Page 44 of Stranger to Love

“I expect you to maintain that exact standard for the remainder of the academic year while you sit in my classes,” she continued, her tone dropping into a firm, unyielding register. “As major deadlines approach, library resources become heavily congested. You cannot afford to have your academic velocity compromised by a lack of hardware, Alex. You need to remain on top of your output.”

Her logic was flawless, but it did nothing to quiet the chaos in my brain. She had bought me a laptop. For my birthday. Who the hell was this woman? I wasn’t wired for this. I was used to fighting for every scrap of security I possessed. I was always the hunter, the one who pursued, the one who kept people off-balance and second-guessing themselves. It was highly entertaining when I did it; it was deeply unsettling to have the tables turned.

If I refused it now, she would either destroy my academic career or be genuinely insulted, and I couldn't risk fracturing whatever dangerous, unnameable thing was growing between us.

I chewed my lip, offering a tight, forced nod. “Thank you.”

A microscopic twitch of her lips betrayed her satisfaction. She had won. “You're welcome.” She returned her gaze to her screen, her fingers resuming their work.

I stood up, tentatively lifting the heavy black bag, feeling like I was wielding a live weapon. I glanced toward the exit, then back to her, feeling the sudden urge to re-establish my boundaries. I pulled up my standard defence mechanism, pasting on a sharp, provocative grin. “So... will I be seeing you tonight?”

The typing ceased. Dr. Carter slowly lifted her head, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

“I cannot have my highest-performing student risking a walk home in the dark,” she said dryly, her voice dripping with an almost mocking indifference. “If your safety is compromised, my module ranking will experience an inconvenient dip.”

Highest-performing student. The words sent a bolt of heat straight to my core. I smirked, my confidence surging as I took a deliberate step forward, leaning over the edge of her glass desk, entering her airspace. “Sounds to me like you’re just inventing excuses to see me, Dr. Carter.”

The air in the room instantly solidified.

Dr. Carter stood up. The movement was explosive, her hands slamming flat against the polished wood as she towered over me. I didn’t flinch. I couldn't. I remained locked in place, matching her lethal gaze as she leaned across the divide. She was so close I could feel the warm radiation of her breath against my cheek.

When she spoke, her voice was a low, vibrating frequency—too soft to be an open threat, but she possessed a structural force that hit me squarely in the gut.

“You need to remember exactly who you are speaking to.”

The desk felt entirely inadequate, a fragile sheet of glass keeping an absolute collapse at bay. I was entirely breathless, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs as the familiar, intoxicating cocktail of terror and arousal flooded my nervous system.

My breath hitched as her lips curved into a slow, dark smirk that promised absolute ruin. Her voice dropped into a dangerous whisper, branding the word into my skin:

“Darling.”

My mind went entirely blank, consumed by a dizzying, primal urge to close the remaining inches between our lips. My muscles were taut, pinned beneath the crushing weight of her proximity. I thought she was either going to take me right here on the polished glass, or utterly dismantle my existence with a single sentence.

Then came the execution. She held my gaze for one final, paralysing second, ensuring her control was absolute.

“Leave,” she whispered.

The spell shattered instantly, the sudden rush of blood leaving my head spinning.

I blinked, forcing my leaden limbs to move as I pulled back from her space. I tightened my white-knuckled grip on the silk handles of the laptop bag and took a clumsy, destabilised step toward the door. I didn't trust my vocal cords, so I didn't bother trying to speak. I managed a single, shaky nod, turned on my heel, and walked out, leaving the office door slightly ajar behind me.

I practically fled down the corridor, my mind a chaotic loop of her voice. You need to remember exactly who you are speaking to. Darling. Leave.

For a split second, a desperate instinct told me to go track down the blonde TA—to find her in a vacant seminar room and use her body to erase the psychological damage Dr. Carter had just inflicted. I shook my head, forcing my shoulders to drop. No. I couldn't keep using that woman as a human coping mechanism every time Dr. Carter mangled my brain.

Jesus fuck, I could not wait for her to pick me up tonight.

I practically ran into the university library, navigating to a secluded booth in the far back corner. I slid onto the bench, dropping the matte-black bag beside me as if it were unexploded ordnance. I needed to focus on the Business Management coursework, but my hands were trembling.

I stared at the bag for five solid minutes. I had tried to say no. I had fought the charity. But that fleeting hint of uncertainty in her eyes—the sudden reality that my refusal actually mattered to her—had completely disarmed me. I had a massive chip on my shoulder, but I wasn't an idiot. I wasn't going to reject a tool that could secure my future.

With a heavy sigh, I pulled the box onto the desk and lifted the laptop out. It was thin, surprisingly heavy, and freezing cold beneath my fingertips. I flipped the screen open and pressed the power button.

As the display flickered to life, a strange, unfamiliar sensation bloomed in the centre of my chest, spreading through my veins like warm ink. It was an invasive, terrifyingly intimate feeling of being completely seen, completely protected, and entirely cared for. It made me feel profoundly, utterly sick.

I violently pushed the laptop away from me.

Get a fucking grip, Alex. It’s just metal and plastic and circuitry. It’s a tool.