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An hour later, Liam pulls up to the gilded gate that guards the main entrance at Phillips Exeter Academy.
Leaning over me to open the glove box, he pulls out a red pass.
So, he is a new security administrator here.
He rolls down his window, and a night guard steps out with an umbrella.
“Thank you for returning Miss Edwards to campus,” the guard says. “Are you driving her to her final destination at Hoyt Hall?”
“No.” His voice is terse. “I’m dropping her off right here.”
“Very well, sir.” The guard moves to my side of the car.
After helping me step out, he escorts me inside his booth. Then he hands me a familiar, pink demerit slip.
I look over the usual circled phrases—"delinquency," "failure to adhere to academy policy," and "violation of student behaviorcode"—noticing that there is one I have never been charged with before.
Committing an expellable offense
My senior year is beyond over…
3
LIAM
Later that night
(Well, morning)
Irefuseto acknowledge that the past several hours ever happened. There's no way I spent an entire night with a minor, so I’m determined to stare at the cracks in my ceiling until someone tells me this is all part of an extensive prank.
“Sir, do you need medical attention?” A bearded man stands above me with a clipboard. “Sir?”
“I’m fine. Why do you keep asking me that question?”
“Because you’re lying on the floor and talking to yourself,” he says. You’ve been down there for hours.”
“Oh, right.” I force myself to get up. “I appreciate your concern.”
“You’re welcome.”
I walk into the room that will eventually become my library and open the top desk drawer. Taking out my favorite bourbon, I uncork the bottle and sip straight from its neck.
Today is “move-in” day for the professors’ quarters on campus, and I’m supposed to be attending a meet-and-greet that will “help prepare [me] for dealing with the prestigious and amazing minds of this esteemed academy.”
I’m not in the mood to meet anyone else right now.
I’m stuck on last night, regretting every word I said and wishing I could blame it on the alcohol, but I was sober as a judge.
The moment “Rebecca” turned around to face me in that bathroom, I forced myself to blink a few times, to make sure she was real.
A hazel-eyed vixen, her light lavender dress clung to her curves in all the right places, exposing the swell of her breasts. Her wavy black hair was pulled into a low ponytail that fell across her shoulders, tempting me to slide my fingers through it.
Her puffy pink lips dropped open in a perfect “Oh,” as she eyed me, and I felt instantly drawn to her in a way I’d never felt before.
I’d assumed that she was a student, but I was leaning toward the graduate level.
