5
Kat
Iburrow into my coat and make my way across campus with my breath fogging the air. My legs won’t stop shaking, the thought of Jeff towering over me makes my heart sped up. He reeked of sleaziness and something else that puts me on edge. I’m just glad the weekend starts after my last class today and I won’t have to see him until class next week. My lips touch the brim of my coffee cup, taking a sip that slightly burns my mouth, but coffee is my life. The best kind is from my favorite coffee shop on campus, and I quickly grabbed one before class to survive the day.
As I swing open the door to English literature with Professor Roz, I’m beyond stoked. I love the escape a book can bring, the way it takes you to a place just for a little while. Books are life and this class will break it down step by step to dive into the unknown of how it all works. I’ve heard Professor Roz is a hard ass, but being in his class gives me something to take my mind off of my home life and a certain jock that walks around like he’s a god just because he’s the captain of the hockey team. I snort to myself as I start climbing the stairs to grab a seat in the back row, allowing me to see the whole room with my back to the wall. I open my bag and grab my notebook while taking a seat, then focus on my doodling as students start filling the class. Time passes as I get lost in the endless swirls I’m drawing, and the door slamming startles me as Professor Roz walks over to the board to start outlining our semester workload. I’m writing down my notes when the door slams again, echoing around the silent room. I look up from my notebook and quickly glance back down before he can see me. Why the heck did I dye my hair pink again? It’s like a beacon, and I can feel his stare burning into my skin, leaving his imprint as he did earlier when he touched me.
“Nice of you to join us, Mr. Wilder. Please take a seat and don’t be late again. I don’t care who you are around here,” Professor Roz says with annoyance in his voice, adjusting his glasses before turning back to the white board.
It would seem the professor is not a fan of hockey, and I focus on my doodling to hide my smile behind the curtain of my hair. I hear his stomping footsteps, almost as if he wants me to hear him. He keeps making his way up the steps, and my heart stalls when I see his bag dropping on the floor next to mine out of the corner of my eye. He just stands there, and I wonder why he hasn’t sat down yet until I can’t take it anymore. I glance up and see him already staring at me, his piercing green gaze holding me in place. Why is he everywhere I go?
“Princess, I’m starting to think maybe you're stalking me,” he says in a low, deep voice as he sits right next to me, his arm brushing mine.
He shifts until his long legs are spread out and he’s crouching down in his seat with his big body angled towards mine. I glance around to see half the girls in here giving me the death stare before batting their lashes at the jock taking up my personal space.
“As if. I was here first. Why are you even taking this class?” I ask him, watching him twirling his pencil between his strong fingers.
I had those fingers tracing my bottom lip, causing a sensation that left a burning trail behind. For some reason, I want to challenge him. To provoke this side of him he no doubt keeps locked up. I saw him this morning, hitting the puck as if it had done him harm. He’s good, I’ll give him that. I watched his biceps flex under his long sleeved shirt when he drew back his hockey stick to land a strike that sprayed up the ice around him. I remember my heart racing, my stomach fluttering, and I had to shake myself because I realized that feeling was lust. I know that feeling he was fighting, as his anger released with each movement of the stick coming down and hitting its target. I do the same with my skating.
“I’m touched, Kat.” He leans closer, his hot breath on my ear, and a shiver travels down my spine as my thighs clench with desire. “I don’t need to stalk you, you’re everywhere I look. As for why I’m here… I couldn’t stay away.” He stares at me, my eyes drawn to his lips that are spread into a small lopsided smirk. It should be a sin for a man to have lips like his, wide and so kissable. “I need this class to graduate.” He chuckles under his breath as my brows draw together, and I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him for being an ass.
He made me think he was here for me for a second there. He reaches across me for my cup of coffee and snags it before I have a chance to stop him. With slow ease, he places the lid against his mouth and takes a drink. I’m going to beat him over the head with his hockey gloves, because you do not take coffee from a woman.
“Granger!” I gasp out loud without meaning to and take my cup out of his hands before he can drink the whole thing.
