of the clock on her bedside table.
Lisa looked at it. It was just after 3 a.m.
In the bed on the other side of the room, her roommate Melissa, who'd come in twenty minutes earlier, was sleeping the sleep of the woefully inebriated. And snoring. Which was not helping Lisa's situation.
It was damned annoying and growing more so by the second to the point that Lisa was pretty sure that even if she had felt sleepy, she wouldn't be able to tune out the log-sawing long enough to actually fall asleep.
After five more minutes, Lisa decided she'd had enough. She had to do something or she was going to go mad. Or murder Melissa. Or both.
Rising, Lisa fumbled around in the dark and dressed for a cool-night run. It was crazy to think about much less do. It was the middle of the night, on a college campus, with lots of shadows and bushes to hide behind. There might be some nut out there with a knife or gun or some other kind of weapon waiting for a naive victim of opportunity. And she was practically serving herself up as bait, even though she knew better than to take risks with her life.
That's why she grabbed her car keys on the way out and arranged them neatly between her fingers and palmed the decorative fob, the way her mother had once showed her.
"Aim for the eyes, stomach or groin," her mother had said, "It might not kill them. But you'll make your mark and send them to the emergency room."
And she was right.
With her makeshift weapon of choice, Lisa slipped out of the room and made her way out of the building. In the empty courtyard, she took a few minutes to stretch out her legs to avoid cramping up while out. She might as well go ahead and call a killer direct if that happened.
Lisa was midway through stretching her right hamstring when she was illuminated by headlights. She looked over to see a car pulling into the lot. Just to be safe, she casually stopped her stretches and picked up her keys from the bench, where she'd temporarily set them. She quickly arranged them as she had before and watched, her pulse picking up, as the vehicle parked in one of the temporary spaces in front of the building.
She sighed in relief when she recognized the passenger as one of the other girls from her floor. And seeing that she was now sucking face with the driver.
Envy swamped Lisa. She wished it was her and Greg House making out.
Despite both of them having declared an interest in one another a month earlier, sitting together in class three days a week, and meeting up for coffee and conversation almost every other day at Percolate, he'd yet to make a move.
Lisa wasn't disappointed, per se, she was enjoying their interactions. She felt like she was getting to know him better. But she was definitely growing frustrated. Especially since the only remotely intimate physical contact he'd made so far was casually laying his arm across the back of her chair during class.
He'd done that for the first time three days ago and she'd about lost it. Her insides had fluttered wildly, gooseflesh had risen over her entire body and she'd shivered with it. It'd taken every ounce of willpower she possessed to stop herself from jumping him right then and there. He, on the other hand, had just given her a smoldering look and infuriately smug smile.
The thought that he was just toying with her had crossed her mind and it'd been disconcerting to consider because her attraction to him wasn't just physical any more. She was really starting to like him in other ways. Especially how he talked to her, like an equal. His very existence challenged a lot of her perceptions of medicine, and life in general. His intelligence was an undeniable aphrodisiac for her. He was a walking encyclopedia of everything — including pop culture. She suspected his IQ might even be off the charts. It was flattering to know that a man that smart would be interested in her at all.
But Lisa wanted more than talk, stimulating as that was. She'd been having dreams about him. With kisses and touching and full-on sex. Of course, something always woke her before the grand finale, which was only adding to her frustration.
She definitely had it bad for the man she'd taken to calling House. Just like he called her Cuddy. It was odd to call each other by surnames, but it worked for some reason. She wondered what he'd call her during sex, If he'd say her first name or call her "baby."
God, I want to find out, Lisa groaned inwardly then sighed heavily. She thought maybe the run would help alleviate her worries and physical frustration, as well as her obsessive concerns about the physics exam.
But there was only one way to find out: Hit the bricks.
Lisa did that, heading out of the courtyard at a light jog only to stop at the corner when a familiar motorcycle zoomed up and stopped beside her.
Lisa smiled reflexively at the rider, at House. Her pulse picked up pace again, when his intelligent gaze raked over her. His presence and that look told her he wasn't jerking her around. And that did things to her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
He answered her question with a smile.
"Thought I'd save you from insomnia."
