Chapter 38
Nix
There are only two other cars in the employee lot when I turn off my engine.
The emptiness is not a surprise. It’s barely seven. And even if my class started at eight, not ten, I wouldn’t show up for another thirty minutes.
That’s what I would do in a normal world.
In a world where my blood isn’t thrumming with something that feels a lot like magic.
In a world where I didn’t tell a vampire he’s my mate while his ridiculously big dick was ruining me.
In that world, I would have slept in, made coffee, read on my couch. Then I would’ve showered, gotten dressed, and come to campus a half hour before my class started.
But… at least I made coffee.
I glance down at my plastic travel cup and sigh.
My thermos and dirty mug are still sitting on my desk, waiting for me to clean them. And possibly pack them up with the rest of my belongings.
With thoughts of losing my job, I grab the extra tote I threw in my car and shove it into my bag alongside my laptop. I’ll spend my morning packing or researching.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I snag my coffee, then climb out of my car.
As I shut the door, I try to picture Volik sitting in my pale blue station wagon. But I fail.
Pretty sure his horns would stick through the roof.
Then I picture getting a car with a sunroof. Volik’s head sticking out the top. Wind blowing through his hair. The sun glinting off his shiny horns. And the first smile of the day tugs at my lips before I shove it away.
Volik isn’t my pet.
He’s my mate.
I press my lips together and keep walking.
Not going there.
Not right now.
I continue down the path, keeping my eyes forward, not looking around. Too nervous to accidentally make eye contact with someone.
Not that I see anyone else walking around. But I’m under no illusion that yesterday’s events have gone unnoticed.
I sigh.
Even if, by some miracle, I don’t get fired, I’ll still need to spend time this week searching for second jobs. It will take every cent of my wages and then some to pay for the damage done to the building.
A breeze blows my hair back as I make a turn around the corner of a building. And it feels good.
I dressed… conservatively. Jeans. My boots. And a thick brown turtleneck sweater. Covering as much of my skin as possible. As if that will remove the temptation to bare my neck to Volik should he show up again.
But my best intentions have backfired. Because now I’m hot.
With the hand not holding my coffee, I shove my sleeve up to my elbow. The knitted material bunches, then immediately slides back down.
My nostrils flare in frustration.
It’s like Volik’s warmth has soaked into my bones and is heating me from the inside out.
I lift my chin, trying to get some air to flow down the high neckline.
It doesn’t work.
Taking a slow breath, I keep my steps relaxed.
Just get to my room.
I can strip down to my tank top and cool off before class starts.
Assuming I’m still teaching today.
It’s Wednesday, so it’s my Investigative Journalism day. I have the same class again Friday. And both days I teach the same curriculum at ten and at one.
Hopefully, the students are chill like the ones I had yesterday in my Tuesday/Thursday Ethics in Journalism classes.
Thinking about it, I bet I’ll recognize a lot of the students today from yesterday. Most of the kids in my classes are journalism majors who are required to take both courses.
Nothing says ethics like almost fucking a stranger in your classroom.
I take the final turn and slow.
Parked on the lawn in front of the Bates Hall is a pickup truck with Stalden University painted down the side.
Is this security?
Am I going to be escorted off the property?
My steps slow even more.
Can I be arrested for what we did?
I’m about to stop when I notice the man standing at the front door. Or rather, fixing the front door.
His body blocks my view of what he’s doing, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s in the process of replacing the glass pane in the door.
One of many things Volik broke with his power.
Yes, Volik. This is his fault. He can take the blame.
Squaring my shoulders, pretending I’m not about to throw up from nerves, I keep walking.
“Morning!” I try for cheerful, but it comes out squeaky, causing the man to startle and drop his screwdriver. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry!” I rush forward and bend down to pick up his screwdriver. But I forgot to close the lid on my travel tumbler, so hot coffee pours out onto the downed tool.
“Shit.” I straighten. “I am so sorry.”
The man chuckles. “No worries, miss.”
He looks to be in his thirties. Has a mustache. And he’s wearing a zip-up jacket, sporting the school logo with the word Maintenance embroidered below it.
He pulls a towel out of his pocket and uses that to pick up and dry off the screwdriver.
I grimace. “I really am sorry.” For the spill… For the broken door… I don’t get specific.
“Honestly, don’t worry about it.” He turns to face me fully. “You got some, uh, coffee…”
I look down and see that I have some of the dark liquid clinging to my lighter brown sleeve. “Oh. Crap.”
The man reaches out with the towel, like he’s going to dry it off for me.
“Nope!” A deep voice practically shouts the word as one of the unbroken doors is shoved open.
I shriek and stumble back a step, splashing more coffee onto my sweater.
“Apologies, Ms. Novak.”
My eyes snap up to meet the dean’s. And a choked sound leaves my throat.
The dean. Who saw me clinging to Volik while the vampire had a fingertip teasing my vagina.
Gods, let me sink into the earth where I stand.
He just grins at me, then turns to the maintenance guy. “I’m telling you this to save your life. Do not touch that woman.”
The guy’s features scrunch for a moment, then his eyes widen, and the color drains from his face. “Oh. Right. Okay.”
It takes me an extra second to get it. And when I do, my cheeks heat.
Volik.
I move my gaze back to the dean, who seems to be fighting a grin.
That’s… a good sign?
I try for my most normal-looking smile. “Good morning… Sir.” My smile wavers when I don’t know what to call him.
He lets the grin win. “Morning.” Then he tips his head, gesturing to the building. “Your room is all set. Why don’t you go in and clean up before that coffee soaks in?”
“Good idea.” I chuckle, and it sounds as awkward as I feel.
“And maybe… relax?” He’s still grinning.
Relax?
I glance down to where my empty hand is pressed against my chest.
Over my heart that’s still thudding from when the dean startled me.
I drop my hand and take a deep breath. “Will do.”
If our hearts really do beat together, the last thing I want is Volik thinking something is wrong.
The dean pulls the good door open and holds it for me. “Watch your step in there. The floor guys are coming tonight, so it’s a patch job for now.”
“Okay.” My cheeks are probably neon red by this point.
Just chatting with my boss about the floor tiles that broke because of my make-out session.
I mutter out a thanks as I slip into the building and immediately see the patchwork of duct tape on the floor.
Many of the floor tiles are cracked, if the tape lines are anything to go by. And one of the tiles has cardboard taped down over the entire square with a yellow Wet Floor sign propped up in the middle to keep people off it.
The polite part of me wants to go back outside and apologize for the damage. But… this feels like one of those the less said, the better situations. And if the dean is letting me keep my job, I’m not going to push my luck.