Chapter Twelve #2
Valerie and I share an amused chuckle.
“What about the redhead?” Cara questions, motioning to the bar. “He looks like he fucks dirty.”
I follow her line of sight to look at him, tilting my head to the side as I try to sift through the many energies and emotions crowding the room and focus in on his.
It’s a low, steady hum, comfortable and neutral.
Not erratic, anxious, or desperate—none of the usual red markers that prompt me to tell Cara to keep looking.
“He seems fine,” I say. “Bring him over here and I can tell you for sure.”
Just like that, Cara stands from her seat. She fluffs up her hair, pushes up her breasts so they practically spill out of the scoop-neckline of her little black dress, and sashays over to the bar on her secondhand Jimmy Choos.
“So, Dorian,” Valerie repeats. “I’m not asking to know what happened to make you stay in his house; it’s none of my business. What I want to know is what’s happening between you and that six-foot-plus modern Adonis.”
I release a choked laugh. “Pardon me?”
Valerie shrugs. “I might not get around as much as Cara, but I have eyes. And desires. If I’m being perfectly honest, all three of the boys in that house are hot as hell, but there’s something coldly calculated about Dorian that's especially attractive.”
I blink slowly. “You’ve been acquainted with him?”
“We shared an elective last year,” she says. “He never noticed me, but every female in that class noticed him. The men, too. Every time he walked in, I swear the temperature skyrocketed.”
I take a small sip of my beer. “He’s into me, I think, but I don’t return the sentiment. I mean, there’s no denying he’s hot, but I don’t like his vibes.”
Valerie’s eyes darken as she leans forward. “Has he hurt you?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No, he hasn’t physically hurt me.” Just left me to fend for myself, again. I’m sensitive to that kind of thing.
“You know how long you’ll be stuck with him?” she asks.
“End of semester, I think,” I say. “If it goes beyond that, I’ll need to get drastic.
I don’t think he or his roommates will hurt me,” especially if they’re under orders from their elusive boss not to, “but I don’t like that house.
I don’t like its inhabitants. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d refuse to stay there.
” I sigh. “The things I’ve seen will not make the three psychos amenable to letting me go.
The fact that Dorian wants in my panties won’t help my case. ”
“What if you just fuck him?” Valerie asks. “Ignore the vibes, and use the sex to control him? Men are easily manipulated when they’re pussy whipped.”
I chuckle, shaking my head with amusement.
“I think he’d be the one to try to control me if that happened.
” My brows draw together. “I’m kind of fucked, dude.
I don’t really know what to do other than wait out the storm, but if the storm doesn’t end…
” I shake my head. “I can’t stay at Greywood.
I’d have to try to find a way to transfer schools and scholarships. ”
Valerie pulls in a sharp breath, frowning. Before she can respond, Cara brings not one, but two guys over. The redhead she’s been eyeing and his brown-haired friend.
“Ronny, this is my friend, Mira,” Cara says, introducing the brunette and tipping me a wink. “She’s single and ready as fuck to mingle.”
I start to give Cara a glare but then pause. Why don’t I hang out with this guy for a bit? So long as he’s not terrible company, that is. He could serve as a palette cleanser before I have to go back to Dorian and his House of Horrors.
“Hey,” I great Ronny with a smile and nod, kicking the empty chair beside me. “Have a seat.”
I turn my attention over to the redhead, once again doing what Cara likes to call an “elevated vibe-check”. It only takes me a few seconds to determine he’s as safe as a young male can possibly be. When Cara meets my eyes again, I give her a subtle nod, letting her know she’s in the clear.
Ronny begins to make small talk with me and Valerie, who takes out her phone and starts scrolling on it.
Evidently, he goes to Greywood and is majoring in economics.
His favorite color is blue, he likes to hike, and as he speaks, I notice that I don’t mind his vibe.
Like his friend’s, it’s calm, steady, and unthreatening.
Almost a little boring. I bet Ronny would like turn-off-the-lights vanilla sex.
After a few minutes of conversation, Ronny leans forward to tuck a stray, stubborn lock of my hair behind my ear.
I glance down, feeling my cheeks heat at the gesture.
I don’t exactly want him, but I do want to get my thoughts away from Dorian, and Ronny’s a convenient person to help me forget the menace currently haunting my life. Even if it’s only for a little while.
“So, you’re in animal sciences,” Ronny says, releasing my hair and taking a sip of his beer. “Does that mean you want to become a vet?”
I nod. “That’s the idea. I like animals, I’d love to have a career dedicated to helping them.”
“Isn’t half of veterinary medicine having to kill them?” he questions.
His words hit me like a bucket of cold water.
Total turn off. “Euthanasia is a very small part of the practice, actually. Less than 5%. It’d be heartbreaking, certainly, but I think it’s also part of the cycle of life.
You don’t want any living being to be stuck in pain or misery.
” I’m pretty irritated at his blatantly spoken misconception.
