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He chuckles. “There’s been a change in you recently.”
If he only knew…“Just say what you mean, instead of talking in code.”
“Feisty. I like it.”
Another blast of lust sears through me. I’m almost preening from one simple compliment.
His gaze moves away from me to the wall above my head. His shoulders stiffen. He rubs the stubble on his jaw, deep in thought. Impatient, I shift in my seat waiting for him.
In the end, his eyes return to me. In a monotone, he says, “My goal is to restore my family’s name and power. It’s the only thing that matters, and to do that, I must be the strongest, the quickest, and the smartest made man there is. I must marry a clan princess from an influential family, and I must graduate from this fucking pretentious school by June.”
My shoulders slump. I had expected something honest and real to come out of his mouth. Instead, he’s backed off and reverted to the party line. The one he’s bought lock, stock, and barrel.
Listening to him makes me want to pull my hair out in frustration. Rather than taking a risk or challenging himself to be better—like I’m trying to do—he retreats behind a brick wall. Like a coward.
I want to throw that in his face, but he’ll only get defensive and attack me. Instead, I yield, “Okay, do what you need to do.”
I may not be able to change his mind, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to help him take shortcuts either.
“But I will only help you do it right. I will do everything in my power to help you graduate, but I won’t help you cheat. You either do it my way, or you find some other lackey—I mean person—to help you.”
He gives me a baleful look. “Lackey, huh? Nice try, but Cristo chose you for the job.”
I throw up my hands. “There are others—”
“He’s a busy man with many responsibilities. He chose you, and in his mind, that’s enough. There’s no one else. Get it out of your head, already,” he replies with an irritated huff.
There’s more to this story, but either Lucian doesn’t know or he won’t share with me because it’s clan politics.
He leans forward again, back in my space. It’s even more unnerving when he captures my chin and concedes, “I’ll do it your way—for now. But don’t push it.”
With that, he releases my chin, hops off the table, and grabs his book.
A little dizzy from his fast retreat, I still feel the ghostly burn of his touch. Apparently, I had gotten a little too cozy with him sitting so close to me, touching me, and wrapping me in his woodsy, masculine scent.
Taking his seat, he pulls up the assignment on Google Classroom. “Haven’t done any reading yet, so let’s start from the beginning.”
I sit there, blinking at him as I catch up to the fact that he’s agreed to my terms. I didn’t expect it, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
He’s following my advice. He said I could matter to him. He even admitted to wanting me. That doesn’t mean we could ever be together, but I don’t even want that, do I? I stuff down the answer bubbling to the surface.
Mutual respect is enough.
Friendship is possible.
It should be possible, shouldn’t it?
It should be enough, no?
CHAPTER5
STAR
Iwait in line at the cafeteria lunch counter, going over our bizarre conversation in the music room last week.
I thought Lucian and I had moved to a place of mutual respect.
Until he ghosted me.
