8. Rae
RAE
“Hey, girl.”
I let out a strangled noise as I whirled around, the morning sun streaming in through the skylights above.
Nisha halted in her tracks, worry creasing her face. “Are you okay?”
My heart hammered against my ribs as I struggled to get my breathing under control. “Sorry.”
The word came out as more of a squeak. I really needed to work on my self-preservation instincts. If that had been Simon, what would I have done? Throw my I’d Propagate That pen at his head?
And I had a feeling that if it had been my mysterious stranger, it would’ve been more dangerous. An image of the scary, hot dude flashed in my mind. Worn leather jacket. Broad shoulders. Thick scruff along an angular jaw. Hypnotizing amber eyes.
A hand gently squeezed my elbow. I jumped again as Nisha’s face came into focus. She was frowning now.
“Rae, what’s going on?” Her voice was somehow both gentle and firm.
I let out a breath, suddenly realizing my lungs were burning from lack of oxygen. “I didn’t sleep great. I think it’s made me jumpy.”
It wasn’t a lie, exactly. I’d tossed and turned from the revolving door of images in my mind. Simon’s sneering face. My stranger’s furious one. But there was something about him. Something almost familiar.
“Did you watch that horror movie by yourself?” Nisha demanded.
More like I lived one.
I tried to force a smile. “Guilty,” I lied.
She let out an exasperated sound and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Did you not learn from the great terror of first year?”
I let out a soft laugh, relishing the feeling of relief. “How many times do I have to apologize?”
One corner of her mouth tugged up. “It’s not me you need to apologize to. It’s Brian who you almost hit with the bat.”
“You mean she tried to hit me with the bat, then slipped on nothing at all and nearly gave herself a concussion,” Brian cut in as he joined us.
I winced at the memory. “The bump on the back of my head was my punishment.”
“Did you hit your head?” a new voice asked.
I turned toward the source, seeing worry settle into Pax’s expression. I patted his arm. “No injuries so far today.”
Brian rolled his eyes. “Going to try to wrap her in bubble wrap next?”
“You know…” Pax began.
I pinched his side. “Don’t even think about it.”
He let out a low chuckle, but the concern found its way back into his expression. “You look tired.”
“Is that a nice way of saying I look like shit?” I asked.
Nisha choked on a laugh. “You’re really winning points today, Pax.”
He grumbled something under his breath. “You’ve got circles, that’s all. Did you have another migraine?”
God, he was a good friend. “No migraine. Promise.”
Nisha shot me a grin. “She watched a scary movie.”
I glared in her direction. “Where’s the loyalty?”
“You know you shouldn’t do that,” Pax said as if he was severely disappointed in me.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumbled as we filed into our lecture class on plant molecular and cellular biology.
Classroom time was my least favorite. I much preferred the labs, where we got our hands in the dirt. It wasn’t that I didn’t find the subject matter interesting. I did. It was simply that being forced to stay inside felt so…stifling.
I slid into a chair and glanced around the room. It took me a moment to realize what I was looking for.
Simon.
A part of me feared that he’d hold the stranger’s intervention against me, that I would be the one to pay the price. A sick feeling slid through my gut at that.
“Hey,” Pax said, pitching his voice low. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a little pale.”
I forced my expression brighter. “I’m fine. Really. How are you? You never told me about the date.”
His gaze slid to the side. “A dud.”
I groaned. “I’m sorry. I still think you should go for the English TA. He’s got that broody-boy thing going for him.”
Pax narrowed his eyes at me. “Stop trying to change the subject. How do you feel this morning?”
“I had a hard time sleeping, that’s all. I promise.”
He stared at me for a moment longer, then pulled out his phone and started typing.
Relief slid through me at being out from under his microscope.
Nisha slid into the chair next to me, pulling out her laptop.
“Did you get the notes I sent you?” I asked, desperate for a little more normalcy as the classroom filled.
She nodded as she input her password. “Got ’em. You are a lifesaver.”
“It’s nothing.”
Nisha looked up from her screen. “Rae. I wouldn’t have made it through genetics without you.”
My cheeks heated. “You would’ve.”
She let out a scoffing sound. “Please. Bio, I’ve got down. But my brain rejects genetics altogether.”
“That’s how I feel about evolution,” I grumbled.
She laughed, turning back to her computer. “I guess we all have our things.”
“All right, class. Who’s ready to get cellular?” Professor Nickel greeted as she stepped behind the lectern.
I stole one more glance around the classroom. Leaning toward Nisha, I pitched my voice low. “Where’s Simon? Is he sick or something?”
Normally, I’d expect her to look confused at my asking about him. Instead, her brown eyes lit. “You didn’t hear?”
My gut tightened. “No.”
She grinned. “He got expelled.”
I wasn’t sure I heard a single word during the hour and a half of that lecture. Thankfully, I’d thought to record it on my phone. I’d have to listen when I got home.
My whole body felt achy as I slid my notebook into my messenger bag and turned toward the door. Maybe I was getting the flu.
“I need food,” Nisha called as she headed for the exit. “You guys in?”
“I need a burger,” Brian grumbled.
“I’m in,” Pax said, looking at me.
