45. Haven
Chapter 45
Haven
I shouldn’t be nervous. Why am I nervous? It’s just lunch. Lunch at a damn taco stand.
With my professor.
Who I’m crushing on so hard it hurts.
But that’s why I’m doing this.
I thought about it long and hard after our DMs this morning.
Sliding over that line is getting easier and easier. What will happen if one of us just does something wholly inappropriate? Something we can’t take back?
We’ll both be stuck with the repercussions of that deed for the rest of my college years at AHC.
Maybe I’m overthinking this. God knows where I get the bandwidth, though. I spent the entire morning trying to get back on schedule with my studies. I’m mostly caught up on Professor Rooke’s course, but I’ve fallen really far behind on my Social Work and Urban Study classes.
Thankfully, neither subject is really complicated. And I’m finding the research fascinating, especially the section in my Social Work material about how a person’s surroundings affect their behavior and development.
Then I got to the Social Work assignment. It’s due in a couple of weeks, right before the midterms.
Now the knot in my stomach has nothing to do with Professor Rooke.
That assignment included a case study on the Smith family. This make-believe family lives in some fictional shanty town in some imaginary state. They’re dealing with issues like poverty, substance abuse, and domestic violence.
It might as well have been a blow-by-blow of my entire childhood.
I huff out a laugh as I pull into a parking spot inside the small strip mall just off Hollow Way. It’s only a short walk from here to the diner, and was one place I used to park my car overnight until I discovered Lookout Point.
I’m early.
And too nervous to wait in the car.
I climb out of the Land Rover, straightening my faded jeans and button up blouse. It’s old-fashioned, what with its pastel pink and green floral fabric, but it’s one of the nicer things I own.
I’m already heading for the taco stand before I clap a hand over my ass pocket of my jeans.
Shit, my money.
Time to get a wallet. But that will have to wait until I find the money for a pair of sturdy sandals to replace my disintegrating flip-flops.
I lean into the car, scraping my AHC tote bag toward me over the seat and rummaging around for my money.
Where the hell…?
I upend the tote on the driver’s seat, pawing through everything that falls out. A backpack might be a good idea, too. Something with pockets.
Oh. Right. Maybe Bastian saw the money and put it in the Land Rover’s console or something. I look around, see a notch in the plastic molding, and shove my hand in there.
“At least your punctuality has improved since you started college,” Bastian says behind me.
I jerk my hand out of the console, but it’s not because he gave me fright.
It’s because I stuck my hand into something wet and sticky and gross. It could be some kind of sixth sense thing, but as soon as I touch it, I know that it’s cum.
And I know it belongs to Kai.
That motherfucking psycho was in my car.
Bastian’s car.
The car Professor Rooke loaned me.
I spin around, shoving my hand into my back pocket and trying to wriggle it around in there to get all the cum off my fingers.
“Hi. Uh. Yeah. But, uh, you’re punctual also, so, uh, there’s that.” What the hell am I babbling about?
Professor Rooke lets out a dry chuckle, his hand going into his back pocket too.
Fuck me, he looks good. Light wash jeans, ripped at both knees. White sneakers and an olive green t-shirt made from such lightweight fabric, it drapes every muscle on his just-athletic-enough frame in just the right way.
And here I am in my granny blouse, my flip-flops one flop away from flipping off.
But Bastian doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he hasn’t even looked at my clothes. He’s been looking into my eyes with the same frank stare he always has around me.
Around everyone, I guess. I really have to stop thinking I’m different.
But I guess that’s what I’m trying to find out, isn’t it?
All this stuff he’s doing for me feels like way too much. But maybe that’s just who he is. If I had his kind of money, I’d be generous with it too. But my time? My attention? Maybe not so much.
Could be different for a teacher, though. His job is to care.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ordering nachos and at least six tacos. You’re hungry too, right?”
My laugh sounds forced, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. He turns to the taco stand on the other side of the parking lot, beckoning me to follow when I hang back.
“Um…listen…before we…”
He stops walking, frowning at me. “Is something wrong, Miss Lee?”
Yes.
I’m fucking broke as fuck.
Which isn’t new for me, but puts me in a sticky— fuck you, Kai —position.
I reluctantly mumble, “I kinda lost all my money.”
Hadn’t meant to say, ‘all’. Hadn’t meant to sound so defeated. But it wasn’t enough for Kai to jizz all over me last night, he had to do it in my car too?
Bastian’s car.
Like he was marking his territory or something?
…did you fuck him?
So I’m reeling. Furious. And trying so desperately hard not to show it, all that comes through is the desperation.
“Did it fall out of your purse?” Bastian’s frown is deeper now, his mouth in a line. Is he pissed because I told him I was going to pay and now I can’t? Or because I lost my money?
Aw, that’s adorable, he thinks I own a purse.
I should rat out Kai. Why the fuck am I trying to protect his sorry ass, anyway? Maybe if Professor Rooke knew what he was doing to me, he’d?—
“Must have, yeah. Look, I’m really sorry. If you want to leave?—“
His laugh cuts me off. “You’re in luck, Miss Lee. I just upped the limit on my credit card, so I’ll pay for all three nachos and seventeen tacos…and whatever you’re having.”
It should have been condescending. I almost wish it had been. Would have made setting boundaries a hell of a lot easier. But his laugh is too easy, the twinkle in his eye too genuine, and despite vowing vengeance on Kai and still trying to get my fingers clean, I’m giggling .
Milo, the cute guy at the taco stand, recognizes me as soon as I walk up, giving me a wide smile. “Back for more, huh?”
“If you mean the best tacos in town, then yeah.”
“Of course.” He grins. Glances up at the gray clouds building overhead. “Looks like we’re finally getting some rain tonight. Cool things off a bit, yeah?”
I giggle, because he’s got the dopiest grin and the silliest small talk.
Bastian bumps into my arm, tearing my attention away from the server. “I’ll have whatever she’s having, and throw in some nachos and a michelada too, please.” Bastian turns to me, shrugs. “Can’t have nachos without beer.”
I glance at Milo, but he’s checking out Bastian like he wants to punch the guy. Which makes no sense, because Professor Rooke is being really polite.
“Make that two,” I say.
Milo frowns at me, and for a moment I think he’s going to protest, but then he just shakes his head, sighs, and takes Bastian’s card.
As he turns away to prepare our order, Bastian turns to me, ducking his head until his mouth is right by my ear.
“I am a bad influence,” he says, chuckling.
It takes all my willpower not to blush and turn away. I tilt my head back just far enough to make eye contact and wish I hadn’t.
Professor Rooke’s irises are studded with flecks of gold, his pupils shifting in size as he focuses on me just inches away from him.
I lick my lips, and his gaze darts to my mouth.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”