Chapter 6
SIX
CHANCE
“You never said where you were coming from,” I say to Thorne as he pushes fries around his plate.
He snaps unreadable brown eyes up to me, a slight down-turn to his lips as he searches my face.
Thorne is a little scary, with his penetrating gaze and his overly composed features.
He could probably rip someone’s throat out and his expression wouldn’t change a lick.
With his dark clothes and dark, broody appearance, he screams serial killer.
Maybe I shouldn’t have chatted him up. He’s probably plotting to kill me for even breathing in his direction.
I keep my scoff to myself. It’s fucking rude to judge someone based on their appearance. Hell, from looking at me, most people would think I’m some kind of trust-fund baby that doesn’t know the value of a dollar.
Is that what he thinks of me?
For some reason, it makes me feel small, like my wealth is something to be embarrassed by. He’d probably glare at me if he knew the amount of money I gained access to just this morning.
“Why do you wanna know?” he asks with an edge.
I shrug. “I was just asking.”
He hums, but still doesn’t answer, just goes back to pushing fries around.
Professor Bridge looks at Thorne, brow scrunched.
The professor looks good. Most red heads burn out in the sun, but he has a healthy tan that makes him appear as if he’s glowing from the inside out.
Turning from the sociopath in our midst, I face the professor. “I’ll be taking your Mechanical/Systems engineering class this semester.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh? That’s an advanced class.”
I smile, though it kind of stings that he thinks I’m not qualified to take the class. “I know. Professor Cooke doesn’t offer it, and I need it for grad school.”
“You’re going to grad school?” Thorne asks, surprise coloring his tone.
The food in my mouth tastes like sawdust as I swallow and push my plate away.
I’m used to being underestimated when it comes to my studies. Most people think I’ll live off my father or get a leg up to start my future in tech instead of wanting to do it on my own. But it hurts that the two people sitting in front of me are basically questioning my intelligence.
I can’t even force a smile on my face when I answer, “Yeah. I’ve been accepted to a program at Meadowbrook. I just need to take that course, and I’m good.”
Thorne makes a noise I can’t identify. “I took that class last year. Pretty hardcore.”
“So why is it a surprise that I’m taking it?” I challenge.
A sharp smile spreads across his face. “Because you’re not me.”
I scoff, though I can’t fight back a grin. “Yeah, okay.” I look over at Professor Bridge. “Yeah, I know it’s advanced, but it’s not like it’ll be hard. Stuff like that clicks in my head more than any other subject. It’s where I feel at home.”
Thorne snorts. “Don’t you have some big Olympic dreams? It’s all over campus. How you gonna go to grad school when you have to train to get medals and shit?”
It’s my turn to ignore a question. That’s my business and I’m not going to dump my shit on a virtual stranger.
Before the silence can become awkward, my phone rings in my pocket.
Pulling it out, I glance down at the screen and frown. Felicity’s name appears.
I could answer the phone, end our relationship right now, but I don’t want to do that in front of an audience. I silence my phone and stuff it back into my pocket.
When I look up, I find Thorne’s eyes on me. “What?” I ask, giving him a bugged-out look.
He grins wolfishly at me. “Nothing.”
How does he do that? How does he make a smile look anything but friendly?
“What’s your deal?” I ask, not liking how he makes me feel…off. “You always look like you’ll rip out someone’s liver and eat it for breakfast.”
Professor Bridge coughs a laugh and I shoot him a wink. He gives me a droll look but still smiles.
He…wow, okay, he has a nice smile. Wide and open, not whatever Thorne does with his face.
I have to drag my eyes away from the professors to focus back on Thorne.
Leaning forward as if he’s going to tell me a secret, he says, “Maybe I will. But I won’t eat it. I’m not a cannibal.”
We stare each other down for a few seconds, then a hard laugh bubbles up my throat. Okay, so he’s funny. From the look of him, I didn’t think he had a joking bone in his body.
“Good to know,” I quip in a low voice.
Something flashes in his eyes, but he covers it before I can question it.
