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“Fine, whatever. Do you think Caleb will let me go to the library on campus for a while then?”
Bastian chuckles. “Sorry to dash your dreams, Princess. Caleb can’t go with you tomorrow. He’s working on a project for me. I’m going to be the one to go with you.”
I feel a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Fuck. Bastian is going with me? Why?
I cross my arms, feeling defensive. “I don't know if I want you to go with me. I don’t know if I can trust you.”
Bastian reaches out to touch my shoulder, then pulls back, hand hovering uncertainly. “I'm not asking you to trust me blindly. Just … give me a chance.”
I sigh, squeezing my eyes shut. “Okay.”
15
SIENNA
“Climb on, Princess,” Bastian pats the motorcycle and I take a few deep breaths, wishing we were taking the car instead.
“I hate motorcycles,” I grumble as I buckle the helmet he hands me. “Why can’t we just take the car?”
“Faster this way,” Bastian says. “Now stop bitching. I thought you wanted to get to campus?”
I grit my teeth and wrap my arms around his waist, still salty about the fact that I couldn’t go with Caleb.
There might be an uneasy truce between us now, but that doesn’t mean things are fine. Whenever I’m around him, my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His gaze sends shivers down my spine and I feel like a mouse being stalked by a cat.
The bike's engine roars, drowning out my thoughts as we speed towards Watford. I keep my eyes closed the whole time and cling tightly to Bastian, not wanting to see it happen if we die.
Once we arrive, I get off, grateful that we arrived in one piece. Owen has an office near Dr. Thornton’s, and he’s usually oncampus at this time so I head straight there. Bastian follows me like a guard dog the entire way.
“Stay here,” I tell him as I walk to the stairs of the Psychology building. “I don’t need you breathing down my neck while I’m talking to my boss.”
“Yes ma’am,” Bastian says, giving me a mocking salute. “I’ll be a good boy.”
I glare at him, rolling my eyes. “Be back soon.”
Walking up the steps, I turn left to head down the first hallway to knock on Owen’s door, but there’s a sign on it that reads “Out sick, will be back tomorrow.”
Dang it. Now what?
Dr. Thornton’s office door is open and I wonder if I can give him my research. I haven’t spoken to him in person much, just the one time during the interview and another time in passing after a meeting with Owen.
Approaching his door, I softly knock.
“Come in,” he calls out.
“Hello,” I step inside and wave. Large bookcases line the wall, the spines of the books cracked from years of use. Stacks of papers are scattered across his desk, bathed in the flickering light of a dimly lit lamp that casts long shadows in the room.
“I’m Sienna Bennett. I’m one of the research assistants working on your Urban Resilience study. I wanted to turn in some of my work but my supervisor isn’t in. Can I give it to you?”
“Sienna, yes!” Dr. Thornton rises and reaches out to shake my hand. “I remember you. You made quite the impression with your interview. How are things going out in Caspian Springs?”
He’s tall, with dark blue eyes, neatly trimmed stubble, and carefully manicured eyebrows. His blond hair is slicked back and he’s got on a tweed, three-piece suit. He gives off the look of a typical professor.
“Good,” I tell him. “I’m making great progress with the residents. They’ve really opened up to me about their experiences.”
“Wonderful.” Dr. Thornton leans against his desk, giving me a wide smile. The corners of his deep, blue eyes crinkle as he smiles. “It’s quite a task to get all this done. You and Owen have been going out together?”
“Owen’s been busy,” I say, trying to be vague. I’m not petty enough to throw him under the bus, as frustrating as he’s been to deal with. “So I took over getting the initial screenings done.”
