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The door closes softly and then it’s quiet. It’s just us left in this room, but I don’t look up. I take my time organizing the papers and putting them away in my bag.
She’s as patient as I am, unwilling to make the first move as I force her to wait.
Everything about her is a contradiction. She’s a good student, but rebellious. Delicate, but powerful. Shy, but brazen.
Successful, but not satisfied.
She has wealth, beauty, brains, and success. She should be the happiest person in any room and yet, she’s not.
It ripples off her, the melancholy. Like she has an invisible but gaping wound that seeps sorrow instead of blood.
There’s something hidden there, that much is obvious to me. She’s someone whose real smiles need to be earned and I find myself hoping to get another unguarded moment from her.
At the same time, there’s the part of me that knows going there again is tantamount to yanking the noose lethally tight around my neck.
But watching her with someone else isn’t just intolerable, it’s impossible.
Finally, I straighten and look at her. My eyes pin hers, but her gaze stares equally intently back at me.
“Is he the ex?”
The one she’d mentioned who couldn’t make her come. But who’d been with her nonetheless.
She blinks, doesn’t look away. “Yes.”
I drop my gaze back to the desk, masking my grimace.
There’s no hiding the sound of my clenched fist when it comes down on the wooden surface, however. I don’t hit it hard, just sharply enough to let out some barely controlled anger because I can’t lose my shit. Not without risking my mum’s life.
I breathe deeply through my nose as I fight to keep the visions of her splayed out under him out of my mind.
Her legs around his waist.
His hand on her tits.
FUCK.
The jealous rage squeezes my skull like a band. I need her to leave.
“He’s going tostayyour ex,” I order.
Anger distorts my words. I say it as a demand, not a question, but she answers it anyway.
“I’m not interested in him.”
I nod, the muscle in my cheek jumping wildly. I’m going to have to make his new seat assignment permanent because there’s no way I’m going to watch him hit on her in front of me for a fucking year.
“Stay away from him, Nera.”
“Or what?”
I stare at her, silent. I’m afraid of what I’ll say if I open my mouth. I don’t think she needs menacing words to understand the threat in my statement.
She must see something in my icy gaze because she swallows thickly, looking away and down to cover her reaction.
“You seem to only want me when someone else does, Tristan,” she says, meeting my gaze unflinchingly. “You’ve unleashed a bit of a monster I’m afraid, and now that I know what it feels like when a man makes me come, I’m desperate to feel it again.” She leans in over the desk so she says the next part up close and personal, making sure I don’t miss a word. “I’m not going to wait for you forever.”
She pulls back and I hold on to the table, white knuckling my grip so I don’t reach out and grab her. She’s at the door when I speak.
