Or maybe eaten a mouthful of shit, not sure which.
He flushes red, starting at his neck and spreading up to his cheeks.
I tap my foot. “What, you don’t like an audience?”
He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out and it pisses me off even more that the simple presence of another man is what puts a damper on his boldness. It’s taking everything in me not to knee him in the balls.
Jack must see it written all over my face. “I came to tell you she fell asleep.” He’s gathered his composure, and ignores that there is anyone else present, but the tone of his voice is not one I’ve heard from him before this moment. “Adrian, could you please grab Miss Ivor’s bag from Professor Scott’s classroom.” He doesn’t take his eyes off me—as if I am the one tethering him on this side of not making any stupid, job-threatening decisions—but it’s obvious who he’s talking to.
We stand outside the classroom, and Adrian fumbles with the knob before quickly sliding inside. The cinnamon toast cunt reappears a moment later, breathing shakily as he hands me my bag. I can see the tension in his body as he avoids eye contact with either of us and attempts to rush away without a word.
He makes it less than two steps. “Mind if we chat before you go?” Jack asks so casually that his apparent mood shift gives me whiplash.
“I have class?—”
Jack cuts him off, completely ignoring him. “Quinn, could you please put the baby in the car while Adrian and I have a word alone?” He hands me his keys before shifting Sienna’s sleeping form into my arms.
I open my mouth to retort, to tell him that I don’t need him and I can take up for myselfbecause I can. But the words don’t make it out before he wraps his arm around Adrian’s shoulders and turns away from me, steering him into the empty classroom.
The heavy door clicks shut and I realize I’m dismissed from the situation. I am equal parts annoyed with the amount of testosterone I was just forced to bask in, and glad that for once I don’t have to deal with such a fucking jerk myself.
It’s exhausting.
By the time I have Sienna snug in her seat, Jack is already approaching.
“That was… fast.” I gently close the car door and thankfully when it snaps shut, Sienna doesn’t rouse. “You know I can?—”
“Yes, I know,” he cuts me off and holds out his hand. I realize he’s asking for his keys a beat later and I drop them into his waiting palm. “But you shouldn’t have to. Do you need a ride to your dorm?”
Terseness is not something I am used to from him, and I don’t like it very much so I am terse back. “I can walk.”
I expect him to push, but he responds with a curt nod and I can’t help but feel like he’s leaving something unspoken.
There is a bit of tension between us now because of the super uncomfortable situation we were just in, but I know it will dissipate. “Thanks.”
I turn away from him and head toward the dorms.
I hope he knows I don’t just mean for the offer of a ride.
12
FUCKING SPIDER GUTS
QUINN
It’sa torrential downpour outside the night before Halloween. A deluge of rain hammers against the window panes of my dorm room, drowning out the muffled sounds from the hallway. I watch the torrents of water slide down the glass, distorting the streetlights into wavy orange blobs before pulling my focus back to the text in front of me.
Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I balance my book on one knee. The faint scent of cedarwood drifts through the room, courtesy of the flickering candle on my nightstand, the flame casting dancing shadows across the pages.
The sporadic sounds of laughter and the occasional shriek pierce through the stone walls, overpowering the steady drumming of rain. Despite the chaos of other students acting like they’ve never experienced a power outage before, I am determined to maintain my focus on studying for my exam.
As long as I don’t set off the fire alarm with my makeshift study setup, I should be able to avoid the wrath of the douchey dorm room authorities.
The textbook is for Jack’s class, so my evening has been filled with eyeballs full of gruesome crime scene photos and detailedreports of serial murder investigations. Not ideal for a night alone in a supposedly haunted dorm, but ‘tis life.
My life anyway.
I am tempted to send him a miserable-looking selfie of me studying for his class, but opt not to because I need to reserve my cell phone battery.