“Yeah, I guess,” Ronny says. “There are constant cases of malpractice with euthanasia, though, aren’t there? When the vet doesn’t put in enough effort before deciding to just kill the dog or cat?”
Right here is proof that energy doesn’t speak to everything. It’s a good indicator of character and danger, but it’s not terribly useful in determining the minutia of personalities. Ronny might have a pleasant energy, but his opinions and words are deeply annoying.
“There are mistakes made in every profession, including medicine and veterinary care, yes.” I take a small sip of my beer.
“There are also issues with economists, and some could say that the misinformation they spread is the reason we’ve been careening towards an economic crash of apocalyptic proportion for the better part of twenty years. ”
Ronny chuckles. “Economists getting things wrong doesn’t mean anyone dies. Vets and doctors getting things wrong result in deaths all the time.”
Now, I’m really getting irritated. “Economists might not cause deaths, but their shitty systems of calculation and prediction are contributing to massive inflation and subsequent decline in population growth. Most middle-class families can no longer afford to have children. The smart ones will wait until their finances are straightened out to have kids, and for far too many, that time doesn’t come anymore. ”
Valerie looks up from her phone long enough to chip in, “In fact, one could say that economists and politicians are the reason that the American Dream has dwindled down to a fantasy; this country has all but cut out the promise of success and an affordable life for the middle class.”
Ronny swigs his beer again. “Yeah, whatever. It’s all a matter of opinions.”
“Not really,” Valerie disagrees. “It’s a matter of numbers.
Something that you’ll need to get damn good at if you yourself would ever like to have enough money to raise a family.
Unless you’re one of the idiots who will go for it without thinking ahead and planning for the future.
In that case…” she trails off with a shrug.
“Well. That wouldn’t reflect on your career very well, would it? ”
I nod. “An opinion is something unsupported by fact. It’s a theory, one that can be wrong. See, you have an opinion that 50% of veterinary medicine consists of euthanasia.”
“Actually, that’s not an opinion or theory,” Valerie pipes up. “It’s just plain wrong.”
God, I love this girl.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Ronny says to Valerie irritably. She snorts and returns her attention to her phone, dismissing him entirely.
I glance across the table to Cara, only to see that she’s now on the redhead’s lap, shoving her tongue halfway down his throat while he clutches her ass and grinds her against him.
The girl has absolutely no modesty when it comes to public settings—when she’s in hunter mode, she doesn’t care about anything besides getting a satisfying fuck.
I gasp when Ronny’s hand lands high on my thigh, looking at him with wide eyes. He gives me a sloppy grin. “Why don’t we cut with the bullshit talk and head back to my dorm?”
I might’ve considered it if he hadn’t opened his mouth to spew total crap and be rude to my friend, but he did, and now I have less than zero interest in fucking him.
“No, thanks,” I say dismissively. “I only fuck smart people.”
“Then that would make me an excellent candidate,” a male voice says.
Only it’s not Ronny who says it.
Dorian strides up to the table, standing behind the idiot I spent the better part of a half hour conversing with.
There’s an impassive expression settled on Dorian’s features—he looks calm.
His posture isn’t particularly confrontational and he’s not glaring.
Everything about him is perfectly composed, but I can feel the anger radiating from him.
Valerie starts to chuckle with a muttered shit. She probably finds this massively entertaining, while I find it completely horrifying.
Dorian casually steps around Ronny and comes to stand by my chair, gazing down at me.
My breathing hitches as I stare at him in turn, growing more and more concerned at the barely-leashed rage I can sense emanating from him.
What’s even more terrifying is that, if I weren’t cursed to feel people as well as I see them, I’d have no clue that he was upset.
Nothing about his demeanor advertises anger—he looks mildly bored.
“Mira,” he says quietly. “It’s time to go home.”
“Hey, who the fuck are you, man?” Ronny demands.
Dorian swiftly spins to face him. “Her roommate. Her suitor. Someone who’s smart enough to fuck her.” He lifts a shoulder. “I’m many things to her. You aren’t.” Slowly, he tilts his head to the side. “In fact, you’re nothing.”
Ronny stands from his seat. “What’d you just say to me?”
I can sense the tension radiating from Ronny now.
He’s had a few drinks while we’ve been talking.
He was already agitated with the way I handled his bullshit comments about vets, but now he’s extremely agitated at being talked down to.
Dorian is definitely spoiling for a fight, and Ronny just might give it to him.
I don’t feel like witnessing a blood bath, so I stand from my seat and step forward, clearing my throat.
“You should go, Dorian,” I say softly. “I’ll settle my tab and drive to the house. I’ll see you there.”
“Bill’s taken care of,” Dorian says mildly. “For you and your friends.” Slowly, he turns to look at me again. “Let’s go home.” He holds out a hand.
I swallow, giving my head a shake. “I’ll drive myself and meet you there.”
Dorian leans close, until his mouth is right by my ear. “If you don’t come back with me right fucking now, Mira, I’m going to beat that manchild to a bloody pulp. You had your little rebellion, now it’s over, and you are coming back with me. Understand?”
Shit.