They won’t simply be connected to the mafia.
They will become it.
As I keep walking, I push those thoughts aside, only for another unpleasant one to take their place.
Because I couldn’t help noticing the time on my phone.
And it is already eight.
I hate the way my stomach drops because of it.
I tend to lose track of time when I am on the ice, but tonight that was very much intentional.
Because Hunter, or rather Mr Wardgrave, has asked me to come to his place at seven.
Demanded would be the more accurate word.
And just thinking about it sends a wave of anger through me.
Which is very unlike me.
I am not an angry person. If anything, I am usually the calmest one in the room.
But the audacity of that man…
Who exactly does he think he is, demanding I come to his room?
What does he even expect to happen? That I will simply take my clothes off and fall into bed with him again?
Ridiculous.
Really.
It is possible he wanted to talk…
I immediately shake the thought away.
We have absolutely nothing to discuss.
What happened between us was a one-time thing, and now we move on with our lives like sensible adults.
He needs to understand that.
Maybe that sort of thing is not part of my usual behaviour, but I am quite certain it is part of his. Men like Hunter are probably very accustomed to one night stands.
Which means he should understand perfectly well what this was.
And if he somehow doesn’t, I will gladly point it out to him in the dictionary.
Because clearly the man seems confused.
By the time I arrive outside my dorm, my plan is simple. Avoid him like the plague.
Which, admittedly, will not be particularly easy considering he is my professor and I will be forced to see him almost every day in class.
Part of me briefly considers skipping those lectures altogether.
But knowing how domineering he can be, I wouldn’t put it past him to fail me out of sheer spite.
