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His wintry scent hits me when he brushes past to open the door, and I nearly sway into him. Fuck, now I’m acting like some clingy chick.
We decide to walk to campus rather than drive, enjoying the brisk winter air. Next to me, Riot looks unfairly hot with his stubble and his tattoos and his long designer coat. He comes across aloof and untouchable, but I’m starting to see another side of him that he only seems to show me when we’re alone.
We make it just before class starts and slide into two seats in the last row. A couple of giggling girls nearby keep trying to catch Riot's eye, but his attention stays locked on me. As the lecture begins, I quickly lose focus. Riot's commanding presence beside me consumes my all of my senses, drawing my eyes to him again and again. The clean lines of his jaw, the way he rolls his fancy pen between his long, tattooed fingers.
Riot catches me staring and leans in close. "See something you like, Hotshot?" he murmurs, lips quirking.
I hold his simmering gaze. "Maybe. Although those chicks seem pretty into the view, too."
Riot glances their way dismissively before focusing back on me. "They're not my type."
"No? And what’s your type, Kensington?" I ask softly.
Riot's eyes darken, dropping to my mouth. "I’m pretty sure you know, but just in case… Blonds with killer hazel eyes."
I shiver at his husky voice. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do know. And it seems I'm far from alone in finding Riot irresistible. Half the people in this school want to fuck him. But for now at least, his attention is all mine.
I force my eyes forward, trying desperately to focus on the lecture and not the electricity ricocheting between Riot and me.
By the time class ends, I'm wound up and so goddamn hard it hurts. I rise and have to adjust myself before the entire room gets a look at my dick. I need to put space between me and Riot before I do something stupid, like shove him up against the wall and—
"Hey, wait up," Riot calls after me. I stop reluctantly, pulse already pounding as he approaches. "Let's grab some lunch. I saw a decent-looking cafe just off campus yesterday."
Everything in me wants to refuse. Being alone with him right now seems like a spectacularly bad idea. But Riot's eyes gleam with that familiar challenge and my traitorous mouth is already agreeing.
Fifteen minutes later, we're seated across from each other in a cozy cafe and this feels a whole fucking lot like a date. I cradle my black coffee, avoiding Riot's intense stare. The soft chatter of other diners and indie music in the background aren't doing anything to relieve the tension.
I clear my throat. "So, uh, how's your bacon and egg sandwich? Looks good."Small talk, Lancaster. Keep it safe.
"Cut the bullshit, London," Riot says bluntly after swallowing a bite. "We gonna talk about what's going on here or just pretend there's nothing between us?"
My jaw clenches. Trust Riot not to tiptoe around the giant fucking elephant between us.
"I mean, there's definitely... something," I hedge. "I just don't know what the hell we're doing, Ri."
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you don’t blow all your roommates, then?”
I flip him off and he laughs.
"Maybe we need to lay it all out there. See where we both stand."
Despite my nerves, I meet his stare. Once we cross this line, there's no going back. But locking away my tangled feelings for Riot is slowly choking me. Maybe the truth will set us free.
"Alright," I breathe. "Cards on the table. But not here."
Riot's eyes darken, reading my intention. He throws some bills down and we head out into the brisk afternoon. I don't know where we're going exactly, just that it needs to be private.
Eventually, we come across a narrow alley running between buildings. Glancing around, I tug Riot into it. He comes willingly, expression unreadable.
Out of sight from prying eyes, I lean back against the brick, heart hammering. Riot braces one hand beside my head, caging me in. His eyes bore into me, waiting.
"Right, confession time," I force out. "Here's the thing. I can't stop thinking about you. About what it all means. About how I want your dick in my mouth again. How I want to kiss you and fucking own you. It's messing with my head and throwing me off my game."
Riot steps closer. "You think it's been easy for me? I can't focus for shit lately with you constantly in my head." His free hand wraps around my throat, inked fingers cold from the air. "I don't know what power you have over me, Lancaster. But I can't resist it anymore. I’m strong, but not strong enough for that."
His quiet admission emboldens me. "Part of me is fucking terrified by this," I confess. "It could change everything if anyone found out." I wet my lips and his eyes track the movement like he’s hunting prey. "But trying to stay away from you isn't working. I don't think I want it to."
Riot's fingers tighten, eyes burning into me. "Are you saying what I think?"