“You’re a junior?” I ask. Thorne nods. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-four.”
“Not too much older than me. I just turned twenty-two. It’s my birthday, actually.”
Professor Bridge squeezes my arm gently. “Happy birthday. Here, I’ll pay for lunch.” He takes the table side terminal and swipes his card over it before I can say otherwise. “Did you choose to fly on your birthday?”
“I wanted to delay going back to campus for as long as I could,” I joke. “Looks like we all did.”
Thorne does that humming thing again. I’m starting to recognize it’s something he does when he wants to say something but keeps it to himself.
“How old are you, professor?” I ask.
He barks a laugh. “Almost double your age.”
“Nothing wrong with an older man,” Thorne says, and the words, the cadence, the tone, send a thrill down my spine and it wasn’t even directed at me.
Looking at Professor Bridge, I can tell it has the same effect.
His eyes are wide, mouth slightly parted, and a flush appears from his cheeks down to the hollow of his throat.
Okay, that was weird.
I’ve only ever been interested in women. Nothing wrong with being a part of the rainbow crew, but that ain’t me.
So why am I noticing how good the professor looks or how Thorne’s words blaze a trail over my nerve endings?
Probably the shit with Felicity. We’ve been dating since our sophomore year of high school.
She’s the only girl I’ve been with and there’s practically no affection between us.
We talk and fuck when she comes to visit me or I visit her, but the relationship is nothing like when we were in high school.
Now, it’s like we’re going through the motions of being a couple.
Now that I know she’s only with me for my money, whatever I felt for her is gone.
The lack of affection and attention has to be the reason I’m off kilter like this.
Has to be.
Professor Bridge coughs a soft laugh. “Yeah, well…I’m thirty-nine.”
Thorne rakes his eyes down the professor’s face, chronicling his blush. “You’re awful young to be a professor.”
“It’s easier in STEM than in other fields, but yes. Youngest tenured professor in Meadowbrook history.”
“Congratulations,” I say, meaning it. I can tell from the pride coloring his tone that he’s worked hard toward that achievement.
“Thanks. It’s exciting.”
My brain clicks back to what Thorne said a moment ago. Turning to him, I say, “You really took that course as a sophomore?”
“Didn’t you know?” he asks, that sharp smile back on his face. “I’m technically a genius.
“Wow. No, I didn’t,” I say honestly.
“You look surprised,” he says, tilting his head. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Spencer.”
“Chance,” I say automatically. “And yeah, I know. Well, not saying you’re pretty or anything…just…” I look over at Professor Bridge for some kind of help and he merely shrugs.
Giving up on trying to explain, I look down at my watch. “We’ll be boarding in about thirty minutes. We should head back to the gate.”
“You two go ahead,” Professor Bridge says. “I need to work on some lesson plans.” He leaves the restaurant without another word.
I’m surprised when Thorne keeps in step with me on the way back to our gate. I got the impression he didn’t really want to be around me but…I don’t know, I feel a little lonely.
None of my frat brothers have been in touch with me all summer. These are the guys I’m supposed to have the deepest connection with, and I haven’t heard dick from them. The only person I’ve been in touch with is Jett, one of the guys on the swim team.
He’s a nice kid but gets shit for being on scholarship where most of us have parents that pay loads of money for us to attend. I don’t care that he’s attending on scholarship. He’s proven he’s really my friend.
But he had to work most of the summer, so I only heard from him sporadically.
It was nice talking to someone that didn’t expect anything from me, though.
Dad expected to talk about swimming and winning gold, Mom wanted to talk about my future, Felicity wanted to talk wedding plans, and my frat brothers didn’t want to talk at all.
Jett just wanted to ask how I was and give me the rundown on how he’s training while working a full-time job.
When I saw Thorne, I thought I could talk to someone else about…anything, really.
It’s true money can’t buy you happiness. All the money in my account and I’m just fucking lonely.
“So…” I look over at Thorne, chronicling his profile. Everything about him is dark. His hair, tattoos, eyes, aura. I’m not sure how I feel about it. “Ever think about rushing a frat?”
