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I laughed at her displeased tone. “If either of us were at risk of being gobbled up, it’s you. How do you not stop traffic with that ass?”
Her eyes glowed down at me. “You like my ass?”
“On a scale from meh to holy fuck, I would definitely give it a damn, girl!” I told her with a wink.
“I knew I liked you,” she murmured. “It’s decided. I’m keeping you.”
“Aww,” I cooed. “Wanna be my new bestie?”
“I’m sad I’m not already,” she pouted, making me laugh again.
We fell into a comfortable silence when we started our run. She kept pace with me, and even when I sensed she wanted to sprint off, she stayed at my side. By the time we got back to my dorm, we were both bathed in sweat.
“Coffee,” I moaned, pushing my flyaways back from my sticky face.
“It’s a triple shot kind of day,” she agreed as we walked toward the coffee shop.
Students, professors, and a few locals were already in line. Aggie’s, the diner across town, was where the majority of Creswell Springs’s residents got their morning fix, but the coffee shop had a pastry menu Aggie’s didn’t.
As we stood in line, I glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Professor Vaughn. When I saw the ratty blond locks of Professor Lynch, I shifted behind Sammy so I didn’t have to look at the woman’s smug face.
“Who am I hating?” Sammy whispered beside me, glancing around.
I pressed my lips into a line, trying not to laugh. Sammy reminded me so much of Hayat it hurt. “No one,” I denied, but my friend raised a brow. “I don’t have a legitimate reason to hate her.”
“We need legit reasons to hate people?” she gasped. “Oh shit. I should probably stop murdering random chicks who look at Elias.”
Snickering, I nodded toward where the computer science professor was adding sweetener to her to-go cup. “I think she and Professor V are a thing.”
“Oh, the one you need to check off the bucket list.” I shrugged, and she gave the other woman a long appraisal. Sammy’s nose scrunched after a moment. “Nope. She’s not fucking anyone.”
“And you know this, how?” I asked with a laugh.
Sammy shrugged, her gaze still on the blonde. “She’s too frustrated for someone who is getting it on the regular. Look at the tension in her shoulders. The way she stirs her coffee a little too aggressively. No, she’s definitely not getting plowed by Professor Hotpants or anyone else.”
I watched Lynch, looking for the signs my friend had pointed out. She did look tense. And the way she was stirring her coffee with the thin wooden stick with a little force, like the poor coffee had personally insulted her, made me question why she would be so aggressive. If I got to ride Professor Vaughn, I would not be angry about anything.
“Huh,” I muttered. “You think?”
Sammy slung her arm over my shoulders. “Babe, I know. She might wish she were getting railed, but she’s definitely not.”
CHAPTER FIVE
vaughn
My mind was in chaos as I moved with the shadows through the dorm, avoiding the few cameras the weak security used to supposedly keep the students safe, while keeping the ones I’d personally placed in sight. I’d been able to watch over Abi with them for months now, which had been the only thing helping me hold on to what was left of my sanity whenever I had to leave town overnight to take care of things in New York.
Knowing my wildfire was resting peacefully, I quietly let myself into her room. Unless I had to deal with something regarding my father, I was able to hold her for a few hours each night. Thankfully, I hadn’t had to make any overnight trips since he’d had a dementia episode that had landed him in the hospital.
That was almost a month ago, and he was doing better. Samara had been back in Creswell Springs for nearly two weeks, and our father was coherent again. For the most part.
His dementia wasn’t progressing as rapidly as the doctors thought. Until a few months ago, it had been me stirring the pot. Messing with his mind. Trying to rewire his brain to forget the son he’d raised, and replace his memories with ones that would cause him the most pain.
If he hurt, then so would Anya.
But when my emotions were finally unlocked, I couldn’t bring myself to continue the same game with him that I’d played before. His recent mental break had sent him into a rage that had nearly started a war between the most powerful mafia family in the country—the Vituccis—and one of the smaller syndicates in New York City. It had ended with Cristiano Vitucci in the hospital and my sister rushing back to New York.
All of it had been caused by one of Daria and Polina’s minions slipping him a hallucinogen that made him think Samara was still a little girl and had been taken by one of our family’s enemies.
