Chapter 5
I leave Professor Holmes’ office in a hurry.
Though I walk slowly while I’m in the Faculty Building, I break into a jog once I’m out of sight.
I can’t make sense of my thoughts, and my body is overloaded from all the sensations and emotions I’ve experienced in the past few hours.
The humiliation of being called out by him, the happiness of knowing he wants me as much as I want him, the pure pleasure and bliss his mouth brought me to, and then the disappointment of not being able to find release.
All of it is maddening, and yet I can’t get him out of my head.
I should be upset with him. I should be angry. I should respect myself and realize that a man who dangles an orgasm in front of me like a reward shouldn’t be trusted. That’s what I should do, but it’s not how I feel.
The thrill of his approval matters so much to me, even now as he’s withholding it.
I wring my fingers, trying to work out what this means. Professor Holmes and I have already crossed the line. Teachers and students don’t do what we just did, and if I want it to continue, I’ll have to keep it a secret and guard it with my life.
Out of every sexual experience I’ve ever had, I’ve never been that turned on before. There’s no denying I want him, and there’s nothing wrong with that. My life ends in a little more than a month. The least I can do is enjoy what’s left of it.
If I’m to end up in hell for the rest of my life, then I deserve this slice of heaven.
By the time I make it to my dorm, I’m resolved to do as Professor Holmes asks. I’m not sure what to call this thing between us, but it feels right to me—and that’s all I care about. It doesn’t matter that we don’t have a future.
We can just enjoy the now.
When I enter my dorm room, I find Cassidy plopped down on the sofa watching one of those trashy American reality TV shows. She’s got her hair in curlers and a face mask on. Lavender-infused smoke billows from the diffuser on her desk.
Her eyes light up when she sees me. She sets her sparkling water down on the coffee table, a small smile on her face.
“Where have you been?" she asks, looking me up and down. “I haven’t seen you this dolled up in a long time.”
“I went to beg Professor Holmes for the chance to submit my essay tomorrow,” I say. The best lie is always one with a little bit of the truth mixed in.
Cassidy titters. “Did the tits work?” She gestures to my bosom.
I look down at them, thankful that I at least wore a bra. If I didn’t, I’m certain she would be able to see just how “well” it went.
“He gave me the chance to do a make-up assignment,” I lie. “However, he told me something else.”
Slowly, I approach her.
“Yeah? What’s that?” she asks, taking a sip from her drink.
“He overheard you telling someone that I have a crush on him,” I fold my arms over my chest. Cassidy doesn’t seem stunned by my revelation. She stares back blankly at me. “I doubt Professor Holmes would lie about something like that.”
She shrugs, leaning back in the couch and adjusting her robe. “No, he wouldn’t. I did tell some of the Hemlock girls about your crush.”
Cassidy says it all so unemotionally that for a moment I wonder if I’m crazy for thinking she’s done something wrong.
“Why would you do that, Cass?” I ask, raising my voice. “I told you that shit in confidence. If I wanted everyone to know, I would have gotten it tattooed on my forehead!”
That makes her laugh. I glare at her.
“It’s not that big of a deal, T. Everyone has crushes. You’re not even the only one with a crush on him.”
That intensifies my anger, and I find myself feeling a little jealous. Professor Holmes looks like he was chiseled by god himself, so I shouldn’t be surprised that other students find him attractive.
Does he have other favorite students, though? Does he punish them too?
I reign myself in before I go too deep into the rabbit hole. It shouldn’t matter to me, even if it is true. I’m leaving soon, and I’m already promised to someone else. Whatever it is we have is fleeting, and I should treat it that way.
I bring myself back to the issue at hand.
“It doesn’t matter, Cassidy! When I told you that, I didn’t want anyone else to know!” I shout. “Especially not him. Do you know how embarrassed I was when he told me?”
She’s still laughing like there’s something funny about what I’m saying. My patience is wearing thin, and I want to slap the smile off her face. If we were in a different place, I would.
“Really?” Cassidy says. “You were embarrassed, not happy?” She adjusts one of the rollers in her hair. “I figure you would use it as an opportunity to finally get him to fuck you, or something.”
My cheeks heat up. If looks could kill, Cassidy would be laying on the floor gasping for air.
“Cassidy, you are an absolute bitch!” I scream, storming over to my side of the room. “This just proves to me that I cannot fucking trust you with anything.”
She swats me away, obviously unfazed by how angry I am. “Calm down, Tara. You’re being dramatic.”
I want to rage and shout and scream and kick and cry, but I don’t.
Instead, I retreat to the safety of the bathroom and run myself a hot bath. Cassidy and I have been roommates since our very first day here. It wasn’t by choice, but I welcomed the idea of making a new friend.
After all, I was thousands of miles away from home in a new, unfamiliar country.
But Cassidy and I are different in every way.
She’s the spoiled only daughter of some snobby British royal.
I’m the second daughter of a Colombian mafia don.
The only reason we’re even at Saint Frederic University together is because it’s the safest place in the world for us both—the Peace Treaty ensures that nobody can be killed on campus.
Cassidy’s used to being the center of attention.
She is used to getting what she wants. In her world, there is little accountability because her father’s wealth and power will make it all go away.
It’s not like that for me. In my world, your word is your bond.
We protect each other with our lives, and we would sooner choose death than the dishonor of being known as a snake.
At first, I thought I could look past our differences.
Now, I’m not so sure. This feels like the beginning of the end of our friendship, and I don’t think she knows, or if it even matters to her.
I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speaker and put on my favorite band.
When the bath is full of steaming hot water, I add a bath bomb and sink into the inviting water.
I close my eyes, hoping that a soak will quell my troubled mind and get rid of the pent-up tension in my bones. Yet, all I can think of as I lay naked in the tub is what it would be like if Professor Holmes were here with me.
Would he bend me over the edge of the counter and fuck me, or would he want to take me while we’re standing in the shower? Would he come on my face if I asked, or would he prefer to see me swallow it all?
My thoughts are absolutely unhinged, but I don’t even try to stop them. I’ve suppressed myself for far too long. When I open my eyes, I realize I’ll never have peace unless I see this through to the end.
Whatever that end may be.