I grumble under my breath and stare straight ahead at whatever the professor is lecturing about. I missed the whole thing and have no clue what’s going on, all because of him. He’s a distraction, and I can’t have that.
I can feel him staring at me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see his knuckles turning white on his desk cover. I can’t help but look up at his towering figure, and a gasp softly leaves my mouth. His eyes are burning hot, desire swirling in the depths as his chest expands with every breath.
“Say it again,” he growls deeply in his chest, and I really feel that as my panties soak within seconds, as if his voice is pulling me tight into his grasp. It’s like the feeling of not getting enough oxygen, terrifying and intoxicating.
“Say what?” I whisper, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I edge closer to him until his thigh is scorching mine and radiating heat I’d like to cuddle in for a long time.
It’s a staredown, one I can’t look away from, and I don’t know if I want to. That’s what scares me the most—he’s bringing this side of myself that I’d rather keep locked away. It’s scary as hell, feeling these emotions.
“My name, say it again. It’s fucking irresistible coming out of your mouth. Almost sounds like you want me, Princess,” he purrs, but the sharp line of his jaw is clenched tight, highlighting his high cheekbones and his dark eyebrows clash together with a scowl as his eyes slowly darken. His annoyance is directed at me, like it’s my fault I’m making him feel things he doesn’t want to.
I wonder why that is? Why is he so angry at the world and practically snarls at the female population when they fawn all over him? Heck, half the women here can’t stop staring at me, even though he’s not giving them any attention. Is this a hockey thing?
His eyes change to a darker color, a jaded green that pierces me in place. Fire burns in the depths of his expanding pupils, and I realize two things at that moment. One is how close we’ve moved towards each other, his face inches from my face, and the second is that I like the anger in his eyes.
Call me crazy, but it’s kind of hot. Like, I want to push his buttons, and it’s the frosting on top of the cake to know the anger is all his own. It’s not even about me really, I recognize the pure hatred in his eyes at not being able to have something you want.
“Granger,” I breathe, my chest expanding on a deep exhale so close to his, and I notice his scent flooding my senses for the first time. It’s a masculine smell of earth yet spicy like cinnamon, and my mouth starts watering.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, not looking away from me, even when his name is called three times in the front of the class.
Our bubble pops, allowing me to breathe as I glance quickly to the front of the class to see the professor leaning against his desk with his arms folded over his chest.
“Since you're very involved in this discussion, Mr. Wilder, why don’t you tell me about Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven” and what the story is about?” Professor Roz smirks, gladly catching us not paying attention and drawing all the gazes of our classmates to our cozy corner.
Granger’s face doesn’t change, he just stares at me with an intensity that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as he answers the question.
“A madness descending on a man who’s felt pain, mourning a lover, and never being able to love again. Loneliness will keep him company until it’s all he has left,” Granger says, his deep voice echoing around the silent room, and the spell breaks as he looks away from me to stare at his desk, as if he didn’t suck the oxygen from the room.
“Well, uh, that would be part of it. Miss Talin, please explain the theory on the Raven.” Professor Roz moves on, picking on his next victim, but I barely notice because I can’t look away from the man who draws me with his anger, passion, and the confusing way he stares at me.
Time passes fast, making me jump when the other students start packing up and filing out of the room. I think I may have been lost in thought the whole time and staring at Granger, so it led me to miss half of the class discussion. I’m still watching him with my head tilted to the side as he stands but doesn’t move to exit. He slowly glances over at me, towering over my seat as I look up at his imposing figure. Strong shoulders, a six-pack of contoured ridges I can slightly see with his shirt hugging him, a tapered waist leading down to thick, hard thighs. He really does make my heart race.
“You should really stay away from me, Princess. I’m not a knight in shining armor, and I’m not a person you need in your life,” he declares before turning away and walking down the steps as students move out of his way, until he disappears out the door with a trail of puck bunnies giggling after him.
What the hecky heck just happened? Stay away from him? I want nothing to do with him, and he really needs to stop calling me Princess. I’m nothing close to being a princess, except for being locked away in my tower, and there’s no escaping that.