What…?
My pace quickened. So did theirs.
I cut sharply between two rows of parked cars. They turned with me.
The prickling at the back of my neck went from uneasy to full-on panic. I broke into a run, glancing over my shoulder, just in time for my foot to catch on a rock.
The ground slammed into me.
“Shit—”
The car screeched to a halt.
Footsteps. Heavy. Fast.
No, no, no—this was it. This was how I disappeared. Snatched off the street. Another story no one cared enough to finish.
Hands grabbed me. I fought like hell.
“Get the fuck off!” I snarled, shoving and twisting.
“Ryan!”
That voice. Even drunk, I knew it.
Silky. Steady.
“Professor.” My grin was instant, messy.
He cursed under his breath, scanning me like I was something he’d just scraped off his shoe.
“What a mess. Are you drunk?”
I shook my head too fast. “No, sir.”
His stare was flat. “I don’t believe you.”
He hauled me upright and started pulling me toward his car.
“Whoa, did you follow me?” My words slurred into each other, the giddiness buzzing low in my gut.
“You texted me,” he said, voice frayed at the edges.
I blinked at him, noticing the redness in his eyes, the faint shadow under them. The smell hit me next. Alcohol.
“You’re drunk,” I blurted, sobering up in an instant. “You drove here?”
His jaw flexed. “I’m fine.” He tightened his grip. “You texted me, what the hell did you expect?”
“I texted Devon. Not you.”
His jaw worked harder, the muscle jumping before he dropped my wrist like he didn’t want to touch me any longer than necessary.
“I don’t see anyone else here, and you’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Get in the car before somebody sees me and starts connecting dots I can’t undo.”
Up close, I could see the exhaustion clinging to him. Still hot. But worn down.
The faint scruff across his jaw suited him, though I caught the clean bite of soap under the haze of alcohol.
