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I could decide my future for myself.
But when I thought about what I wanted, one thing plagued my mind the most.
Hurt and reeling, I slowly got out of bed and pulled on a pair of socks and my boots. I shrugged into a jacket, trying to will my face to remain neutral when all I really wanted was to cry.
There was only one person I wanted to see, and I wasn’t sure he wanted to see me right now. But I had to try. I had to go after something for myself, and the only thing I wanted right now was Rhys.
I walked out of my apartment in a daze. Snow fell thickly as I bundled myself against the cold and walked toward faculty housing. I didn’t care that there might be someone awake and watching. I had no real thoughts in my mind until I reached the gate leading into his housing area and realized I had no idea which cottage he lived in.
Tucked in the trees was a cottage with a single light on.
If it wasn’t his place, I had no excuse to use to cover my tracks.
I sighed, my hand resting on the gate, and then I stepped away.
Chapter 18
Rhys
I STEPPED OUT OF THE bathroom and stopped in the snug hallway, standing as still as I could. I reached up and rubbed a towel over my wet hair and waited, sure I’d just heard a knock. Silence hugged the area, and outside the windows, snow fell in steady, thick flakes illuminated by my porch light.
I must have imagined it.
I turned back to the bathroom to hang up the towel, but out of the corner of my eye, I caught a shadow move across one of the windows as someone stepped off the porch.
It took me a whole three seconds to cross to the door and throw it open.
“Whitney?” I called out. She froze, her back to me, dressed in that long puffy coat and what looked like pajama pants and boots.
She took a breath, her shoulders slumping as she slowly turned around.
“Get in here,” I breathed, noticing the troubled look in her eyes even from several feet away.
She dropped her head, watching her feet as she shuffled through the snow and up the porch steps. I opened the door wide to let her pass, and then looked back and forth to make sure no one had seen her come in.
I closed the door behind us and flipped the lock before turning to face her.
She unzipped her coat and draped it over a dining chair, letting out her breath. She looked like hell, and I could tell she’d be crying.
“Is this because we—we kissed?” I asked, stumbling over the word. I hated the idea that she was wracked by so much guilt and regret that it would bring her to tears.
“No,” she breathed, glancing up at me for a split second before looking back down at the fuzzy pink socks she wore. “No, it’s not.”
I rolled my lower lip between my teeth as I watched her collect herself. She so easily manipulated her emotions, hiding how she really felt. I’d seen her do it now a dozen times. Her face changed, the withdrawn look in her eyes brightening into something casual and expressionless. “Stop,” I said before realizing I’d said it out loud.
She looked up at me, meeting my gaze. “What?”
“That,” I said with very little patience. I motioned at her. “That thing you do, like you’re putting on a mask to hide how you really feel.”
She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing as that blank expression shifted to one of irritation. “I do not do that.”
“You do, and I’m tired of seeing it.” I didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, or maybe I had. I didn’t know. All I knew for sure was that I’d spent the whole evening replaying that kiss over in my head on a vicious loop, trying to figure out where it went wrong. “I know so much about you, Whitney. From other students, from the faculty. I was told you were this...force. This powerful, dominating woman who had the entire university in a chokehold since your freshman year. But since I’ve known you, you’ve been...”
“I’ve been what?” she snapped, her mouth pulled back in a snarl. “What have I been, Rhys?”
“Short,” I said, laying my hands on the dining table between us and pressing my weight into them. “Temperamental. Capricious—”
“Capricious?” She glared, but her eyes shone with tears.
