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Chapter 14
Tristan
Iwalk into my eleven am class and lob my bag onto my chair from halfway across the room.
A couple of heads snap up at the loud noise.
I didn’t sleep well last night. I want to say it’s because of the stress of this year or just good old insomnia, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw images of Nera giving her number to another guy stamped behind my eyelids.
When I eventually fell asleep, I woke up covered in sweat. I blamed it on the late September heat — even though it wasn’t overly hot — and the lack of air conditioning in my shitty apartment, and not the fact that I’d been dreaming about her on a date with someone else.
There was no way I was going to continue letting her haunt my dreams and nightmares like that. If I didn’t have this damn celibacy clause hanging over me like some celeb fresh out of rehab, I could maybe think about finding someone else.
As it were, I was stuck replaying that night in Geneva on a loop in my mind. It didn’t help that she’d gotten the last word after I’d texted her yesterday.
Me:Don't try to make me jealous, Nera. It won’t work.
Nera:Seems like it worked pretty well at the bar that night.
I hadn’t answered, not wanting to acknowledge her point. It wasn’t jealousy that had propelled me to go after her that night. It couldn’t be. I wasn’t possessive of women, ever, let alone interested in anything more than one night.
No, it had been distaste at the thought of losing. That’s it.
Now, I was forced to face her again.
Without looking out into the crowd and searching for her, I knew instinctively where she was sitting. Closer towards the front, the third row in a middle seat. Next to Sixtine, her redheaded best friend.
“Class will start in two minutes, so get seated,” I say to the students still milling about and chatting with their friends.
My phone dings and I reach for it in my bag to put it on silent.
Nera:You should know.
Nera:I’m not wearing any panties.
My eyes shoot up to meet hers as my blood pressure drops. She’s got a triumphant smile on her face but I barely register it because I’m too busy taking in the fact that she’s wearing a fuckingskirt.
The desk she sits at doesn’t have a front panel so there’s nothing to obscure her legs. When she sees me looking, she parts them ever so slightly.
I hiss in a breath as my blood pumps in my temples.
She’s too far away for me to see anything except dark shadows, but just knowing her pussy is on display is enough to throttle the oxygen out of my lungs.
I turn away and claw at the neck of my tie for some type of relief so I don’t do something stupid like drag her down to my desk and fuck her in front of all her peers.
“Alright, today we’re going to talk about the political economy of trade and the role governments play in globalized trade,” I say, forcing myself to look at my outline for the class. The words blur together, my mind unable to focus on them, and I’m silent for too long as I try to decipher what I’m reading. “Open your textbooks to page forty-seven,” I finally say, pivoting to try to salvage this lesson before it’s even started.
I wait for the students to do as instructed, my eyes involuntarily pinging back to Nera. Her book is open so I don’t have a reason to reprimand her but I’m craving one. Her smug smile is still glued on and if I ever get my hands on her again, I’ll fuck it right off her pretty face.
“Who can tell me what globalization as it relates to trade means?” I ask, forcing my eyes to look away.
Several students put their hands up, including her.
“Nera,” I say, my voice dropping an octave around her name. Only she understands the warning that comes with that one word.
I see her swallow and take a tiny breath before she speaks. “The opening of borders for economic and specifically commerce purposes so there’s a flow of goods, money, information. Basically, economic integration of different countries.”
