I rack my brain for the last time I had a hickey, and it must’ve been sometime in early college. Back when I didn’t have to worry about maintaining a professional appearance.
I curse Asher a second time.
When class rolls around on Monday,Asher avoids any sort of eye contact with me. He looks at nearly every other student except for me during his lecture. I can feel my anger getting hotter and hotter. I raise my hand without knowing the answer just to see if he’ll call on me, say my name.
He doesn’t.
His eyes quickly scan over me, and then he calls on someone who had hesitantly raised their hand after me.
My anger reaches an all-new high. I dig my fingernails into my palms and bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from blurting out curse words.
I wasn’t foolish enough to think that what happened on Halloween meant anything. I didn’t think we’d talk in depth about it, or even acknowledge it. But for Asher not to acknowledge me?Again? That stings.
I resist the urge to angrily rub at the spot where he’d left a bruise. I used my most expensive foundation to cover it up this morning. Although maybe if I revealed the hickey, I could actually get a reaction out of him.
My foot taps angrily on the floor, earning me a curious look and raised eyebrow from Sam. “You good?” he whispers.
I nod, trying to stop my leg from shaking and focus on taking any sort of notes from this lecture. I look down at my blank notebook page and scowl. I’ll have to get Sam’s notes from him and make sure I didn’t miss anything important.
Just as I take a deep breath and set my pen to paper, Asher dismisses the class and then quickly turns toward his desk.
He’s really going to pretend nothing happened and that I don’t even exist. Refusing to admit that we made a mistake is fine, but actively ignoring me, refusing to let me participate in class just so that he doesn’t have to look at me or speak to me? Unacceptable.
No way will I let him ignore me again, not after what happened in that bathroom.
I stomp my way toward the front of the classroom as everyone else files out, my heels clack against the floor, giving me a boost of confidence. I wave Sam away and mumble a quick, “I’ll see you later.” Sam must catch on to my poor mood because he just waves and heads out the door without another word.
I plant my feet in front of Asher and put my hands on my hips, waiting for the last few stragglers to leave. He busies himself by shoving stray papers from his desk into his bag, obviously doing his best to ignore me.
When it’s obvious that he’s not going to look at me, let alone say something, I snap. “You left a goddamned hickey on my neck, asshole.” I gesture angrily toward the mark that I had slathered in foundation.
“I don’t see anything,” he scoffs, though he still hasn’t fully looked at me.
“No shit,” I hiss back. “I spent ten minutes trying to cover it up so that no one would notice.” A smug look flits across his face as he finally makes eye contact with me, and my anger boils over. “Do you want me to explain to anyone who asks where I got that from? Because as of right now, I don’t really have a ready-to-use excuse.”
He crosses his arms and scowls at me. “You could always tell everyone it’s from Matt. Should be believable enough since you’ve already gone home with him once.”
A startled laugh escapes me. “My god, you’re jealous.” He shakes his head and lets out an amused snort of disbelief, but I don’t give him the chance to say anything. “You follow me into a bathroom, leave a hickey on my neck, refuse to leave with me, and then have the audacity to be butthurt over the fact that I may have gone home with someone else?” I roll my eyes. “I’m sorry, how old are you? Because I thought I was supposed to be the younger one here.”
“Well, did you?” he asks as he comes around his desk toward me.
“Did I what?” I demand as he starts to circle me.
“Go home with him?” He stops behind me, so close that his breath ghosts across the nape of my neck.
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I snap, spinning toward him.
His hand shoots out and grips my throat. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but he does hold me firmly enough that I can’t easily move away. I watch in shock as he licks the pad of his thumb and rubs at the spot on my neck where he’d been sucking on just two days prior. I can tell the moment the foundation rubs away, and he can see the still-dark bruise marring my skin. Desire leaks through his gaze, and he bites his lip, attempting to hide a smug smile.
“When I look at this, it feels like it might be my business,” he growls.
I push him away from me, making him release his hold on my neck. “Just because you got excited and left a hickey on me like a teenager, does not mean it is any of your business what I do with anyone else.”
He crowds closer to me, following me as I step back until I bump into his desk. “What if I told you I did it on purpose? That I wanted to make sure that anyone else who was with you would know that someone else had been there first?”
“I would say that’s incredibly immature,” I sniff. “And risky considering you’re my professor.”
“If you tell me the look on Matt’s face when he noticed it, I’ll consider it worth the risk.”
