4. Karolina
KAROLINA
The temptation to skip Rand’s class is almost overwhelming. A long, punishing sprint at dawn barely helped me clear my mind, even though I pushed myself past my endurance level.
Exhaustion saps my limbs, but I manage to trudge into the lecture hall and drop down into a seat.
I sigh a small breath of relief that Rand isn’t here yet. I’m not ready to talk to him outside of an academic setting.
Because ever since I woke up this morning, the same thought has plagued me: he concealed his identity all these years, but so have I.
He knows my real first name, but I only told him about the fact that I was in foster care a few weeks ago. He probably thinks I go by Lena as a nickname, not an entirely new identity I bought for myself after I killed Carter and Brandon.
Since I met him as Rand, he’s opened up to me about his painful past. I’ve shared glimpses at my own, but there’s so much more.
A little voice in my head tells me I’m a hypocrite for haranguing him for his duplicity; I’ve concealed my true identity, too.
The difference is that he looked me up. He dug into my private life without permission, and he became fixated on me in a way I never knew.
He’s in love with me.
I crave the man I’ve come to know since moving to York, Rand, but I don’t know him nearly well enough to truly love him.
The imbalance is unsettling.
His utter devotion was obvious in every desperate word he said yesterday.
The only thing that scares me more than his obsession is how much I want to accept his promise of unconditional support.
“Hey, Lena.”
I jolt when Amala speaks to me. I didn’t notice that she’s occupying the seat beside me.
“Are you okay?” Her large eyes search my face, easily reading my turmoil.
I anxiously twirl a lock of hair around my finger, hating that I have to lie to my friend. “I didn’t sleep well. I think the stress is getting to me.”
“You spend too much time at the library,” she admonishes. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for a study buddy, but you need to have a little fun sometimes. Will you come out with me tonight?”
I suppress a cringe. The last thing I feel like is dancing.
“I don’t know,” I equivocate. “I have so much reading to do. And I want to write a chapter of the book I’m working on.”
Her eyes light up. “Oh yeah, your novel! I almost forgot you want to be an author when you finish our course. Will you tell me about it? What’s the genre?”
“Romantic fantasy. But it’s very much a work in progress.”
“That’s amazing!” she enthuses, refusing to allow me to downplay my creative passion. “I love romance novels. We should compare our Tbrs. Just one drink at the pub, nothing crazy. Please?”
She’s far kinder than I deserve, considering how I’ve kept her at a distance ever since we met. I can’t keep rebuffing every invitation to socialize.
And I could use a friend, even if I can’t tell her anything about my complicated life.
Talking about books is a safe enough subject.
“Okay,” I agree, offering her a weak smile. “But I’ll need to get an early night. I really am tired.”
She beams at me. “We don’t have to go to a pub. There’s a dessert bar that’s open into the evening. We could get cheesecake. I’ll bring my eReader.”
It sounds so wholesome that my eyes sting with gratitude. I blink quickly before my frayed emotions overwhelm me.
“That sounds wonderful. Thanks.”
“We can make a plan after class.” She covers her mouth and says in an undertone, “Professor Arsehole looks particularly moody today.”
My head whips around, and I find Rand staring at me as though I’m the only thing that matters in the world.
I shrink back in my seat as his intense attention presses down on me like a tangible force.
He notes my diminished posture, grimaces, and tears his gaze away.
Class crawls by, and even though I can’t help hanging on to his every word, nothing he says about Viking history sticks in my mind. I’m completely fixated on him, studying the way his massive body shifts in his tweed jacket. Those sleeves are covering the tattoos of my face.
By the time his lecture is mercifully over, I’ve only scrawled a few unintelligible notes. If I continue like this, I’ll fail my course.
How am I going to focus on my MA when Bones is my professor?
He said we’ve been studying the same subjects for years. He got this job just to be close to me.
I shiver and break from his gaze, gathering my books and shoving them in my bag.
“Lena.” Rand says my fake name, and I stiffen. “I need a word.”
I want to tell him this isn’t fair. On campus, he’s in a position of authority. I can’t refuse in front of the other students.
I asked for space, and he’s pushing my boundary.
I square my shoulders and force myself to face him. He reads my displeasure clearly in my expression, and he seems to smother a wince.
But he doesn’t relent. He doesn’t dismiss me to join my course mates.
As soon as we’re alone, I drop the pretense of being his student; I’m his equal.
“You have no right to keep me here. You said you respect me, but you’re manipulating me. Again.”
