Page 134 of Lessons in Cruelty

I cringe. “Yeah?”

As I suspected, Teagan has no problem letting me leave early, but she’s nosy as hell about why I’m missing a shift.

“Girl, you going on a date?” She has a hand on one hip, cocking an eyebrow like I’ve got some explaining to do.

My laugh is instant, and near falsetto.

This is definitely not a date.

Haven Lee doesn’t date.

Haven Lee doesn’t even have sex with anything that’s not battery operated because Kai shattered Haven Lee’s heart into so many pieces that she’s never been able to glue it back together again.

But I wanted to look nice, because then I feel confident.

That’s why I pull onto the shoulder minutes away from Bastian’s house and change into my slightly faded black maxi dress, my boots, and my best underwear.

Confidence always seems in short supply around my professor.

Only when I’m almost in front of Bastian’s house do I realize I’ll be parking beside his Tesla. It felt shitty that first day of college. Especially after driving past a row of high-end Land Rovers, Mercs, and BMWs.

It feels even shittier now.

When he opens the door in an apron, I freeze. Not because it’s so unexpectedly domestic, but because his eyes do that thing again. A slow, possessive scan from my boots to my face that makes me feel like his prey. And I’ve just willingly walked straight back into his trap.

“I was wondering if you’d gotten lost.” His smile is warm, inviting.

And wrong.

Everything about this is wrong.

“Traffic,” I lie.

“At seven PM? In Agony Hollow?” He steps aside, and I catch his scent—expensive cologne, body wash, and that delicious manly scent that’s purely Professor Bastian Rooke. “Stop lying and come inside.”

I’d let him come inside. He wouldn’t even have to ask.

Jesus, Haven! Mind out of the fucking gutter, please!

He steps aside and ushers me in with a sweep of his hand. The symbolism isn’t lost on me when I step over his threshold.

I’m crossing a line tonight.

And, sure, I could argue this handsome man with his impossibly intelligent eyes and fleeting smile lured me here…but am I any less a victim for succumbing?

“Long day?”

I shake my head, give him an awkward smile, and tread deeper inside his house.

He’s wearing a white dress shirt rolled up to mid-arm and moss green pants beneath the apron. Casual, but smart. There’s jazz playing on his home speaker system. The fireplace is lit. And I swear that vase of white lilies wasn’t here when I left earlier today.

Maybe this is a date.

“You’re frowning.” He closes the door behind me, then gives another wave of his hand. “Please. Enough with the decorum. We’re well past the stage where you should feel uncomfortable walking through my front door.” He makes a point of glancing toward the garden where he found me waiting last night. “Or the back.”

“Okay,” I say through a laugh, holding up my hand. “I need you to pretend that never happened.”

He tilts his head, curling one side of his mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”