“I know you were flirting with me,” I told him. “I was aware. I’m not stupid… I just—” I cleared my throat. “A part of me didn’t mind it.”
His pout shifted into a slow, dangerous grin. “Didn’t mind it?”
I sighed. “You want the truth?”
He played with my tie and nodded. His face came closer, and tried with all my might not to stare at those plush lips.
“I looked forward to it. Most days.”
That grin bloomed into something real, almost shy.
But then it faded. “If you ever let her touch you,” he murmurs, voice low enough to scrape my spine, “I’ll make sure she never walks into this office again.”
Jesus.
Chapter 14
RYAN
Sam:
Am I ever gonna see my worst half?
Helooo?
Stop ignoring me!
Me:
I’ll visit soon.
I toss my phone onto the couch and focus on the stale cereal sloshing in my bowl.The flakes have gone limp, blending into the cloudy milk, but I shovel another bite in anyway, chewing like it’s Nathan’s fault.
He’s finally divorced, this should be easy. He should be crawling into my lap by now. Instead, he’s more hellbent than ever on beingprofessional.
Professional. Cute word for ignoring me.
He signed the divorce papers last week, and the next day, poof. Vanished. The one time I lingered after class, some smug sophomore told me he’d already left… with Claire.
Claire.
That prissy little bitch is like a parasite in stilettos. I don’t even know how she’s managed it, but in one week she’s wedged herself into his schedule more than I have all semester. Always at his office hours. Always finding an excuse to “grab lunch.”
And she’s not subtle about it.
Nathan isn’t overly friendly with her, which I appreciate, but he’s patient. Too patient. And that’s dangerous. She’s playing isolation, the first move in any good hunt. She wants him to herself.
The other day, when I was stretched out in his bed (without his knowledge, obviously), I heard his phone ping while he was in the shower. Claire. Text after text.
If I could delete them without him noticing, I would. Sometimes, I do. But she’s still crawling her way in.
It’s pissing me off enough to take it out on him.
I drain the rest of the soggy milk, wipe my mouth, and get dressed. Six p.m., not my usual hour to go out, but perfect for catching teachers winding down over a drink.
Like my Nathan.
The bar’s warm with chatter and dim light. I spot them immediately.
