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The oven timer beeped, interrupting the showdown. “I need to get that,” I murmured.
Amir bent over me, bringing his face close to mine. “What did you say?”
“The oven beeped. I have to take the lasagna from the oven.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “I don’t know if I want lasagna for dinner. Maybe you should start over.”
With a shake of his head, Julien spun around, grabbed a towel, and took the lasagna out himself. He placed it on top of the stove, gave me a chin jerk, then walked out of the kitchen. Marco let out a long groan and followed, leaving me with Amir, who released me and stalked to the oven.
I held my breath, expecting him to dump the lasagna in the trash. My heart might have broken a little if he did. This recipe was my mom’s, and I knew just how delicious it was. He didn’t throw it away. Instead, he dipped his head, inhaling the steam coming from the melted cheese and bubbling sauce, then turned around to face me again.
“You can skip cooking tomorrow. I need you somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“A lecture at Brady Hall. I want you to go take notes for me.”
My lips parted in surprise. That was unexpected. “Um…well, okay. I can do that.”
“They have to be thorough, Zadie. I need to be able to write a report on the lecture like I was there.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “That’s no problem.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth and rocked back on his heels. “You can go.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. Scrambling, I stuffed my laptop in my messenger back and hopped down from the stool, smoothing my skirt in the process. At the arch between the kitchen and front hall, I paused, bracing a hand on the molding.
“Amir?”
His eyes were already on me. “Speak.”
My tongue darted out to wet my lips. “I can take a lot. I’ll come here every day and clean and cook for you without complaint. But if you ever touch me that way in front of your friends again, I won’t come back. I’d rather face Reno than be touched in that way.” I nodded, my message conveyed, even if it was barely above a whisper. Spinning on my toes, I marched out of the house, my head held high.
Amir may have thought of me as his personal pet. And maybe I was. But the thing about pets? When even the shyest ones were mistreated, they bit back. My bark was quiet, but my bite could be wicked.
MyCaptor:Text me a pic of you at Brady Hall.
I’d only just sat down. The chairs around me in the auditorium were quickly filling. Everyone was in pairs or groups, but I was all by myself. That was fine. Since my notes needed to be meticulous, I wouldn’t have time to talk to anyone anyway.
I took a picture and sent it to Amir.
Me:I’m here. Since I’ll be taking the best notes you’ve ever seen, I might not be able to text back immediately, so you should leave me alone.
MyCaptor:Wow, you’re incredibly mean, Zadie.
Me:Is this you leaving me alone?
Someone slid past me and dropped into the only chair left in my row—the one right next to me. I stuffed my phone in my bag and opened my laptop, preparing a new document for my notes. The person leaned into me, his biceps pressing against mine.
“Hey.”
I turned my head, frowning at Deacon Forrester. He was invading my personal space. And smelled faintly of alcohol. Fortunately, he seemed to be alone, no laughing frat bros at his back. That made me wonderwhyhe was bothering to speak to me, since he didn’t have an audience, but I couldn’t exactly ignore him since he was right beside me.
“Hi.”
His grin was wide, and seemed genuine, which only made my stomach lurch. Why would this guy be genuinely smiling at me?
“Are you in business analytics? I know you’re not in my class.”
