Chapter 14
Guinevere
R yker and I have met two more times since our last session in the library. He barely spoke to me, and our typical banter back and forth vanished. It’s like he’s actually mad at me, which makes me feel strangely guilty. I knew I pissed him off, but I thought he’d be over it by now.
The air is chilled as I walk through campus to the library to once again meet with Ryker. The coffee in my hand is helping keep me warm. I can’t believe how fast the weather changed. I swear just a week ago or so there was at least still a warm breeze in the air.
Halloween is already next Friday, and I honestly can’t believe how fast this semester has been going. I’m hopeful that Professor Whitely doesn’t come up with any other partner projects before the end of the semester.
Someone has gone around and dressed up all of the buildings with small decorations such as pumpkins and little bats flying from the trees, small Halloween banners, and even some bigger stuff like the witch on her broomstick sticking out of the ground in front of Café Grind.
Leaves dance around the ground as the light breeze blows, causing the bats hanging from the tree branches to look as if they’re going to fly off. The plaid scarf and beanie I’m wearing today are enough to keep me comfortable, but the lack of gloves is really doing me in.
The fresh scent of autumn and pumpkin spice fills my senses as I walk up to the library. I spot Ryker right away, sprawled out in one of the large study rooms. His dark hair is curlier than usual, and he has a bit more stubble on his chin than I’ve ever seen him with. His green eyes meet mine as I enter the room, shutting the door behind me.
The twinge of guilt comes back full force as I watch his gaze lower back down to his book. He doesn’t even say a word. No hello, no taunting remark, nothing. Damn, he really is pissed. God, Gwen. Why do you even care?
Ryker is a legacy member of the Ellington Elite; his family name drips with money and power. He’s cruel and arrogant. He doesn’t deserve my guilt, or an apology.
Gritting my teeth, I set my bag down on the ground, pulling out the chair across from Ryker. His eyes move up to my face and then wander down with my body as I sit.
"Well, if it isn’t Ms. Guinevere Sharpe,” his deep voice rumbles. How does he know my last name? I never said anything. I wonder if he told Holland about our partnership.
A flush of irritation mixed with a spark of awareness rips through my veins at the thought of Ryker Steele speaking about me to his housemates, but I push it away before it overtakes me.
At least he spoke to me. I guess he’s breaking this whole silent streak. The guilt dissipates and it’s replaced by annoyance at the tone of his voice.
I refuse to let this man get under my skin, no matter how annoyingly handsome he is with his tousled dark hair and smoldering green eyes.
Shit, no, don’t think about him like that Guinevere.
Ryker raises an eyebrow, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes .
"I thought you’d give up by now. After all, I am Ellington University's most eligible asshole," he sits up, leaning forward, and I can’t help but notice the way his muscles strain against his thin t-shirt.
I roll my eyes, ignoring the odd flutter in my stomach.
"What do you mean, give up?” I ask. This isn’t something I can just give up on. We need to finish this project, and I am not failing because of him.
Ryker smirks. “Forget it, Rebel. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
For the next hour, we work in a strained silence, both refusing to back down or concede to the other's point of view.
I can feel my frustration grow as Ryker shoots down each of my ideas with that cocky, condescending smile of his, knowing he’s pissing me off. It’s like he enjoys it.
Finally, I’ve had enough. "What is your problem? Do you even care about passing this class?"
Ryker leans back in his chair, a lazy smile on his face. "Of course I do. I just think we need to take a different approach. You're so uptight. Does it hurt?” My eyes narrow into thin slits.
“Does what hurt?” I demand.
“Having that stick up your ass all the time,” I can feel my temper flare. My nerve endings are on fire with how much I hate the man in front of me. I want nothing more than to take my pencil and shove it through his big, veiny hand.
And to think I was actually considering apologizing to this dick.
“Does that hurt?” I question, a smirk playing on my lips. Ryker’s head tilts to the side and he leans closer to me over the table, anticipating what’s going to come out of my mouth next.
“What?”
