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“Well I can assure you with every fiber in my being that he has not hurt me,” I say, then add, “And actually, I’d be kind of into it in a rough-during-sexy-time way.”
She makes a noise of disbelief and maybe irritation. But before I can go on, my steps slow and I come to a stop at the back of her car.
There it is again. The feeling of being watched, of being trailed or like someone is breathing against the back of my neck. I turn, unable to stop myself, and scan the street and both sides of it, only to find nothing and no one. Am I imagining this?
“Are you coming?” Juniper asks, getting into the driver’s side of her car and turning the key in the ignition.
I don’t reply. Not while I’m still standing frozen, searching the darkness for anything out of place. My eyes rest on a large tree that casts a multitude of spindly shadows, thanks to the light on the house behind it. For a moment, I feel like I can justsee someone standing against it, in the darkest shadows of the trunk.
But when I blink, the edges of a figure are gone and it’s just me, my mostly-clear vision, and the St. Augustine night. I’m alone, and as I look around once more, the feeling of unease seems to fade a little bit until, finally, it feels like nothing was wrong at all.
Maybe I am drunk. With that thought and a sigh released from parted lips, I open the passenger door and slide into her car, ready for the verbal take down I’m going to get for being so irresponsible and letting Oliver seduce me when I’m drunk. Not that it’ll matter, because sheiswrong about this. I’ve liked Oliver for longer than tonight, and it’s not like he’s been waiting around to take advantage of my moment or weakness, or something equally as unbelievable.
Not that she’ll believe me.
Chapter 13
When my eyes lock with Oliver’s and I see him on what I’m starting to callourcouch, I feel a flush of embarrassment that I’m sure shows on my face. It’s weird to know that heknows. To have him tip me and send me messages during and after my stream. Last night there were a few times I’d felt almost like I wanted to throw on my t-shirt and end the stream.
But I hadn’t. Still, the thought makes me squirm even as I sit down beside him and let him throw an arm over my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice soft and considerate.
“I’m kind of embarrassed,” I admit, looking up at him with slightly-wide eyes. “Sorry.”
“About what?” The confusion in his voice feels genuine, and yet again I wonder how it’s so easy for him to flip on a dime when he’s talking to my roommate instead of me. “About…?” he trails off, his brows rising as his smile lessens like he’s worried he’s done something to upset me.
“I just. I don’t know. You’ve seeneverythingof me. You know way more than my boyfriends ever did,” I admit quietly. “I feellike you’ll think less of me, or I should be more upset that you watch me like other guys.”
“Don’t be.” His words are firm, and sweet, and he presses his nose against my cheek. “Jeez, wonder girl. Have a little faith in me. I do the same thing you do, so who would I be to judge? I don’t, in case you’re confused. Ilikewatching you. I like seeing other guys want you so fucking bad they’re willing to upend their life’s savings for you.”
“I don’t think anyone is upending their savings for me,” I snort. “Apart from you and that other guy,Thrillingterror, people barely tip me more than five dollars or so.”
He’s quieter than I expect while he thinks about it, and instead of answering, he kisses my cheek and draws a surprised laugh from my lips. “Were you okay on Saturday night? I didn’t get a chance to really talk to you about it yesterday. Was Juniper mad at you?”
“Nah, but she’s pretty mad at you,” I retort lightly. “Maybe you should watch your back when you tutor with her. She might stab you with a pencil.”
“I don’t think she would,” he promises absently. “But I’ve been worried you were more drunk than you said, and more than I thought you were. I would’ve felt incredibly bad if I’d taken advantage of you, or that you regretted kissing me.”
How could I ever regret anything about him? I stare up into the older boy’s face, unable to hide the smile curling over my features. “I wasn’t very drunk,” I assure him. “You didn’t take advantage of me in any way, all right?”
Before he can respond, I pause. My lips are parted enough that I’m sure I look like a fish gasping for water, but when a shudder goes through me in response to the hair at the back of my neck prickling, I can’t say anything. Instead I turn, half nervous and half accusatory, until my eyes find Professor Solomon’s.
Of course he’s the source of my misgivings and my anxieties. He always is. Sucking in a breath, I meet his harsh, dark gaze and hold it, like I’m not afraid of him failing me or anything else. Though, I do suddenly wonder what he’ll think of the new camera I’m bringing to class today. Not that we normally need to bring themtoclass. More than anything, I’ve been wanting to show it to Oliver.
Professor Solomon might not even notice it, truth be told.
He blinks, looking like he’s fighting the urge to roll his eyes, and strides toward his classroom like he’s walking down a runway. I hate him, obviously, but it would be impossible not to appreciate his gorgeouseverything.
I even hear Oliver give a little sigh, and I turn to look at him only to see him watching our professor as well. “It’s a shame he’s so pretty,” Oliver says without trying to keep his voice as quiet as I feel he should. Though, if he’s heard, Professor Solomon doesn’t even look over. “No one that mean should be allowed to be so gorgeous.”
Snorting, I get to my feet. Professor Solomon’s arrival into the classroom always means that it’s time to go in, since he barely gets there more than five minutes before class starts. I don’t go too close, however, as he unlocks the door and fumbles with his keys for a moment. It’s strange to see him nearly drop them, since I had thought only mere mortals did such things.
As if hearing me, Professor Solomon turns to look at me as the door opens, his expression anything but friendly. I still hold his gaze, feeling better with Oliver at my back, and relax slightly when our professor turns his glare on him instead.
And then he’s gone, slamming his bag onto his desk, and it’s easier to breathe without the stain of his disdain in the air. I walk over to sit down at my spot at the U-shaped set up, Oliver beside me and scooting the chair closer than it really needs to be.
“I got a new camera,” I admit, setting my backpack down gently onto the floor. “I wish I knew more about it, but I think it’s a nice one?”