His brows draw into harsh slashes. “Needle me all you want. I deserve it. I’ll take whatever barbed words you want to throw at me, but I’m not giving up on us.”
I cast a frantic glance around the room, but everyone is gone. The door is closed.
“I don’t want to talk here,” I say in an undertone.
“Why not?” he challenges. “We’re alone.”
“Because I can’t trust myself when I’m with you.” I’m more desperate now.
I think about the filthy scene in his office, when I surrendered to him.
Oh, god.
“You set me up,” I accuse. “That day in the library. You commanded me to masturbate in public. You guilted me into it as Bones. And then you showed up as Rand. You ordered me into your office and took advantage of me.”
He flinches as though my words make physical impact. “Don’t say that. I would never take advantage of you.”
My fists clench. “You tricked me. You manipulated me. Just like you’re using the power imbalance at university between us now.”
“Don’t say you regret that first kiss.” He’s begging. “Don’t say you regret us.”
My traitorous heart aches for him. The man standing in front of me is the only person I’ve wanted in years: he’s my masked man, and he’s Rand.
Forgiving him is so terribly tempting.
He reaches for me, and I don’t pull away. His fingers rest on my wrist, reading my elevated pulse at his touch.
“You want me,” he says, a rough statement of fact.
“What my body wants and what my brain is telling me are entirely different things.” My rebuttal is far too breathy.
“Let me ease your mind, then. You want to know why I ordered you to masturbate in the library? Because I was terrified of losing you. Because I’m weak for you, and it makes me crazy.
I know what I did was manipulative, and I’m sorry for that.
But I can’t be sorry for what came of it. I’ll never regret one moment we share.”
My lips quiver at a rush of emotion in response to his raw need.
“This is insane,” I whisper.
“Maybe I’m not entirely sane, then. Call me a madman. Call me a bastard. Call me anything you want, as long as you call me yours.”
“Rand…”
He seals my protest with his lips on mine. A soft sound between a whimper of need and a moan of relief eases from my chest. My hands curve around his shoulders, anchoring myself to him.
His kiss feels like coming home.
For a few blissful minutes, I allow myself to be swept up in his madness. I allow him to consume me. I want him to take and take, to claim me until there’s no room for niggling worries or doubts.
Being enfolded in his strong arms is so reassuring that it makes my eyes sting.
“Lena, do you want to come with me to—?” Amala’s question ends on a sharp gasp.
My stomach drops to the floor, and I tear my lips from Rand’s.
She’s staring at us with shock, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“I was just coming to check on you,” she babbles. “Sorry, Lena. I’ll just… I’ll go now.”
She darts out of the lecture hall.
“Amala, wait!”
Rand grabs my wrist, chaining me to him so that I can’t go after my friend to explain.
I jerk free of his hold, and his crestfallen expression is a knife in my heart.
I take a step back, forcibly putting more distance between me and my professor.
“Don’t push me away,” he rasps. “Not now.”
I ease farther back. “I need space.”
“Please, Karolina.”
I shudder, and his eyes flash.
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to be with me,” he insists. “Don’t lie to us both.”
“This is too much for me,” I reply, strained. “I’m not rejecting you, but I’m freaking out. Can’t you understand that? Please give me some space so I can process all this. I have to figure out what I’m going to do.”
“We can figure it out together,” he declares. “You don’t need an MA. I don’t have to be your professor. You’re talented enough to—”
I hold up a hand to silence him, my cheeks flushing with anger. “You don’t know how hard I’ve worked for this. I’m not just going to throw my life away for you. I…care about you, but I won’t sacrifice everything I’ve built.”
He looks as though I’ve gutted him with the same knife that’s twisting in my own heart.
“Call me when you’re ready to talk.” He manages to force the words through his clenched teeth.
His entire body is practically vibrating with the barely leashed need to reach for me.
But he’s restraining himself. He won’t push me to accept him when I’m not ready.
Looking into his shining eyes, I get the impression that he would wait forever for me. His devotion is so all consuming that it makes something inside me quake—equal parts fear and traitorous desire.
I offer him a jerky nod and rush out of the lecture hall, escaping his allure.
I’m not sure how I’ll resolve this, but lingering with my professor after I was just caught kissing him is the last thing I need to do right now.
If Amala tells anyone at the university…
I toss away the panic before it can consume me. I won’t lose my new life as Lena Williams. I’ll find a way to make things right.
I have to.