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What I get in response is a glare and an eye roll. “And what, it’s not yours?”
Mild surprise has my brow shooting up. I hadn’t expected him to engage.
“Oh, I’m a top through and through. Doesn’t mean I don’t like switching it up now and then.”
His gaze slowly roams to me, quizzical and intense before he sighs and wanders over to the second, unoccupied desk next to mine. He passes his hand over the wood, stopping at a little blue pill container labeled with the days of the week.
“The bottles are in the drawer. Atlas wanted to get you set up for a good start.”
He rummages through the drawer, and the kind of soft look I’ve only ever seen him use with Atlas comes over his face.
“Once a day and once a week,” he mutters, fingering something in the drawer before closing it. “You wanted to tell me more about my probation, right?”
I nod, watching as he leans his hip on the desk and crosses his arms. Defensive but not combative.
“We have some ground rules. Some set by administration, and some set by me.”
He glares but doesn’t refute.
“Drug tests are at least once a month, starting tomorrow.” When he doesn’t show any kind of negative response, I continue. “There could be more. Up to the school’s discretion.”
“Fun.” He rolls his tongue over his teeth and clicks it.
I drum my fingers on the laptop lid. “I’ll watch you take your pills every morning. You go to class and keep me in the loop wherever you go after.”
That makes him frown. Makes his jaw tick. “Excuse me?”
“Just shoot me a text so I know you aren’t out getting high. School’s rules, not mine. Hell, if you really wanted to, you could lie. But on that note…”
I swivel the chair and stand, hands in my pocket, towering over him in a way that either intimidates or… ah, that’s surprising. Arouses.
Shiloh’s eyes are wide and dark, even as he keeps his expression neutral. The interest is there, even if he hates it.
“You’re going to stick with me. We’ll keep doing self defense together, but you’re going to help me out with RA duties, too.”
The flare of his nostrils tell me a fight is coming.
“Fuck you, Morales.”
“You keep saying that.” I step forward, perplexed and intrigued by the desire in his heated stare. “I’m going to take it as an invitation.”
With a shake of his head, he breaks eye contact. For a few seconds, he stares at the opposite wall, then audibly sighs and pushes off the desk.
“I’m not letting you bait me. You wanna watch me like a hawk? Cool. Fine. Where’s the sign out sheet like I’m asking for a bathroom pass in high school?”
I pretend to examine the mess of papers on my desk and shrug. “Must not have printed it out yet.”
He rolls his eyes and scrubs a hand over his face. “How do I know when you need me around?”
“Because you’ve got so many better places to be?” I swear I hear a growl this time and bite back my smile. “I’ll text you. There will be a weekly schedule on the whiteboard, too.”
On the wall between our desks is a whiteboard, with an array of markers in a cup on mine.
“You anal about organization or some shit?”
“Nope.” I walk towards him, enjoying the way his body tenses and how his breaths stutter at my proximity. “I like having control is all.”
It’s too bad I can’t tell him that my number one fantasy is having control of him. Of that snarky mouth and that lean, fit body.
