36. Kai
Chapter 36
Kai
Ezra would pitch a fit if I got to the social committee meeting reeking of booze or weed, so I throw on enough cologne for it to soak into the sorority’s hardwood floors. Then I take a gulp from the bottle of J?ger on my nightstand and slip a freshly rolled joint in my pocket for the walk over.
It should only take five minutes, but I stretch it to ten. Awesome night for a stroll, anyway. There’s a hint of ozone in the air. Moisture and raw earth. Clouds skate over the stars, ghostly against the deep purple sky.
I had an epic day, despite my hangover.
Best part? Haven was nowhere to be found.
Bet she finally slunk home, tail between her legs.
Fucking skank.
Almost wish she’d challenged me for another round of ‘will he, won’t he.’ I lay in bed last night, trashed out of my mind, but still wide awake, my hand flexing at my side, then wrapping around my cock. Stroking it as forcefully as I’d held her onto throat.
Jesus, I came so hard it felt like I was leaving my body.
Even now, just thinking about her, my cock is waking up.
“Sorry, buddy. Time to find you a new plaything…” I stop walking. “What. The. Fuck?”
I’m too high for this shit.
Weed doesn’t make you hallucinate. But this, what I’m seeing? It can’t be real.
Rooke’s Tesla parked outside the GAZ house isn’t out of the ordinary. He sometimes gets involved in social things. It’s the Land Rover that pulls up beside his car that I’m staring at.
Because I swear to fucking God, when the interior light comes on, I swear it’s Haven behind the wheel.
But that’s fucked up, because at the diner she was getting into a shitty sedan from the early nineties held together with duct tape and prayers, not a Land Rover.
Also, she shouldn’t even be here.
I mean, fuck it, I almost strangled her to death.
I’m close enough for her to look over my way and see me, so I flatten myself against the side of the GAZ house, trying to become one with the shadows.
The door opens, and Haven hops out, her mousy brown hair bobbing on her shoulders. It’s wild, like she was rolling around on someone’s bed. And her dress is creased, which just kinda cements the whole fucking scenario in my mind.
I hear the odd word as she walks around the front of the car to speak to someone.
“…driving…keep up…crashed into…”
Professor Rooke appears.
I plow through a row of cute little flowers as I inch along the wall, trying to get closer.
“…make me regret this,” he says.
There’s a fucking bougainvillea in my way, but I part just enough leaves so I can see the two of them through it. Haven is holding out something to Rooke, but he pushes her hand away, closing her fingers over whatever she was offering.
The jolt of fury that hits me is almost physical. I tear out a handful of leaves as my hand clenches.
“Here you are! I thought you’d driven off a cliff.” Melissa bounces down the steps of the GAZ house, and Rooke quickly takes his hand off of Haven’s. She lowers hers a little slower, frowning at him as he turns to Melissa.
I have to force air back into my lungs.
Nuh-uh. I’m way too high for this shit.
That touch was intimate. I could see …
Fuck this shit.
I step around the shrub and onto the curb, coming up behind Haven and Rooke. Haven’s the first to spot me, glancing over her shoulder and then giving me a stunned double-take.
“…almost did, but it looked like she got it under control at the last minute,” Bastian’s saying, but Haven’s eyes are locked to mine. “Didn’t you, Miss Lee? Miss Lee?”
She blinks, shaking her head like she’s coming out of a trance. “Y-Yes, Professor, Sir. Um…”
“Hey, Parker, did Ezra get the time wrong or something? I thought we had that meeting now?” I ask as I step up beside them.
Rooke, to his credit, barely flinches when he sees me. But he’s pretty fucking quick to take a step away from Haven, increasing the distance between them.
Ah, teach. Didn’t have to do that on my account. I don’t care who you fuck. You could do better, though.
Melissa sends me a cool glance. “It’s tonight. Just getting Haven settled in. Go inside so long. Everyone’s waiting.”
She sounds like she’s reading a fucking telegram. I keep expecting her to say, “stop,” at the end of every sentence. Lord knows why Ezra thought this chick was bangable. She’s way too fucking high maintenance for someone as detached as a psychopath.
I saunter past as slow as I can, straining for any last words from either of them.
Haven’s settling in? What does that even?—
“Wait…I’m moving in tonight?” Haven squeaks like the little mouse she is. “But all my stuff is back at—I mean, in my car. My other car.”
“It’s in the Land Rover,” Rooke says.
How the fuck does he know where her stuff is?
“Oh. Right.”
I glance back in time to see Haven slide a hand behind her neck.
Her smooth, pale, unmarked neck.
I almost walk into one of the fucking pillars supporting the porch roof.
Where the fuck is my hand necklace?
I know I fucking left one. It was already blooming on her skin when I left her there on the grass, legs spread where I’d been fingering her.
Jesus. Unless…did that shit actually happen?
I know I went to class. I can clearly remember Bastian saying he was running late, and then keeping his class occupied. How devastated Haven looked when I read that thing about her car.
But now, seeing her standing there by Melissa and Rooke, a little wild and untamed, but perfectly unhurt…I’m doubting my own fucking sanity.
She looks up, our eyes meeting.
And her hand slides from the back of her neck to the front. She traces her fingers over her skin, her lips parting. Then she licks her lips and looks away, facing Rooke with almost steely determination, eyes wide like she’s forcing herself to pay attention to what he’s saying.
It happened.
She’s covered it up, but it fucking happened.
A manic laugh shoots past my lips before I clamp my jaw closed. I drag my fingers through my hair as I head for the GAZ dining room. There are voices up ahead, some masculine, most feminine. The others are already here.
I’m the only one who’s late.
Me…and Haven.
When I turn to take my seat, ignoring a girl who turns to wrinkle her nose at me, and I see Haven walking in behind Melissa, I fall more than sit in the French-upholstered chair.
She gives me a nervous little glance, and pulls out a chair beside Melissa, keeping her eyes averted.
I cross my arms over my chest, kick my chair onto its back legs, and rock.
The guy sitting next to me leans closer, turning so his back to the rest of the table. “Dude, that reefer I smell?”
Guy’s got the nose of a narco dog. I cock an eyebrow at him. “And?” I think he’s from the frat next door to ours. They’re mostly jocks and party animals.
He glances away. “Wanna light up after?”
I grin. “Yeah, sure.”
My gaze flicks back to Haven. She’s staring at the head of GAZ, a brunette with extensions, fake nails, and fake tits.
But as if feeling my eyes on her, she gives me another nervous glance.
I can see her throat move as she swallows.
Yeah, Little Miss Heavenly.
Rooke can’t protect you now.
It’s just me and you.