Carter #2
I felt his focus linger on the side of my face, heavier than it had been a moment ago.
I could almost feel him marking the win.
That thought alone was enough to shove me back behind my usual defenses.
I straightened my neck, facing forward and fixing my stare on the library clock tower in the distance.
“I prefer consistency,” I said, my voice reclaiming its edge. “And I don’t have time for a Valerio’s mood swings. I have school and work.”
Speaking of, I reached into my bag to pull out my notebook, my fingers searching for the spiral edge. They hit nothing but the bottom of the tote. I did a quick, blind sweep, then another.
Shit.
I stopped, my hand still buried in the bag. I didn't need to dump it out to know. I could see the exact spot on the desk where I’d left it.
“Great.” I muttered, more to myself than him. The brief flash of humor from a moment ago was gone, replaced by a sharp spike of genuine annoyance. I didn't wait for his commentary as I spun on my heel, already heading back the way we’d come. “I left my notebook in the lecture hall.”
He didn’t comment. He just pivoted smoothly and fell back into step beside me.
"Are you still here?" I asked, not slowing down as we hit the steps. "Does the loitering have a scheduled end time, or is this a full-day commitment?"
"I already told you I’m a fan of scenery," he said, his voice a dry hum. "A university is very polished. Very... academic."
"Right. You’re a scholar at heart." I reached the heavy doors of the lecture hall and yanked the handle. It didn't budge. I yanked again, harder. "Are you kidding me? It’s two in the afternoon."
"Try the other one, Shortcut."
"It's locked. They must have—"
He reached past me, his arm brushing my shoulder, and pulled the left-side handle. It opened with a smooth, effortless creak.
I stood there, hand still frozen on the locked right door. I could feel the laughter in his eyes without even looking at him. I shot him a silent, scathing glare—the kind that should have burned on impact—and marched past him into the dim room.
"I remember the security being a bit more thorough back in my day," he murmured, his footsteps echoing behind me. "Used to check the handles every hour on the hour."
A snort escaped me as I headed for my row. "Your day? You were here for what, probably a semester? I’m surprised you even stayed long enough to learn where the buildings were."
"I learned enough."
The spiral binding caught my eye from the desk, and I snatched it up, relief hitting hard enough that for a second, he disappeared from my mind entirely. Almost. I turned, notebook in hand, ready to get out. "Okay, let's go before—"
Heavy footsteps thudded in the hallway. A jingle of keys.
"Thought I heard voices in here," a gruff voice called out.
Dominic’s nonchalance vanished. Before I could even draw a breath to ask what he was doing, his hand was over my mouth, warm and firm. He didn't just grab me; he maneuvered me back deeper into the corner, his body pinning mine against the wall.
I let out a muffled sound of protest against his palm, my hands coming up to push at his chest. Don’t touch me, I tried to say, but he only pressed closer, his weight anchoring me.
"Shh," he breathed against my ear. It wasn't a request; it was an ultimatum.
The door creaked open. A flashlight beam cut across the floor, sweeping over the empty desks. My heart was a frantic bird in my chest. The officer muttered something about kids leaving doors open and pulled the handle shut. The click of the lock sounded like a starter pistol.
Dominic let his hand drop.
"Don't," I hissed, the word barely out before I could find my footing. "Do not ever—"
The footsteps returned. Fast. A second voice called out from the hall, right on the other side of the wood.
"Wait," Dominic noted, his eyes locking onto mine in the dark.
"I am not hiding like a—"
He didn't give me the chance to finish. He didn't have to hide my voice with his hand this time; he just took it. He leaned in, his mouth crashing against mine to drown out the sound of my protest just as the figures of two men passed the frosted glass of the door.
It was harder than expected. Not gentle, not tentative. Just enough pressure to steal the rest of my words and replace them with want. Shock flared first, pure and sharp, but my hand curled into the fabric of his shirt without my consent.
The steps moved on. Silence returned to the hall, heavy and absolute.
Dominic didn’t pull away. Neither did I. The kiss deepened just enough to make my pulse stutter, shifting from a tactic into something devastating and controlled. It felt like he was testing a theory and found the result dangerous.
I was the one who broke it.
I stepped back too fast, my shoulder hitting the wall, my breath unsteady. “I think,” I said, then stopped to swallow. “I think they’re gone.”
Something flickered sharply in Dominic’s cheek. Once. He looked at me, his eyes dark and unreadable in the dimness around us. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a low rasp.
The space between us felt louder than the lecture hall ever had. I adjusted my bag, the strap digging into my shoulder, desperate for something to do with my hands. My lips still felt stained by him, an invisible sensation that made me want to either scream or hide.
“That was...” I started, my voice failing me. I cleared my throat, trying to find the sharp edges of my dignity. “That was unnecessary. The guard already moved on. We were in the clear.”
Dominic stepped back, the proximity vanishing so fast it felt like a physical slap. His expression smoothed into something chillingly blank.
“You wouldn’t shut up,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of the rasp from seconds ago. “I already tried with my hand. You were about to start a debate with the wind, and I didn't have the patience to wait for the second guard to walk in and find us.”
I stared at him, the shock of the kiss curdling into a hot, humiliated flush. “So that was what? A tactical muzzle?”
“It was efficient.” He straightened his posture, finally looking at me with a gaze as ruthless as a boardroom takeover.
“A couple caught in a dark corner is a cliché people typically tend to ignore. Two people arguing about ‘consistency’ is a reason to call campus police. I chose the path of least resistance.”
“The path of least resistance,” I repeated, my voice trembling with an anger that felt much safer than the pull from before.
I let out a short, ugly laugh. “I should have known. That’s your entire brand, isn't it? Whether it’s a podium or a lecture hall, you just find a way to charm or buy your way out of the mess you made. ”
His mouth flattened into such a brutal line I heard his teeth grind. For a second, the walls came down just enough to reveal something dark and bruised underneath before he sealed them shut again.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he snapped, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low register. “It was a means to an end. Nothing more.”
“Of course,” I said, clutching my notebook to my chest like a shield.
“God forbid a Valerio actually has to explain himself to a security guard. Much easier to just lean into the playboy routine you’ve been perfecting since you dropped out of here.
Is that how you handle your close calls on the track, too?
Just find someone to distract until the problem goes away? ”
The silence that followed was brittle. I’d hit a nerve, and we both knew it.