I jolt upright. Spine straight. Eyes wide as I turn around and look at him.
Professor ConnerfreakingKilgore is posted up five feet away like he’s been there the whole damn time, wearing a bored expression. His eyes, an unsettling almost-clear green, drift lazily across the three of us as if we’re a particularly uninteresting painting he’s forced to critique.
He’s dressed in a light grey suit that hugs him in all the right ways, crisp button-up undone at the collar with no tie, just a hint of throat and chest, accompanied with a thick silver chain around his neck.
“Miss Rivera,” he says, dragging my name out like the slow pull of freshly made Laffy Taffy. “I trust you plan to attend class today. On time.”
I blink. “Yes. Of course. Right now.”
“Excellent,” he murmurs, letting his gaze drift over to Landon with a brief, glacial pause. “Are you planning to attend as well,Landon?”
I almost choke on my own tongue. My head whips toward Landon, whose smug-ass smile could power the entire west coast.
“Yeah,Con,” he says casually.
What in the sweet Mary barbecue hell is this? I knew Landon knew of Professor Kilgore. Knew they had some kind of mutual history. But I didn’t know they were on nickname basis—like “grab a drink and commit felonies together” close. Why am I the devil’s favorite fucking toy to play with?
Professor Kilgore grunts, the faintest twitch of disapproval passing through his expression. “Class begins in three minutes. I will lock the door, Miss Rivera.”
“Con, don’t threaten my girl,” Landon says, sliding his arm over my shoulder like it’s a casual afterthought and not a live grenade tossed onto my ribcage.
“Your girl?” Brooke snaps, her voice sharp and hot and very much not amused.
“Oh yeah,” Landon says easily, grin sharpening as he turns to her. “BeforeBuzzkillover there ruined the vibes, Peach was just about to tell us what I am to her.”
My cheeks go nuclear. My body hums like a live wire. One wrong move and I might combust right here on the quad, in fact that may be the better option out of the two.
“I was going to say?—”
Nothing. Everything.
That he’s a guy. The first guy I ever kissed willingly. The only guy I’ve let touch me and the only one who touches back like he knows how to make it mean something. My bodyguard, who I maybe definitely want to fuck.
But don’t worry, Brooke—before him, it was strictly pussy. And that’s still my preferred cuisine out of the two, well it is the only cuisine I have been comfortable with in my life.
“Do not stroke his ego any further,Miss Rivera,” Professor Kilgore sighs as he turns, already making his way toward the building.
“Landon, give them a moment.”
“Well, only because you asked so nicely,Con,” Landon sings, obnoxiously delighted, before pressing a kiss—a kiss—to my cheek and finally heading toward the door.
Just as Professor Kilgore calls over his shoulder: “Ninety seconds. Not a millisecond more.”
I turn to Brooke, who looks like she’s two seconds from combusting—bright pink in the face and glaring daggers. “I’m sorry, have I been chasing after you, and you’re not even gay?”
“No! I—” I rake a hand through my hair, trying not to panic. “Iamgay. Been gay since I was thirteen.”
She squints at me. “Then what’s with the wholemy girlthing?”
I hesitate. “I might be… experiencing a sexual awakening. Of sorts.”
Brooke snorts. “So you’retrying outbeing straight now?”
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s usually the other way around.” She laughs harder, shaking her head. “I just—I really thoughtyouwere playingme.”
“You?” I raise a brow. “You’re way too fine to be played with.”
