Chapter 9
NINE
I just barely contain my eye roll as the rest of the physics faculty hums their agreement and tosses her praise for being so organized and fucking perky about this student conference. Anyone can book a fucking room. Do we really need a circle jerk around the table for it?
“That sounds wonderful, Annika,” Omar says, the department head’s gentle smile never faltering.
“So our undergraduate honours students will present in the morning, and we’ll have graduate students in the afternoon.
” He scans everyone sitting around the table.
“Dana, Lynn, Russell—your students have already submitted their titles…” Then his gaze lands on me. “Is Spencer presenting?”
Redundant fucking question, since it’s mandatory.
But I bite my tongue. “Yes,” I say.
Annika glances down at her notes, then looks up at me expectantly. “He hasn’t submitted his title yet.”
I nod once. “Considering the deadline is this afternoon, I think we’ll be ok.”
Her gaze flits to Omar, who nods slowly.
“He needs to have it in by the end of the day,” he says.
“He can tell time,” I say, fully aware I’m speaking to my department head, but too annoyed to care. “We didn’t make it this far without an understanding of deadlines.”
Luckily, Omar just shoots me a warning look, but I’m sure I’ll hear about this later.
He drops his gaze back to his notes and keeps steering this meeting through its unnecessary paces, while I die a little more inside…
which I didn’t think was possible at this point.
The weed I smoked before walking in here is doing jack shit to help me get through this, and all I can think about is how fast I can get a glass of something that burns on the way down.
As he drones on about reallocating TA hours, movement through the glass wall of the conference room snags my attention. I look up, and my eyes land on leather and tattoos.
He moves like he owns the hallway, easy and unhurried, like he has nowhere better to be, and this building exists just for him to pass through it. His eyes lock on me through the glass wall as he drops onto the bench outside the room, arms stretched across the back like he’s claimed his throne.
The table suddenly goes quiet as nervous glances flick towards the glass, then to me.
Russell leans in, lowering his voice as if the biker could hear him. “Are you ok, Cade? Do you… need help?”
I stare back at him, then sweep my gaze across the table. They all look worried and nervous as their eyes dart between me and the Basin Kings’ Vice President, like I’m being stalked by a predator.
Maybe I am.
“Help with what, Russell?” I ask. “Making it through the rest of this meeting? Probably.” Then I meet Omar’s gaze, and I don’t even feel bad about that shot.
He’s staring at me like he expects me to suddenly combust under the weight of a biker’s attention.
I wave a hand at him to continue, so we can finally get this meeting over with.
He hesitates as his gaze flicks to the man sitting in the hallway like a loaded gun… calm, still, and dangerous. But then he drops his eyes back to his agenda and clears his throat. “Departmental travel reimbursements…”
But even through all of this, those eyes never move. Not even once.
That dark, unblinking stare stays locked on me, and I can’t ignore the tingle that runs up my spine, like he’s flipped some hidden switch.
Omar continues to drone on about useless shit, but my attention now belongs to the man watching me through the glass. And from this distance, I can really look at him.
The tattoos that crawl up his neck and coil around his knuckles in thick lines of ink speak more of power than art.
They mirror the quiet control in the way he’s sprawled out now—composed and confident, and a man with nothing to prove, even with every eye on him.
There’s a subtle but unmistakable flicker of amusement in his gaze, and a quiet challenge in the way he holds himself, completely unbothered by the tension he’s stirring through the glass.
He looks like something I should fear. Like everyone else at this table does.
But I don’t fear him.
I welcome it. I need it.
And the longer he watches me, like he’s deciding how best to ruin me… the more I want to let him. And the more I want to get the fuck out of this meeting.
“We’ll meet again next month before finals,” Omar says, finally wrapping up. “And I’ll see you all Tuesday at the conference.”
Everyone stands, but the tension only grows. All eyes shift to me again, and no one moves towards the door.
“Cade,” Annika says gently, stepping closer to me with an expression like she’s fighting for her life not to look out into the hall. “He’s… he’s from the Basin Kings…”
I huff as I stare down at her, annoyed that she’s blocking my way to the door. Like she’s going to what… protect me?
“Very observant,” I say.
Dana steps forward as well. “He was here yesterday,” he says in a hushed voice. “He was looking for you.”
I nod. “Looks like he found me.”
I don’t give them time to respond or show any more concern. I step around Annika, open the door, and let the murmuring fade behind me.
Biker guy stands as I step into the hall, and his gaze rakes up my body before he meets my eyes. Then he turns his attention to the faculty slowly filing out of the room behind me, giving each one a piercing, unblinking, fuck-you stare that sends Lynn scurrying past like she might faint.
And I smile.
His gaze returns to mine, and immediately fills with a possessive, smouldering heat.
“Holding office hours, Dr. Cormier?” he asks.
I keep my face neutral, even though that look hits like the shot I’ve been craving. I just turn and head towards my office, the steady, unhurried sound of his boots following me like he’s giving me a head start just to let me believe I still have a choice.
As I step inside my office, my heart thumps a bit harder as I hear the door click shut behind us.
I head for my desk and drop my empty, pretend-I-give-a-shit notebook on it, then turn to watch him as he slowly steps farther into the room.
He scans the wall where my degrees hang, carefully looking over each one.
“It’s been a long night,” he says casually, as if I asked, as he closely observes my doctorate degree from the University of Toronto.
“And a long morning. The Mounties are eager little fuckers and showed up early, so I had to spend some time face down in gravel with my hands behind my back, but…” he turns to face me with an easy shrug, “not the worst way to start a day.”
I huff out a breath and sit on the edge of my desk. He talks about being in handcuffs like it’s a casual inconvenience… and I know I’m not supposed to like the way he makes it sound so normal.
As he steps towards me, I’m suddenly very aware that we’ve slipped back into the same position we were in yesterday when he showed up to my class—him standing in front of me, me perched on the edge of the desk, and his gaze sweeping over me while I sit still and let him take only what I choose to give.
He steps closer, and I resist the pull to look down the length of him.
“But I couldn’t stop thinking about that barrier I need to cross,” he says in a low voice.
My pulse picks up, and my breathing quickens as I grip the edge of the desk tighter. But I keep my expression neutral as I just stare back at him.
He smiles and tilts his head. “What do you say, Cade…” He steps into my space, lifts a hand, and runs it slowly up my neck.
His palm curves over my jaw, and his thumb drags firmly over my bottom lip.
“I saw how bored you were in there,” he says.
“How those people sucked the air out of the room and left you hollow and craving something real. Something with teeth that might actually leave a mark…”
I lift my chin, pushing against his grip on me. “Then bite.”
He releases my chin and slides his hand into my hair, pulling hard to tip my head back and expose my neck.
I pull in a sharp breath as electricity surges down my spine, lighting up nerves I didn’t even know I had. It’s all heat and friction and focus, and the sound of footsteps and voices outside my door fades until the only thing that matters is where he touches me.
He doesn’t belong here, in this space… not among the degrees and schedules and academic bullshit. But then again, I’ve never really belonged here either… not in the way I’m expected to.
And with him here, that truth feels less like a flaw and more like an inevitability.
His eyes slowly trail up my neck, then meet my eyes, like he’s savouring every inch of distance I’ve opened for him. He tilts his head slightly as his eyes flash with need, making me wait… like he’s reminding me who’s in control.
But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m surrendering anything.
I reach up and grab the front of his shirt, pulling him in until our faces are inches apart.
“Don’t make me ask again.”