His sharp laughter is a shock, but I think I glimpse a real smile. “Nah. I’m not a frat kind of guy. That hazing bullshit is for the birds.”
“It’s not that bad,” I say, bumping his arm. “I’m sure you could take it.”
He trains those dark eyes on me, and I’m sucked in without thought. “It wouldn’t be me I’d be worried about.”
His ominous tone sends a shiver down my spine. What does that mean? Yeah, he looks dangerous, but it has to be a front, right?
We sit down at our gate, and I look out of the window. The plane is taxied at the runway, so I’m hopeful we’ll be out of here in no time.
I’m not sure if I should ask for Thorne’s number or something, so we can hang out when we get back to Meadowbrook. Would he even give it to me? Probably not. He’d probably stare me down until I dropped the question and give me one of those dark smiles when I did.
Besides that, we only had lunch together. That doesn’t make us besties.
Before I can work up the courage to risk it all, my phone rings again. Sighing, I dig it out of my pocket and frown when I see Felicity is calling again.
She rarely calls me back when I ignore her calls, so it could be an emergency.
“Hey,” I mutter when I answer. “What’s up?”
“Baby,” she says in that pouty voice that grates on my nerves. “I was worried about you. You didn’t call.”
I blow out a soft breath and sit back in my chair, threading my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, I was going to when I got to the frat house.”
“Where are you? Why didn’t you go straight there?”
“Flight got delayed. We should be heading out soon, though.”
She tsks. “Should have stayed an extra day with me. We could have had a good time. I could have given you a better going away fuck than I did.”
I’m quiet, wondering if she remembers it’s my birthday.
She didn’t say anything before she left yesterday and didn’t text me to say happy birthday today.
I don’t care that she forgot, but it’s pretty rich of her to want to be my wife and can’t even remember my birthday.
We’ve been together long enough for her to know.
“What about a birthday gift?” I ask.
She giggles in my ear, high pitched and grating. “My birthday isn’t for another three months, silly. But you can get me an early gift if you want. There’s this bracelet that—”
“Felicity, it’s my birthday,” I cut her off, irritated.
She’s silent for a few seconds, then laughs again. “I know that. I was just…I was joking. You’ll…your gift will be at your frat house in a few days.”
Not wanting to talk to her anymore, I say, “They’re calling my flight. I gotta go.” I hang up before she can lie again.
I should have broken up with her just then. That was grounds for a breakup, right? You’re supposed to remember your partner’s birthday. Every year, I’ve made a production of hers, sending her expensive gifts, making posts on my social media, the works. And she couldn’t even send me a simple text.
I’m not sure why I’m upset; I’m done with her. Maybe it’s the principle. But it pisses me off that no one fucking sees me.
Looking up, I see Thorne watching me, a frown marring his face. “Trouble in paradise?” he asks.
“No. People enjoy paradise.”
He chuckles softly and goes back to looking at his phone.
In a low voice, he says, “Happy birthday, Chance.”
A glow lights up my chest and I smile, dipping my head in thanks.
I’m scrolling through my phone for only a few more minutes when we hear, “Good afternoon, Phoenix Airways passengers.”
“Finally,” Thorne whispers and stands up, shouldering his pack. I stand as well.
“Because of mechanical issues that could not be resolved, the flight to New York City has been canceled.”
A groan goes up around us, and I share that sentiment. God, I just want to get back to the frat house so I can unwind.
The attendant says we can either schedule a flight on a different airline or get a voucher for the next day.
Looking at Thorne, I say, “What are you gonna do?”
He shrugs. “Get a hotel for the night. Everyone is probably gonna try to get on another flight. No need to be caught up in that shuffle.”
“Yeah, okay.” I’m not sure if he’s inviting me to join him, but I follow him to the counter anyway to get my ticket for tomorrow’s flight. Then I feel like a clinger for just following him without asking. “Mind if I tag along?”
He looks me up and down, then shrugs. “It’s your funeral, Golden.”