Chapter 4
Chapter four
Sawyer
Ibite the inside of my cheek until a metallic burst hits my tongue, though I don’t feel the pain that should be associated with it.
If anything, I’d welcome the pain.
I need the distraction to keep myself from breaking down.
Walking through the lecture hall door with Tytus’s heavy arm slung around my neck is both awkward and annoying.
His show of possession is over-the-top. I’d shake him off if I could. There’s nothing affectionate, kind, or welcome about his hold.
He’s making a point.
A loud, repugnant point.
With my eyes cast down, I place one foot in front of the other.
When soft murmurs carry through the room, my chest tightens. Are they whispering about us?
It’s no secret that Ty and I are close. That was made clear during the altercation on the very first day.
I’ve established enough rapport with the students that I don’t think they’ll judge me too harshly for walking through the lecture hall doors with a student’s arm around me. Half of them probably won’t even glance up from their phones.
The only person I truly care about in this scenario is the man whose gaze I’m avoiding like the plague.
I can feel his attention on me, calculating and shrewd.
He’s probably confused. Caught off guard. I don’t dare even look up at him. If I do, I’m afraid I’ll burst into tears.
The whole journey down here from the dean’s office, I racked my brain for a solution. I considered sending Mercer a quick email or shooting off a text.
But there was no way to hide the move from Tytus.
Now we’re here, and class is set to start. I’ll have to suffer through the entire period without giving Mercer an explanation.
I don’t even know how to begin to explain any of this.
He knew I was meeting with the dean, and he knew I was concerned. But there’s no way he could suspect what happened, because I never could have imagined what’s transpired over the last thirty minutes.
“Sit down.” Tytus releases me and nods to the seat in the front row where I typically sit.
My hackles rise. I don’t know what he’s playing at or why he suddenly thinks he’s calling the shots.
Tone even but quiet, I say, “I need to check in with Professor Eden first.”
Dark eyes narrowed, he looks from me to the professor and back again.
When he breaks into a devil-may-care grin, I know for certain that Mercer is watching us.
With one brow arched, Ty drifts closer. He lowers his head so he can look me in the eye. When I try to turn away, he captures my chin with one finger and delicately redirects my focus. “If you don’t take a seat, I’m going to pull you into my fucking lap. Your pick.”
He sets my bag on the ground without waiting for a response, then takes his seat.
“Ms. Davvies,” Mercer calls out from the front of the room. His tone is clipped and authoritative. He expects me to approach.
But if I do, I have no doubt that Ty will make good on his promise.
Slamming down all the walls around my heart and my consciousness, I steel myself for the emotional damage that will pummel me the moment we lock eyes. Then I finally lift my head to acknowledge the man at the front of the room.
His dark brown eyes bore into me, silently begging for a clue as to what’s going on.
A storm of emotion swirls between us.
With a shuddering exhale, I give him the slightest shake of my head and send off a silent prayer.
Please let him get the message.
I’m certain I couldn’t keep it together if Mercer pushed.
In his current state, Tytus would dive in headfirst and escalate the situation quickly.
If the two of them can keep their cool until after class, then I can get Mercer alone and explain to him exactly what’s going on.
Thankfully, he reads me well enough.
With a dip of his chin, he says, “It can wait. Please take your seat so class can begin.”
As I lower into the seat, I breathe the deepest sigh of relief.
I’m barely situated before Ty clutches the back of my chair and loudly drags it closer to his.
I close my eyes tight, and when I open them again, I keep my head down. I don’t look back up at Mercer for the entirety of class.