I slid my bag over my shoulder. “I think I’m just gonna head home. Maybe take a nap.”
Pax frowned at me. “You sure?”
I nodded. “Need to catch up on my sleep.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Pax began.
Brian coughed and spoke the word whipped as if they were one sound. Pax just ignored him.
“That’s okay. I’m good. Really.” I needed a few moments alone to gather my thoughts.
Simon. Expelled.
Had he really been terrified enough by my stranger to turn himself in?
I guessed I didn’t blame him. The man was intimidating, his threats a little too…real.
Pax hovered in the doorway before Nisha tugged him through it, forcing him to go with her group. I breathed a little easier and started to weave my way through the desks.
Professor Nickel looked up as I approached, her wiry, gray hair falling in chaotic disarray around her face. “Excellent work on your exam, Rae. I’ll be handing them back tomorrow, but you set the curve.”
Warmth spread through me. “Thank you, Professor.”
I’d spent weeks preparing for that one. Even if I wasn’t a fan of the classroom, I knew it held knowledge that I needed to get where I wanted to go.
“Keep up the good work,” she called as I headed for the door.
The hallway wasn’t full, but it wasn’t empty either. A handful of undergrads and graduate students tried to find their way to lunch or class. But through the people, I caught sight of something that stole my breath.
Someone.
The stranger wore that same leather jacket, the one my fingers itched to trace the seams of.
Beneath it was a button-down, paired with dark-wash jeans and expensive-looking boots.
The gold watch on his wrist looked expensive, too.
Attending this university, I’d gotten good at spotting things like that.
It wasn’t just the watch. Rings encircled his fingers, but he was too far away for me to identify them.
The distance wasn’t too great for me to read that familiar anger on his face, however.
I swallowed hard and kept walking. Maybe he was just a supremely grumpy human being.
Maybe he was currently trying to give up caffeine or something even more deranged, like sugar.
Maybe the glower had nothing to do with me.
But still, I couldn’t look away.
My gaze locked with his and held. I couldn’t have focused on anything else if I’d tried. My legs somehow managed to keep moving, even as I found I couldn’t breathe. It was as if all the air in my lungs had simply vanished.
That buzzing sensation lit beneath my skin again, and I felt a tug deep inside the cavity of my chest. I couldn’t help but lift a hand to the spot and rub my sternum.
The man’s gaze followed the movement, and it was as if the amber of his eyes turned to liquid gold. I swore I saw sparks flying around his irises. The buzzing beneath my skin intensified.
What the hell is happening?
A muscle fluttered in his jaw. The hand at his side stretched, then clenched.
Tiny dots danced in front of my vision, but I forced myself to keep going. I was nearly to the spot where I knew we’d pass each other. I smelled it then. Leather and smoke. Amber. A blend of all three, and something I’d never smelled before.
It was heady. Intoxicating. And I had the bizarre urge to roll around in it.
I swore I heard an intake of breath as I passed. A sharp inhale. But I kept walking, forcing myself not to turn around.
“Petite étincelle.”
My entire body seized at the nickname, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking back.
The man held something out to me. A small white tube. “You’ve got a habit of dropping things.”
Part of me wanted to scream, even though there were people all around. Another part wanted to tell him to keep it. Because I knew, somewhere deep and primal, that getting anywhere near this man was dangerous.
He took one step closer, then another, his gaze still locked on mine, holding me captive. He held out the Chapstick.
I looked down at the tiny tube as if it were a snake about to strike.
The man didn’t waver, only waited. It was like a game of chicken. And I was losing.
My hand trembled as I reached out.
“I see you do have a flicker of self-preservation. Good,” he clipped.
My gaze snapped to his face. The fury was still there. As if my lack of self-protection enraged him.
I snatched the lip balm from his grasp, and as I did, the tips of my fingers grazed his skin. Agony and need in equal measure ripped through me.
I nearly dropped to my knees and staggered to avoid the embarrassment. The sparks in his irises were flames now, blazing like an inferno. I swore I could feel the heat. Or maybe it was simply his skin that was many degrees warmer than mine.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I nearly stumbled as I turned. All I could think was that I needed to get outside. I needed air. Sunlight.
Drunkenly, I found the doors and burst through them. The still-cool air wasn’t the balm it usually was. It was as if the stranger had ignited something inside me that I couldn’t douse.
I hurried toward my car, trying not to look like I’d taken twelve shots of tequila during my class. It took me five tries to get my key in the door.
When I finally did and got in, I caught movement in my rearview mirror. It was him. Not close, just outside the parking lot, but it still felt like he could reach out and grab me.
Throwing the car into reverse, my tires squealed as I sped out of the parking lot and headed down side streets until I hit the highway.
But my heart rate didn’t slow as I made my way out of Boston.
Not even when I reached the small town of Maplebrook.
Not when I saw my adorable, dilapidated cottage.
Not even when I locked the door behind me.
Pain and need still coursed through me like they were each half my heart, alternating pulses of each.
Something was wrong with me.
Very wrong.
Agony radiated through my chest, and I clawed at my sternum. Fiery tendrils of something scalded me from the inside.
Shower. I needed an ice-cold shower. Now.