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Toying with her, I stop walking, putting one foot behind me. “I think you were right. I’ll let you find your way back. I’ll take the long way.”
“No!” she blurts out, her voice shaking. “It’s fine. We’re almost there anyway.”
Internally laughing, I shrug my shoulders and keep on at her side. So predictable, yet so fun.
Riley doesn’t say anything, nor do I. We walk in silence until the lampposts surrounding the campus square come into view. Minutes later, we’re back on campus.
Bypassing my dorm, I keep walking with her. I’m not sure why, but I do. She doesn’t draw attention to my shadow, so I don’t bring it up either because I’m not confident my response wouldn’t make me appear desperate. Although, that’s what I feel when I’m near her. Desperation, temptation, and a tinge of lechery. The desire to be in her presence is insatiable. I want more than anything to hold on to the emotions that surface when she’s around—only her. No one else has this effect on me. Then there is the sick part of me that wants to be the sole reason tears pool in her eyes. It’s a satisfaction I can’t explain and I can only surmise it’s because I want to be the one to also dry them.
Strange things are happening to my mind and body, but at least it’s something. So, once again, I’ll count it as a win.
Riley keeps on walking until her foot lands on the first step of her dormitory. She doesn't turn around, just stares straight ahead at the double doors. “Goodbye, Lev.” Her tone is barren but stained with irritation.
I don’t say goodbye because I hate the word. It’s too traditional—too formal, and I can promise her, this is not goodbye.
CHAPTER7
RIDGE
Should’ve fucking known.My muscles quiver as I throw the paper bag in my hand against the side of the Willamette House. The bowl collides with the concrete and the lid pops off. Broccoli cheese soup painting the brick.Her favorite soup.
My pounding heartbeat is no match for the heat flushing through my body. Anger ripples through my core as I watch the light in her room come on.
She lied. Not to me, but she told Maddox she wasn’t feeling well. My first thought was, ‘I’ll do anything to make her feel better,’ because the thought of Riley being ill is unbearable. I searched everywhere. Called her over a dozen times and each time I got her voicemail. Even listened to the entire recording each time just to hear her voice, then left a message in hopes hearing mine would brighten her night. Until the last couple, when worry began setting in. Each message was more and more aggressive, loaded with threats and insults because I was mad. I immediately wanted to get into her phone and erase them before she listened, but now, I’m calling her again to tell her I have no regrets.
“Answer the fucking phone,” I mutter as I watch her shadow dance behind the shear curtain on her window.
Rage engulfs me when I get her voicemail again.
“Hey, it’s Riley. I can’t get to my phone right now, but if you leave a message, I might call you back. Or I might not.”
Beeeep.
“Why the fuck were you with him? What did you do? Where did you go? Why are you ignoring my calls?!” I take a deep breath, attempting to compose myself as I lower my tone. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” I tsk. “You’re testing me.” Then when I see her beside the window, looking down at her phone and still making no attempt to call me back, I lose it and grip the phone with both hands, screaming into the speaker, “Quit fucking testing me!”
Her head pops up quickly from being within earshot of my outburst, and she pulls back the curtain. Hurriedly, she shoves the windowsill up. She looks beautiful, as always. A sense of calm washes over me, but it’s short-lived.
“Ridge!” she snaps. “What in the world are you doing down there, and why are you shouting?”
One glance at her hand confirms she saw my call come through and chose to ignore it. My chest rises and falls at warp speed, my jaw aching from the tight clench of my teeth. “I’m coming up.”
Before she can respond, I round the building and jog quickly up the cement steps. The doors don’t lock until midnight, so I’m able to enter without using the key I stole.
I’m met at the staircase by Riley. Her hair is down, the natural waves showcasing her highlights, and the streak of purple in the front. Wide eyes greet me as she stops halfway down. “It’s late, Ridge. Please just go home and we can talk tomorrow.”
I keep walking up, closing the space between us one step at a time, until I’m standing on the one just beneath her. I reach out, touching her waist gently, and that’s all it takes to pacify the fury inside me. “Tell me what he wanted with you, Angel.”
I swear to all that is holy, if he laid one finger on her, I will chop all ten of his digits off before tossing them in the rubble of ash I’ve formed with the victims I’ve killed for this girl.
“We just went for a walk. That’s all.”
I’ve watched Riley long enough to know when she’s nervous. The slightest flare of her nostrils. Her avoidance of eye contact. And when her gaze casts over my shoulder, I know she’s lying.
“I thought you were sick.”
Her lips roll—another nervous tic. “I’m feeling better.”
I walk into her, forcing her to move up the steps, backward. My hands never leave her hips as I spin her around at the top and guide her toward her room.
