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“I missed you,” she whispers, her voice marked with a hint of something I can’t let sink inside of me.
She’s already caused so many problems for me. The last thing I need is more.
I clench the steering wheel, refusing to speak to her. It doesn’t stop my eyes from darting in her direction when she shifts on the seat. Buzzed or not, she’s well aware of what she’s doing to me.
“What would’ve happened if I wasn’t here tonight?” I growl, hating that she doesn’t even have to say a word to make me speak to her.
I feel rather than actually see her smile. She’s still playing a game, and it seems I’m the one in last place.
“I guess I’d be a few minutes away from fucking a frat guy.”
I swear I crack several molars from how hard I clench my teeth together.
Lucky for her, I’m pulling into the parking lot of her dorm.
She opens her mouth to argue when I climb out, circle around the truck, and pull open her door.
Her eyes narrow, and the woman must be clinically insane to challenge me after what she just said in the fucking truck.
I grip her arm, refusing to loosen my grip when she winces.
She barely gets her feet under her before falling, but a few scraped knees is the least of her fucking worries right now.
She fights against me, grumbling about being manhandled as I drag her toward the front door of her building.
“Enter the fucking code,” I snap. For the first time, she listens to me without me having to issue a threat.
She reaches her hand out but forces me to grab the door when the door clicks, revealing that it’s unlocked.
I step just inside the door with her, but don’t make it very far before I’m stopped.
“Sir,” a girl behind a desk in the corner says. “You aren’t allowed in here after eleven.”
All dorms on Lindell University campus used to be co-ed, but it changed after the abduction of the college girl at the beginning of the last semester. Female students got with the dean and voiced how they no longer felt safe with men having access to their building, and the college was quick to fix that for them.
I growl at the woman, watching her cringe in fear.
If only Alani was just as scared of me, I might be able to get the woman to listen to my warnings.
“Get to your room and go the fuck to sleep,” I command, hating the way she reaches for me when I shove her away.
She looks as pissed as she did the morning she slapped me right across the face. As she walks away without argument, I shove down the disappointment that she doesn’t open her mouth to spew hatred my way.
Chapter 11
Alani
Blakely clicks closed a window on her computer screen the second I step into the room.
“Smooth,” I say in a droll tone.
Her cheeks pink, and the embarrassment staining them is almost enough to make me forget what an asshole Donavan was a few minutes ago.
“You’re back early,” she says, not giving a voice to the accusation in my stare.
“My babysitter showed up,” I mumble, spinning in the room and falling back on my bed.
I screech when I nearly miss and land on the floor, having misjudged the distance.
Maybe I’m more than a little buzzed.
“I told you, you’re imagining things.”
I brought it up once that I felt like I was being watched, and at first she was creeped out. I don’t know a single girl on campus who didn’t start looking over their shoulders after that girl’s abduction. When I told her it felt like Donavan, she all but said I was crazy.
“He literally stepped out of the shadows tonight and scared Bradley away.”
“Really?” There’s a hint of disbelief in her voice. “He may have helped more than you know.”
I narrow my eyes at her, kicking my foot off the side of the bed and pressing it into the floor to make the room stop spinning.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Haven’t you heard the rumors about Bradley?”
I shake my head, realizing the mistake of it when the room spins faster a little too late.
“Some of the football guys were talking about it.”
I sit up on my bed and glare at her.
“Some of the football guys? You hang out with football guys?”
My roommate is the quiet type. I know she has plenty of opportunities to be around all sorts of athletes here at Lindell because she works for the college newspaper, but every time I’ve ever seen her working, she’s hiding behind the camera rather than experiencing life on the other side of it.
“I had a shoot with a couple of them,” she says with a shrug of her shoulders.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Football season ended weeks ago.”
“It was for the championship.”