“The fact that you have to overcompensate for your small dick by being a total ass all the time?” Ryker guffaws and leans his torso even further over the table so he’s right in my face.
I don’t move. I don’t lean back. I stay right where I am, with my eyes locked to his. Something wicked dances in them, and the anticipation in my body is palpable .
“Trust me, Rebel. There is nothing ‘small’ about me. I’d be more than happy to show you if you’d like,” he winks.
My belly fills with a thousand butterflies at the visual of Ryker in front of me with his dick out, stroking it with one hand and staring at me as I play with my clit. Fuck.
“I’ll pass,” I force out. “Let’s get back to the project.”
Ten minutes later and we’re back at each other’s throats. I swear talking to him is like pulling teeth, and somehow, it’s even worse not talking.
He’s making it difficult to even concentrate as his leg bounces a million miles a minute under the table. The incessant clicking of his pen, and the way he’s humming makes me want to throw a rock at him.
“Can you stop that?” I snap, finally having enough. Ryker cocks an eyebrow.
“Stop what?” he asks innocently.
“Everything that you’re doing. Just stop,” I look back down to my notebook where I was writing a few more thoughts on the book.
“Am I annoying you?” Ryker questions. Everything you do annoys me I think.
“Yes,” is all I say. Ryker smirks, his green eyes glistening with mischief.
“Good.”
I’m going to hit him with my car and feed his dead body to the wolves.
“ Did you develop your personality in a car crash?” I ask with a snide smile.
Before he can say anything back, my phone begins to ring beside me on the table. Lainey’s name pops up on the screen. I rush to answer the call so I can distract myself from wanting to stab Ryker in the eye.
“Hey, Lainey. What’s up?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ryker’s smug expression. He thinks he’s won this round, but he better buckle the hell up because I’m not backing down .
“You know how we were going to have a nice night in on Friday?” Lainey asks, a suspicious tone laces her soft voice. My eyebrows dip in question.
“Yes…” I answer carefully. I swear if she says we’re-
“Well, we’re going to a party instead,” she says pointedly, as if I have no choice in the matter. “It’s going to be so fun, and we get to dress up!” like that makes it any better.
“Lainey, I-”
“No. You’re going. We’ll go costume shopping later, kay? Okay, see you soon, bye!”
The call ends, leaving me a bit more irritated than I was before I answered it. I hate parties, especially Halloween parties. This is the last thing I want.
“Roommate trouble?” my head whips around to face Ryker, who is still sitting there with that stupid smug grin on his face, like he knows something I don’t.
“Holland?” I ask, knowing that’s the only way Ryker knows who I am, and that Lainey is my roommate. Ryker simply nods.
“Haven’t seen you with your boyfriend in a while. What’s up with that?”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
Why does he even give a shit? It’s none of his business. We shouldn’t even be talking about that; we should be working on how to agree with each other on at least one thing for this damn project.
For the next hour or so, we stay on track, for the most part. Of course, it’s not easy with all of Ryker’s annoying habits and the fact that I am finding it really hard not to stare at him.
The way his muscles move under his shirt, the way his eyes gleam with danger and humor, the way the curls on the top of his head occasionally fall onto his face. And let’s not forget those lips. They’re so full and pink and I bet they’d feel really great on my pussy. Christ, Gwen. Get a grip.
Oh, shit. He definitely saw me staring at his lips.
Ryker’s eyes fall to my lips and linger for a few seconds before coming up to meet my eyes. Those damn flutters in my stomach make me clench my thighs together under the table. As I do, my knee brushes Ryker’s, and my face heats.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I speak before he can get the words out.
“Okay… well. This was so much fun,” I say sardonically as I pack up my stuff. Ryker watches me as if I’m prey, and he’s the hunter. His eyes follow my every movement and I’m suddenly very aware of the wetness in my panties from the thoughts of me being with him.
“But I have to go. We’ll pick back up on Monday, yeah?” I don’t even wait for him to reply. I hightail it out of the library. I don’t have to look back to know Ryker is watching me leave, and for some reason, I like the thought of him watching me walk away.