Chapter Thirteen
Rey
“Rough morning?” he asks, not even pretending to hide his focus on the small nation of fries occupying most of my tray.
I glare at him. He just got done saying I needed to stay away from him and, while there are only a few empty seats, I figured he’d rather sit on the ground than across from me. So what’s his deal? Does he suspect that I was in his room? Or is he playing at his own game now?
I dip a fry into my ketchup. “Just trying to get adjusted.”
His eyes—sharp, dark, deliberate—drag over me, from my ballet flats to the edge of my hoodie. When they finally lift to land on mine, the weight of his gaze scorches.
And he hasn’t even sat down yet.
No, he’s choosing to tower over me like a complete jackass.
Everything Aric does is calculated, even the way he watches me. This is a ploy to exert dominance. “From the looks of it,” he murmurs, his lips tipping up in a sexy smirk I itch to smack right off his face, “that might take some time.”
I force my fingers to unclench and casually drop my fry onto the tray, despite the fact that my heart’s ready to hammer out of my chest. It’s almost cruel, how pretty he is.
I shrug, masking my nerves and increasingly rapid heartbeat. I blurt out the first thing I can think of from my perusal of his closet. “I like to hike. Makes me hungry.”
“Hmm,” he says, assessing me with a slight cock of his head. “Same. There are a lot of trails around here, but”—he sets his tray down next to mine as he takes the empty seat—“you don’t seem like the hiking type.”
“That’s borderline insulting.” I grab another fry and shove it into my mouth. “Though not as insulting as what you said earlier.”
He shrugs. “If the hiking shoe fits…”
“So why are you here, Aric?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Didn’t you just tell me to stay the hell away from you?”
He shrugs. “Know thy enemy.”
“Ah,” I say. “Okay, then. So how is your day going, enemy?” I lean in. “Eventful?”
His eyes narrow, and then he completely shuts down. “No. I’ve been reading.”
Liar.
“What’re you reading?” I prod.
“‘The Epic of Gilgamesh.’”
I try to look unimpressed, but admittedly, that’s not what I expected. Although a poem about immortality and doomed gods—an echo of their world—tracks as something he’d be drawn to. “Is that required reading? I haven’t had a chance to look at my syllabus yet, with all the hiking I’ve been doing.”
“Reading should never be required.” He leans back, the fabric of his black T-shirt pulling tight across his chest. His voice drops, and yet again I’m reminded that the sound of it can be as hypnotic as a siren’s call. “It should be for pleasure. Don’t you think?”
His gaze flicks to mine, a slow, deliberate challenge.
I swallow. Hard. But I don’t answer.
“The right book can consume you. Make you forget to eat, to sleep.” A smirk tugs at his lips again. “Make you ache for just one more page even when you know you shouldn’t.” He leans in, close enough that my breath stutters. “It can be temptation itself.”
I keep eating—not because I’m hungry, but because if I look at him any longer, I might do something reckless. The way he said that… It’s not fair.
“Tell me, Rey,” he murmurs, eyes dark and dangerous. “Have you ever been ruined by a story?”
My throat tightens, and I glance away—only to see Ziva waving at me from the trash cans behind him. She dumps her tray with a flourish, taps her chest, and points at me in the universal gesture for need me to come over?
I hope to every God in the Nine Realms she didn’t hear Aric asking if I had ever been ruined.
Aric glances over his shoulder, his eyebrows shooting down. “Hey, Z,” he says, voice flat and cool. Like he’s already bored with whatever history they share.
“Hey, Douche,” she answers, and I choke on a fry.
If Ziva hadn’t already pronounced us best friends earlier, I’d have gotten on bended knee right then and begged to worship her for life.
Aric ignores both of us and picks up his burger, taking a huge bite.
“Catch you later, Rey.” Ziva tosses me a wink before heading out of the dining hall.
“I see you make friends as well as I do,” I say, breaking the silence.
“Apparently not,” he says. “She likes you.”
I shrug and snag the ketchup bottle from the caddy of condiments. “You’re being nice. Why?”
“Don’t get used to it.” He grins, and this time it’s pure malice. “I don’t want to be anywhere near you. But at the same time, I find myself unable to stay away until I can figure out why you’re really here. I know you don’t give a shit about anything, least of all your education.”
I force a polite smile. “Who says I don’t give a shit?”
“I do.” He makes a fist on the table. “You only learn what he tells you to. Everyone knows it. So what is it? What’s the reason this place suddenly matters to the Stjernes?”
“You’re paranoid.”
“This school is my family’s legacy. The only thing not tainted by your family.” He looks down. “And I won’t let you poison it.”
A shiver runs along my spine, and I reach for another fry. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to intimidate me or seduce me.”
“You’re pretty,” he says, standing. “But the prettiest toys always come with teeth.”
“So I’m both a toy and pretty?” I bat my lashes at him. Jackass.
He raises his arms above his head like he’s frustrated, giving me a view of his abs before he turns and walks away.
I refuse to be affected by muscle. That would be ridiculous and weak. Just because my mouth went completely dry, that’s not my fault. It’s the weather.
So he likes working out.
Maybe hiking.
Hates me but is drawn to me.
I push back my chair and stand. I guess I’m about to find out how well he plays with others.